Chapter 18 - Chapter 17: Sanctuary

Once more it was almost dark when Jon arrived at Castle Black without alerting the Night's Watch to his mode of transportation. To his surprise the south gate opened before he had the chance to knock. Jon looked hesitant but relaxed when he saw it was Jaremy Rykker, the Master at Arms who let him in. Jon greeted the other guards with a nod and walked beside Rykker to the building where his great-great-uncle had his quarters.

"Thank you Ser Jaremy. I understand you got the message from Ser Gerold Hightower?"

"Yes my Prince. Can I say it is an honour to be singled out to guard you? You cannot possibly understand what it means to us Targaryen supporters to find out that a true son of our beloved Prince Rhaegar is alive and well and that the three missing Kingsguard survived. I hope one day I will witness you riding your dragon with my very own eyes. And please, just call me Rykker. At the Wall we relinquish our titles when we say our vows."

"It is me who should thank you for your devotion to my family. I am sorry that you have been living in exile all these years because of it. Can you tell me who at Castle Black knows of my true identity?"

"Well the Lord Commander, Maester Aemon of course and I have taken the liberty to tell my friend Gylles Stokeworth. He was sent to the Wall the same day as me. We fought side by side at the Trident. We both have sworn in the presence of Maester Aemon that we will do anything we can to keep you safe while you are with us at the Wall. The Lord Commander has begrudgingly agreed to release us from our normal duties for the entire duration of your stay. After hearing the reports from the scouting party, he would be a fool not to realise that you are a powerful ally and it is not in the interest of the Night's Watch to let something happen to you here."

"It is still not clear to me what the other brothers of the Night's Watch know about all of this exactly. You say only four people are aware of my true identity, but surely the scouting party must have informed them they received help from a person on a dragon?"

"I am told both your great-great-uncle and your Stark uncle will fill you in, my Prince. I think you will find them both in here." Rykker opened the door and made room for Jon to enter the chamber where he had spent such a lot of time years before. "I'll be right outside if you need anything." Rykker closed the door a soon as Jon had stepped inside.

Jon's eyes were still adjusting to the faintly lit room when he got pulled into a tight embrace by his Uncle Benjen. "I'm so glad to see you are safe and sound, Uncle." Jon told him whilst hugging him back.

"No more than I am to be safe and still very much alive." His uncle laughed. "Come and sit with us by the fire."

Jon went to the armchair where is elderly uncle was resting with his eyes closed. Aemon Targaryen had lost even more weight and looked to be on death's door. "Is he awake?" Jon asked.

"I'm sure he won't mind that you wake him up if he isn't." His Stark uncle replied. "He asks after your whereabouts every time I dare to show my face in here. Apparently he still has something of great importance to relay to you. Go easy on him, Jon and don't tire him out too much. I do not think he will live for much longer." Benjen Stark's look of concern was for his nephew though. He had witnessed all too often how the young man relished each letter from his great-great-uncle and lived by the man's guidelines. Benjen had once overheard Jon talk to Sam about the duty and responsibilities of a dragonrider of House Targaryen and how he needed to abide by a strict moral code without going into the particulars.

Jon dropped to his knees before his uncle's chair.

"Uncle Aemon?" Jon carefully touched his shoulder. Uncle Aemon?"

The old man stirred and opened one blind eye. Taking that as a sign of his uncle being conscious enough to understand him, Jon spoke gently to him once more. "It is me Aegon. I am back, Uncle. Shall we let you sleep and return tomorrow morning or do you prefer to talk to me now?"

Jon saw his great-great-uncle make an effort to become fully awake. The wrinkled skin around his mouth became even more pronounced when the old man tried to speak. "Egg? Is that you? Can you bring me some water please?" His voice sounded hoarse.

"Uncle Benjen?" Jon asked. "Would you be willing to leave us alone please? I know Uncle Aemon will greatly appreciate that. If you let me know where your quarters are then I will come to you after we are done talking here. Could you also enquire where I may sleep tonight please?"

"Of course, Jon. I have a room in the west tower. Rykker will escort you there. I happen to know they have granted you the room next to mine. Take all the time you need here but do not forget that I really would like to see you before you retire." Uncle Benjen had reached the door by the time he stopped talking. Jon nodded and exchanged a warm look with his uncle who smiled encouragingly before closing the door behind him. Jon filled a cup with water using the jug that stood on a table near the window and handed it to his great-great-uncle.

The old man took a few small sips and smacked his lips. "I am glad you are here, Aegon." His voice still cracked and he paused to take another sip. He cleared his throat and tried again. "When you did not come back with the scouting party and I heard you had returned to your ships, I despaired you would not visit me again in time. My days are numbered, my dearest Nephew. And I do not have the option to put the things I still have to tell you in writing." His voice got weaker at the end of this little speech and he started to cough.

"Here Uncle, take another sip and try to speak slowly. Are you sure you want to do this tonight? We have all the time in the world. I promise I won't leave Castle Black before you have told me all you need to tell me. I'll be here for several sennights." Noticing how his uncle's shaking hands had trouble bringing the cup to his lips without spilling anything, he helped him keep the cup upright and guided it to the elder man's lips. He was getting worried. Up close his uncle looked even more gaunt and very weak.

"Nor can I dictate them to someone who is not entitled to know." Maester Aemon continued as if there had been no interruption. "A Targaryen vows to disclose this knowledge only to the head of his house or to a kinsman who commands a dragon. You still lack crucial knowledge about the abilities of Targaryens and the procreation of dragons." His uncle closed his eyes for a moment. He was breathing heavily. Apparently simply talking was enough to exhaust him in his current state.

"Other abilities, Uncle?" Jon asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He momentarily forgot his intention of urging his uncle once more to postpone their talk until morning. "Why didn't you tell me of these before?

"During your first stay, you were still too young and a sennight ago you didn't have the time." Another bout of coughing racked Aemon Targaryen's body. When the coughing subsided, his uncle's shorts breaths were accompanied by a wheezing sound.

"Perhaps you should rest a bit first, Uncle? Would it help if I asked the steward to prepare a cup of herbal tea?" Jon was getting really worried that his uncle was overextending himself.

"Sit down Egg and listen, please. I will not rest until I have done my duty to our House."

Jon couldn't miss the desperate note in his uncle's voice. He wouldn't press the issue any further. However, he couldn't help but wonder why his Targaryen uncle had never summoned him to come to the Wall sooner if there were still such crucial things he should know about.

"Of course, Uncle Aemon. I am sitting really close to you. You do not have to speak up. I will hear everything you want to tell me." He gently cradled his uncle's wrinkled hand in his and decided to give his vow freely saving his uncle from having to ask it of him. "I, Aegon Targaryen solemnly vow that I will only disclose this information to my heir or to a Targaryen who controls a dragon."

His Uncle Aemon squeezed his hand in acknowledgement and started talking. Somehow the old man summoned the necessary strength to describe in detail how some Targaryens could use a certain substance to invoke greendreams. He warned his nephew that it was a hazardous and unpredictable enterprise that only adults in the prime of their life should attempt and even then solely when the future of their house was in peril.

When Jon had assured his uncle that he had committed the instructions to memory and would mentally recite them at regular intervals so as not to forget the slightest detail, his uncle revealed to him how Targaryens could help their dragons to procreate. Jon had to make another vow to adhere to a strict moral code and to bring new dragons into the world only when certain criteria were met. His Targaryen uncle explained that King Jaehaerys, First of his Name, had created several rules to prevent their House from abusing the power of dragons. Jon had to repeat the exact wording of the rules several times until his uncle was satisfied he would remember them. Then he made Jon swear to uphold them at all times. As soon as Jon had sworn to faithfully adhere to the edicts of King Jaehaerys I, his uncle slumped back in his chair. Jon offered him the cup once more and encouraged him to take a few sips.

"I am really tired now, Aegon." His uncle remarked as soon as Jon had put the cup down. "Can you call the steward to help put me to bed? I will see you in the morning. Do not worry, dear Nephew. I know that this night I will enjoy a good night's sleep for I am at peace. Now that I have had the opportunity to officially pass the responsibility of our House on to you, a big burden has left my shoulders. House Targaryen will become a great House once more under your leadership, Aegon Targaryen. You will make our ancestors proud. Good night, dear Nephew." His voice was no more than a faint whisper when he uttered this good night wish.

Jon reluctantly got up. For some reason he was hesitant to leave his uncle alone. His worried eyes were fixed on the emaciated body of his elderly relative. "Are you sure you want me to go, Uncle? Isn't there anything else I can help you with before you retire?"

"Don't worry about me, Egg. I will feel better after I have rested. Just send the steward in. He is familiar with my needs and will take excellent care of me."

"I'll adhere to your wishes, Uncle. Send someone to fetch me when you are able to receive my visit again tomorrow. I would very much like to tell you of my recent deeds and look forward to receiving more of your wise advice. Sleep well." Jon carefully applied a bit of pressure to his relative's hand to mimic a goodbye gesture. Impulsively he leaned toward his uncle to kiss his wrinkled cheek and left the room with a heavy heart.

He almost bumped into Jaremy Rykker who stood patiently at the other side of the door. Jon tried to force a small smile on his face. "Rykker, can you show me to Benjen Stark's quarters in the west tower please?"

"This way, my Prince." The Master at Arms immediately complied with his request and headed toward the exit.

Jon followed him in silence, his thoughts still with his elderly relative. Jon had never seen a man grow so old or frail before. He prayed Aemon Targaryen would still be alive come morning.

***

Rykker showed him the room where his Uncle Benjen was waiting for him. Before opening it he pointed out another door a bit further along the dark corridor. "That door leads to your quarters, my Prince.

"Thank you, Rykker. I really appreciate your vigilance. You may retire now. I will not leave the west tower before morning and Benjen Stark will accompany me to the common room then. You can meet us there and we can work out a schedule for the next few days."

"As you wish, my Prince." He bowed and left swiftly.

Jon knocked on the door of the room where Uncle Benjen waited for him. His uncle ushered him inside and immediately offered him a seat and some food. Noticing his nephew's despondent attitude he raised his eyebrow. "Is something the matter, Jon?"

Jon sat down at the small table releasing a big sigh. "I am just worried about Uncle Aemon."

"Was he able to tell you everything he needed?" Benjen poured a cup of ale and placed it next to Jon's plate.

"Yes he was. At least his mind is at ease now." Jon lifted the cup to his lips. An image of the cracked lips of Uncle Aemon flickered through his mind.

Benjen pushed the untouched plate of food a bit closer to his nephew. "Come on, eat something. You will have a busy day tomorrow and will need all of your energy. Try not to worry about Maester Aemon. He has already lived much longer than most men. I know for a fact that your existence gave his life a new purpose and he has been far happier these last few years knowing another male Targaryen exists in the world. All men must die once, Jon. I know it is not a very comforting thing to hear right now but there is nothing we mere mortals can do about it."

"Valar Morghulis," Jon confirmed. "That is the customary greeting in Essos. It translates as 'all men must die'." He contemplated the food in front of him. "Still I will miss his guidance and his company when he leaves this world." Jon picked up his fork and made an effort to eat some of the food.

His Stark uncle watched him slowly work through his plate and waited patiently until Jon finally pushed it away. Then he raised his cup and encouraged Jon to do the same. Together they toasted to the health of Maester Aemon Targaryen.

"You on the other hand look better, Uncle. As far as I can tell you have fully recovered from your ordeal. Can you tell me what behaviour I might expect from the Lord Commander and the other men of the Night's Watch? Since you outed me as a Targaryen and Southern King to the Free Folk, I am anxious to know what you or Edd Tollet have revealed to the men here at the Wall?" Jon's tone was slightly admonishing.

"Well Jon, can you blame a man for mistakenly thinking upon seeing you ride a dragon, that the secret is out?" His uncle pouted his lips, cocked his head to the left and blinked his eyes a few times mimicking some whore who had once tried to seduce him with this gesture.

Jon jaw shifted slightly as he watched the droll expression. Then he remembered his uncle's answer hadn't provided him with the requested information. "That still doesn't tell me what I want to know. Am I Jon Celtigar an obscure Lord of the Driftmark with some accidental Valyrian blood or am I Aegon Targaryen, trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and rightful heir to the Iron throne."

"Aren't you both?" His uncle raised his cup and drank once more. It seems his uncle's relief to be alive had momentarily transformed the sensible man into a poor jester.

Jon did not return his uncle's toast. He ignored his own cup and focused on their discussion.

"Please Uncle, stop teasing. You know what I mean. Here at the Wall, can I still be Jon Celtigar or is the secret out?" He saw his uncle lose his mocking expression. A frown now creased his forehead.

"We are trying to keep your origins under wraps for now but I am sure some suspect. They know you are the one who saved me with the assistance of dragons. However, I have heard no rumours of you possibly being a trueborn Targaryen yet and Edd Tollet has vowed to keep your identity under wraps. Unfortunately being a dragonrider means you are a possible threat to the Crown regardless of who sired you. There is the lucky circumstance that no ravens leave the Wall without the knowledge of the Lord Commander. Nevertheless, the presence of dragons at the Wall will get out eventually, Jon."

His uncle shook his head a few times and then looked Jon straight in the eyes. "I am not the only one to blame though. You started all of it by using your dragons for all to see at the Stony Shore. Surely you realise that no matter how many rumours Varys and the others counter, King Robert will catch on eventually?"

Jon ignored these last few sentences still focussing on the issue at hand. "And the Free Folk? What are the chances they will call me Southern King during the negotiations or drop the word Targaryen?"

"I told Tormund Giantsbane that the Crows know neither your real name nor that you have a claim to the Iron Throne. I implied that we trust the Free Folk more than the Night's Watch. I think that did the trick. At least I hope so. Besides that man will go to any length for you. It seems you made quite an impression on him."

When Jon stayed silent, Benjen stood up and raised his cup once more.

"To my dearest nephew who I thank from the bottom of my heart for his timely rescue and who I will always love as a son." He drank deeply until his cup was empty.

This time Jon drank as well. When his finished his cup, he got up and embraced his uncle.

"You are the closest thing I have to a father, Uncle." He held on to his uncle for some time finding comfort in the knowledge that at least this relative was safe and healthy. His uncle seemed to understand Jon's state of mind and left it to his nephew to decide when to end their hug. Finally Jon dropped his arms and took his seat again. He took the empty cup in his hand without realising what he was doing. His eyes stared into it with an absent look.

"Did you know that as a twelve year old, I was extremely disappointed when you revealed to me we were family but you were not my father? Those first few nights I lay awake half of the night wishing I heard it wrong or tried to convince myself that you still kept the secret to protect me but that the real truth was that you were my actual birth father and everyone who said otherwise was helping you keep the secret for some obscure reason or other." Jon felt tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked a few times and swallowed.

Benjen studied his dearest relative who was still fidgeting with the empty cup, probably using it as an excuse to keep his head down.

"Jon, look at me. You are blood of my blood. Father or uncle, does it really matter? There are fathers who hate their sons. A relationship is defined by the feelings of the two persons involved. I certainly love you as much as a father can love a son. Do I really have to paint the picture here or do you understand what I am trying to say? The Gods know I am a man of deeds and not words." He put both hands on his nephew's shoulders to emphasise his words but it were his eyes who really conveyed his feelings.

Both men shared a timid look, the emotions visible on their faces. Benjen dropped his hands and looked a bit uneasy after this uncharacteristic expression of his deepest feelings. Jon cleared his throat and blinked a few times more. "Perhaps we should call it a night? You said yourself we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

His uncle swallowed but readily agreed and accompanied him to the neighbouring room. After a curt nod and a brief hug, he left his nephew's room and closed the door behind him.

***

The next morning Jon avoided the large hall where the meals were served and broke his fast in solitude. Surprisingly enough his uncle was not to be found in his room. Well, Jon couldn't fault him for that. He had forgotten to mention yesterday evening that he had planned to walk to the common room in his company. For some reason Jon felt unsettled at the Wall. Perhaps he should have listened to Ser Gerold. He hadn't realised until now how accustomed he had become to the reassuring presence of armed guards and trustworthy advisers who had his back at all times.

When he entered the main building in search of his uncle, a total silence fell over the room. All heads turned in his direction. He tried to fight the uneasy feeling that rose in his stomach. The sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor startled the men as the Lord Commander rose and welcomed Jon Celtigar formally to Castle Black. This prompted Jon to approach the high table. He tried very hard to shut out the whispers that started up again behind his back.

"I am sorry, Commander Mormont, I do not wish to disturb but I was looking for Lord Benjen of House Stark." He paused hoping the man would come forward with the whereabouts of his uncle without delay. A knot formed in his stomach when he witnessed the man's face fall.

"I presume you haven't heard then." Jeor Mormont sighed and sat back down. "Maester Aemon passed away sometime during the night. I believe Benjen Stark can be found in the Maester's quarters. I am very sorry for your loss. I recently learned how close you two really were."

"I thank you." Jon stammered the few words. He had paled considerably. He turned around and left the room neither seeing nor hearing the stares and whispers that were escalating. His great-great-uncle had died. It had been rather obvious that Aemon Targaryen had fought desperately to stay alive long enough to transfer his knowledge to his kinsman and that once at peace his body would give in. But Jon had hoped to spend a few more days with him before that happened.

The cold air enveloped him when he stepped outside. Somehow it left him defenseless when a sudden wave of loneliness hit him. Jon stumbled and sought support against the nearest wall. He tried to clear his mind and concentrated on his breathing. In out, in out. Slowly he felt the strength return to his shaky legs. He pushed off from the wall and forced himself to continue his search for Benjen Stark.

He found his uncle making himself useful in the Maester's quarters. Benjen Stark stood at the other side of Maester Aemon's bed and acknowledged Jon's presence with a solemn nod. Uncle Benjen informed him that the Night's Watch would burn his uncle's body that night. A reluctant glance at the lifeless body convinced Jon that he couldn't handle staying in these quarters today. He left the room muttering a short excuse to Uncle Benjen and returned to his quarters in the west tower.

In the midst of his grief, he didn't notice that Rykker had followed him ever since he had left the common room and had been watching over him from a distance the entire time. He only noticed the man when he turned around to shut the door of his bed chamber. Somehow Jon managed a nod in his direction before closing it entirely. He collapsed on his bed when an idea struck him. He adjusted his position, focused his mind and established a mental connection with his dragons. Together they took a moment to mourn the loss of a member of their small family. Sharing his grief with them made it more bearable.

When his mind had cleared somewhat, he realised he would have to inform Princess Daenerys that their uncle had passed away and that the two of them were the only Targaryens left in the world. It proved to be a rather difficult message to write. He knew all too well from her letters how much she had looked forward to meet yet another living Targaryen. She had been so glad to learn that instead of being the only one left, she had two male relatives living in Westeros. If the situation at the Wall was not so dire, Jon would be on his way to Pentos right now. It would make the news so much more bearable for her if he could just wrap his arms around her. Jon shook his head. Who was he kidding? He would obtain some welcome relief as well to have the physical reassurance that they still had each other. It took all his mental strength not to jump on Rhaegal and fly south east.

After several attempts, he completed a decent enough message and sealed it quickly so he could maintain his resolve to keep Ser Barristan's journey to her a secret. He really wanted it to be a welcome surprise and could almost visualise her joy when the famous knight would suddenly appear on her doorstep ready to take her home to Dragonstone. Her last message had elaborated on her eagerness and impatience to live together on Dragonstone. It had been hard then as well not to spoil the surprise and reveal that she was spending her last sennights in Pentos when he wrote his answer.

He decided to distract his thoughts by going on a short scouting mission. The day before, they had sent word of his arrival to the Free Folk. He knew the first official meeting between Free Folk, the Night's watch and his entourage was planned to take place approximately two and a half sennights from now. Jon had planned to take the time in between to gather information about the enemy's strength, position and movements. If some of the Free Folk would spot him riding his dragon it would only make Giantsbane's tale of his rescue more believable.

When Jon felt calm enough to leave his room, he was relieved to see Jaremy Rykker was guarding his door. When he told him he wanted to check up on his dragons the man immediately asked permission for his friend to come along. Soon after, Jon was introduced to Gylles Stokeworth. His new guard cut an imposing figure in his black attire. He was easily as tall as Sandor Clegane. His long grey beard made him look older than Jon supposed he actually was. It became clear from the first word he uttered that the man was extremely happy with the news of a possible restoration of House Targaryen. He vowed on the spot to obey his Prince's every command proudly declaring that the words of House Stokeworth were 'Proud to be Faithful'."

Jon took it all in stride. Slowly but surely he had come to terms with the devotion and subservience of men more than twice his age. He tried not to let it go to his head, fully aware it was also a great responsibility. Every decision he made could impact all these loyal men's lives. He expressed his thanks to Gylles Stokeworth and gently reminded the overwhelmed man not to refer to him as a Prince in public.

The three of them left Castle Black through the south gate and walked towards the woods.

When Gylles Stokeworth cleared his throat, Jon slowed his steps to draw level with the man. It was strange to see the imposing man look so hesitant to address a mere seventeen year old. "Is something the matter, Stokeworth? Please feel free to speak up."

"It is rumoured you are in possession of Blackfyre. Is that true?" At Jon's nod he continued. "Would it be too much to ask you to show it to us?" They had stopped walking at this point.

Jon smiled remembering how awestruck he had been when he first learned this legendary sword was not lost and was rightfully his to claim. He slowly removed the Valyrian steel sword from its scabbard and showed it to both men turning it slowly so they could admire it from all angles. A few moments later he carefully sheathed Blackfyre again and they resumed their walk.

Jon stopped after approximately two miles. "It is best you stay here. I will walk a bit further and call for my dragons. Do not approach them. You are free to return to Castle Black after you have seen me fly off. I will be back in time for supper and the burning ceremony."

Jon smiled when he saw both men's reverential reaction to the dragons. He realised that fervent Targaryen loyalists would welcome that sight more readily than anyone else. He waved at them when he flew over their heads, northward bound.

Up in the air it hit him that he did not have the time to venture far enough north to spot the enemy today. He decided to change direction and flew toward the west coast. He would find a quiet spot to spend some time with his dragons. He ordered Rhaegal and Viserion to thaw a space near some large trees which offered a beautiful view over the Bay of Ice and asked them to land there. Jon took up his favourite position against Rhaegal's flank and spent a peaceful afternoon with his dragons. They connected their minds and Jon showed them his best memories of Aemon Targaryen. Then he shared with them that he looked forward to introduce them to another member of their family soon. When he started the journey back to Caste Black, he felt somewhat revived and hoped he would be able to attend the burial ceremony with dignity.

***

"I have been looking all over for you." Benjen Stark took him aside the moment he saw his nephew enter the courtyard through the south gate. "Next time, please inform me of your plans. You are no doubt aware that Ser Gerold handed me the responsibility to keep a guard on you at all times. I was worried sick until Rykker told me you had taken the dragons on a scouting mission and would be back in time for supper."

"I am sorry, Uncle. I was upset by the news of Uncle Aemon's demise and needed to connect with Rhaegal and Viserion." Jon kept his voice down, well aware of the spectacle they made. Several members of the Night's Watch had stopped what they were doing to watch both of them interact.

"Let's go inside." His uncle had also spotted the interest they were gathering. "Supper and the burning ceremony will be interesting enough. No need to start the show early."

"What show?" Jon asked taken aback.

"Jeor Mormont wants to make an announcement at supper. It has been brought to his attention that the men are gossiping behind your back and that the stories are growing more absurd the longer they remain unaddressed. He will officially announce your purpose here and give them the itinerary of the next few days." His uncle looked ill at ease. "Come on, let's get moving."

"Before talking this through with me so we could perhaps influence his wording a bit? This is a delicate situation. I thought things would be easier now that he knows who I really am." Jon followed his uncle a look of dismay on his face.

"Jon, at this point in time you are nothing but a pretender. You have no political power yet. Besides, the Watch takes no part in politics."

"But they are in dire need of help from me and my dragons. I think I vastly prefer the attitude of the Free Folk." They entered the west tower.

"Do not forget the Free Folk witnessed first hand what your dragons are capable of. Jeor Mormont did not. He only has the testimony of Edd Tollet and myself. Also bear in mind that he is rather disappointed to put it mildly that you could not save Qhorin Halfhand." His uncle tried to appease his nephew.

"Do you even know what Mormont's itinerary for the next few days is? Are you comfortable with this situation, Uncle? Do you intend to talk me out of confronting him beforehand?" Jon had reached the door of his chamber and entered.

"I will not if you promise to keep your temper in check and ask politely." Benjen sighed. "And I insist on coming along. I presume you will want to change first and I will leave you to do so privately." he swiftly turned away but was too late to hide the expression on his face from his nephew.

"Uncle Benjen," Jon troubled by his uncle's demeanour stopped him from walking out the door. "Never ever hesitate to state your honest opinion to me. That is the only way this works. I am used to bouncing ideas off my advisers to develop strategies and they in turn are frank with me. Since you are the only one here I can really talk to, you will have to bear the brunt of my hair brained ideas. Do not take my outbursts personally. I will always respect your opinions and listen to your admonishments. Surely you are aware of the fact that your advice and opinions have a tremendous impact on me." Jon paused to give his uncle time to mull this over. Seeing him relax his stance he continued. "If you think on it, you are fulfilling Davos' duties and are temporarily Hand of the future King. And you know who they say wields the real power in Westeros." A mischievous light shone in Jon's eyes now.

"You will be the death of me one day, you know that don't you? Can you distinguish all these grey hairs that keep appearing? At least half of them are your doing. You do realise I am in a bit of a bind here? I am the official liaison between the Watch and the realm. Defending Jeor Mormont has become a natural reflex of sorts. But have no fear, my dear nephew, my allegiance to you trumps all that. I only ask that you will give me some time to adjust to this new dynamic." His Uncle Benjen left the doorway and stepped back into the room.

"So, do you actually have some advice on what to do about Mormont's imminent announcement?" Jon returned to the matter at hand, immediately taking advantage of their new level of understanding.

Benjen walked to the window and watched the goings on in the courtyard. "I suppose it would do no harm to casually ask him about it if we happened upon him. Normally around this time he makes a short appearance in the training yard. Shall we venture there after you have refreshed yourself?"

At Jon's questioning frown he added. "Your normally so beautiful curls are rather windblown, my dearest boy."

Jon laughed. "If that is the case, just give me a moment. A few drops of water can work wonders to tame my unruly curls.

***

Benjen Stark had been obliged to use his diplomatic skills and all the goodwill he had amassed over the years with Jeor Mormont to come to a compromise acceptable to both parties. Somehow Jon seemed to rub the man the wrong way. A very unusual thing since his nephew normally got on so well with everyone, nobles, servants, Free Folk. Jeor Mormont however seemed immune to the boy's charms and every word Jon uttered put the man immediately on the defensive. At one point during the discussion, Benjen had unobtrusively gestured Jon to keep quiet and let him do the talking. In the end Benjen had been able to slightly influence the Lord Commander's plans. The man had agreed to keep his speech a bit more neutral but more importantly he had agreed to delay it until after the funeral. He would address his men the next day immediately after everyone had broken their fast in the common room.

"What is his problem with me?" Jon complained when the Lord Commander had disappeared inside at a summons of his steward.

"Several things I assume. It all started when you were forced on him as a twelve year old kid. Then you saved the day when he could not. He is a proud man, Jon. It is not easy for such a man to come to terms with the fact that he is forced to accept the help of a seventeen year old boy. You are a Targaryen and the North remembers. He most probably also resents you for the attention you get and is scared that your presence will stir up trouble. There are Targaryen loyalists and Baratheon supporters here taunting each other and rows might break out at any time. Only a few men here are nobles exiled for political reasons. Many recruits are convicted murderers, rapist or thieves. You know that. It is not easy to keep them in line. Mormont's task is difficult enough on a normal day. Your presence makes Mormont's command even more challenging,"

"Would it help if we tell him about Ser Jorah's position as head of Princess Daenerys' protection detail?"

"For heavens' sake, do not bring that up. His son brought shame on his house and Jeor Mormont volunteered his services to the Night's Watch so he would no longer have to face his bannermen and prove at the same time to the Warden of the North that there are still honourable Mormonts."

"So there is nothing I can do to ease the situation?" This was unfamiliar territory for Jon and it was inconvenient to be at odds with the man who commanded the forces at the Wall. He hoped Ser Gerold did not learn too soon exactly how precarious Jon's relationship with Jeor Mormont really was.

"Nothing that I can think of right now. Just keep your distance for the time being and only talk to him when you're spoken to. Let me be your spokesman. Make sure you stay close to Rykker or Stokeworth at all times but especially during the announcement and the burning ceremony. Always carry your sword and both daggers as well. It never hurts to come prepared. We will make sure to seat ourselves close to an exit during the announcement."

Jon shook his head in disbelief. "All I want to do is save the lives of the Free Folk and the Night's Watch. It is hard to come to terms with the fact that I must protect myself from the very people I want to keep safe."

"You'll feel better once we have held our first official meeting with all parties." His uncle tried to comfort his nephew. "You will be scouting tomorrow for most of the day anyway and perhaps the next few days as well and will have few opportunities to encounter Jeor Mormont."

Jon avoided direct eye contact with the crowd when they entered the common room just before supper. Uncle Benjen walked beside him with Gylles Stokeworth and Jaremy Rykker following close behind. Supper was a tense affair. Jon kept a conversation going with the three men and ignored everyone else. Nobody came up to their table but the whispers and jibes he heard all around kept his nerves on edge.

The funeral pyre of his Targaryen uncle was another ordeal to get through. Jon stood as stiff as a frozen corpse, kept his head down and his face as blank a possible. He would mourn for his uncle later in private.

Jeor Mormont gave a brief eulogy and left quickly after.

"His name was Aemon Targaryen. He came to us from King's Landing. A Maester of the Citadel, chained and sworn, and sworn Brother of the Night's Watch. At the Wall, a dozen Lord Commanders came and went during his years of service, but he was always there to counsel them. And now his Watch is ended."

Jon was disappointed by the short service, only a few sentences to honour a man who lived to celebrate more than a hundred namedays and served at the Wall longer than anyone else ever had. His uncle had meant so much to him and he had only known him for five years. These men had seen him daily. Many had lived with him for half of their lives or more and still they didn't stay longer than a few moments to pay their respect. He abided by his Uncle Benjen's wishes and didn't draw attention to his heritage by giving a eulogy as well. Instead he recited a tribute to his uncle in his head.

Jon kept his vigil over the fire long after almost everyone had left. Uncle Benjen, Rykker and Stokeworth remained at his side. A few others did as well. Jon recognised Edd Tollet, and Pyp, the young steward he had met in his uncle's room a few times. A few unfamiliar faces Jon surmised to be former Targaryen bannermen stayed as well.

Only when the fire had died down completely did Jon move for the first time. He returned to his room without uttering a word. 'And now his Watch has ended,' was his final thought before he fell asleep.

***

The next morning, Jon braced himself when he saw Jeor Mormont rise up from his chair at the high table to address the men who had finished breaking their fast. If the Lord Commander had thought to clear the air with his announcement, he could not have been more wrong. The theory of leaving behind all political alliances was just that, a theory. You could not force the hearts of men to forget their former loyalties even if they swore before their Gods. Ninety per cent of the men were here against their will and had dedicated their lives to the Night's Watch because it was their only option to survive. Jon just had to look at the example of his own two loyal guards. Rykker and Stokeworth were sworn brothers of the Night's Watch for more than seventeen years already but were still at their very core loyal to House Targaryen.

After Mormont's well-intended announcement Jon had been bombarded with questions. Would he conquer Westeros with his dragons? Did he pose a threat to the reign of the Baratheon-Lannister dynasty? Did he intend to free all Targaryen loyalists that were exiled solely based on their politics and let them return home? Jon and Benjen Stark had tried to keep their comments neutral stating that these were all matters for much later. First they had to deal with the threat beyond the Wall.

Baratheon and Lannister supporters started yelling at exiled Targaryen loyalists. Neither Jeor Mormonts nor Benjen Starks attempts to silence the room had any effect. It was just a matter of time before the row escalated and people would start fighting.

Fearing for his nephew's safety Benjen Stark had removed Jon from the common room with the help of Rykker and Stokeworth. Other Targaryen loyalists had followed them out. Some of them stayed behind to block the exit. In the courtyard a protective circle formed around Jon.

"I do not know how to keep you safe, Jon." Benjen had been appalled by some of the threats he had overheard. One man had kept shouting 'kill the dragonspawn before he burns us all'.

"My dragons will keep me safe." Jon stated in a level voice. He still reeled from shock and hardly noticed the stares of the men surrounding him when they heard him talk about dragons as if they were this common every day thing. "Is Mance Rayder still at the same settlement that Tormund Giantsbane showed us on the map?" Jon asked. Seeing his uncle's nod he announced. "I will fly over there then. I'll take my chances with the Free Folk. At least they appreciate my help."

"But Jon, Ser Gerold won't like this. You will once more be without guards."

"Just explain the situation here, Uncle. Where do you believe I will be safer? Here where at least half of the men hate Targaryens even if they do not know whether I am one or not. Or amongst the Free Folk who kneel before me without being asked. Send me a message when things settle down here. Promise me you will stay safe after I leave you alone here. Don't go all out defending me once I am gone. Keep up the pretence of being a neutral inbetween-man."

Benjen Stark heard some commotion inside the main building and ushered Jon towards the south gate. "I believe it would be best if you called for your dragons now, Jon. Is there anything in your chambers you need to take with you?"

"I would like to take the few things I brought with me, Uncle. At a minimum I need the map, some writing material, the spyglass and the small mirror. Let Rykker and Stokeworth go and gather my things. I will stay just outside the gate and let Rhaegal and Viserion make some ruckus. That should discourage the troublemakers sufficiently. The dragons are already on their way. I took the time to send my feelings their way. They know I am being threatened and are coming to keep me safe."

Jon had hardly finished talking when two large shadows appeared over the courtyard. Rhaegal roared loudly and Viserion copied his brother's sound moments later.

In no time Jon was ushered out of the south gate by his small circle of supporters. The men who had fought their way out of the building to get to Jon stopped in their tracks and looked at the sky with fear in their eyes. Some dropped the weapons they had at the ready and fled back inside. Uncle Benjen shook his head. Jeor Mormont would need to take things in hand and quickly.

Once Jon had stepped outside of the gate, Rhaegal immediately landed next to him and lowered his shoulder. Viserion kept flying circles over the courtyard terrorising potential threats to his human. Finally Rykker passed through the gate with Benjen Stark at his side and showed them the small bag he carried containing the few items Jon had brought with him. Jon dismounted, quickly walked the distance the men had kept from the green dragon and accepted the bag. "Watch your back in there, Rykker. I appreciate all you have done for me. Now look after yourself." Jon patted him on the shoulder then he hugged his uncle whispering once more in his ear that he should take care of himself in there and walked back to Rhaegal.

"Let's get your brother and find the Free Folk." Jon mounted his dragon and allowed Rhaegal to make two intimidating circles over the courtyard just to make a point to everyone, before flying north to find the King beyond the Wall.

***

It had been easy to spot the settlement from high up. Mance Rayder had chosen to make camp in a clearing at two days march from the Wall. It made it easier for the representatives of the Free Folk to meet with the Night's Watch at short notice now that a tentative truce existed, but more importantly their looming presence kept the pressure on the Night's Watch so the Free Folk had a stronger negotiation position.

Jon landed in an open spot not too far from the settlement. Lots of children and some adults came running towards his landing space but kept a respectful distance from the dragons. The moment Jon dismounted and stepped away from Rhaegal, Tormund appeared from amongst the crowd and gave him a tight hug and some forceful pats on his back. Jon explained in two sentences why he had come now instead of waiting until the formal meeting would take place.

"Told you most crows are stupid fuckers." Tormund was glad to point out to his new best friend. "You are free to live with us as long as you want, Dragonrider. As I also told you before, you fit right in with us Free Folk. Wanna go hunting with me tomorrow morning? I'll bring an extra bow for you, one of my finest."

Jon was still reeling from the rather painful greeting and watched his dragons fly off to find something to hunt.

Not in the least deterred by his new best friend's silence, Tormund led him towards a tent in the center of the settlement. "Time to meet our King, Dragonrider."

"Please Tormund, just call me Jon."

"Mance, come here and meet Jon the Dragonrider and future King of the southerners." Tormund shouted loud enough for a big part of the settlement to overhear while he ushered Jon inside the tent.

"And I so wanted to keep a low profile." Jon muttered under his breath.

A tall man with long brown hair that had several grey streaks in it approached and greeted Jon with a nod. "So you are the skinchanger who rides a dragon and wants to become King in the South." Mance Rayder opened the dialogue in a harsh tone. He gestured to both men to take a seat.

After some hesitation, Jon decided to ignore the two women who were seated in the far corner of the tent with their heads down and sat down on a heap of furs. He would follow the man's lead. Not entirely familiar with the customs of the Free Folk, he preferred not to risk antagonising Mance Rayder by addressing the women without permission. At first glance, the King Beyond the Wall was an unremarkable average-looking man of undefinable age. His eyes however betrayed intelligence and a fierce protectiveness.

"It is nice to meet you, Mance Rayder. I have come here to help the Free Folk. Whatever I do or do not intend to do in the South is of no importance here. The only thing I ask in return for my service to you is for you to keep an open mind and not to antagonise the Crows unnecessarily. We must all do our best to work together to defeat the threat beyond the Wall."

"So the reason you show up sennights before the official meeting is not to negotiate with us now without the presence of Benjen Stark and the Lord Commander? You are not planning to blackmail the Free Folk into helping you conquer Westeros in private and play the innocent benefactor in public at the big meeting later?" Mance had gotten up and towered over Jon during his accusation.

It was Tormund who reacted first. "Mance, what the fuck!"

"It is quite all right. I would act the same way if I had that many people to protect." Jon had put his hand on Tormund's arm. His eyes however never left Rayder's face.

"My presence here has quite the opposite reason, I am afraid. I have come here to ask for your protection. Not all Crows are as fond of dragonriders as the Free Folk. I literally had to fly away from Castle Black to avoid being assaulted and I am seeking sanctuary." Jon tried his most disarming smile.

Mance Rayder stared at the young man, not quite believing what he had just been told.

"I knew those crows were stupid but not that they were dumber than a new-born baby," he finally exclaimed and sat back down.

"See Tormund, you and your King are on the same page. No need to threaten the man any longer." Jon tried to sound as relaxed as possible. He needed to show no weakness if he wanted to win over the King Beyond the Wall.

"Same page, what does that mean?" Tormund's eyes betrayed his confusion.

Jon saw the mirth in Rayder's eyes and acknowledged it with a slight smile of his own. Then he addressed Tormund. "Just a manner speech, my friend. It means you both share the same opinion."

Glad to see Mance Rayder had somewhat relaxed his stiff demeanour Jon spoke up. "Could I perhaps trouble you for a bit of food? I didn't have the inclination to eat something this morning."

His plea seemed to do the trick. Mance Rayder finally gestured the two women who had been present the entire time but had not moved an inch to come closer. "My wife Dalla and her sister Val. We will talk more later."

The women did not seem to mind the short introductions. "Follow us Dragonrider," Dalla smiled at him and left the tent not bothering to look back to check whether the young Dragonrider was following.

***

Jon spent a relaxing day touring the settlement with Tormund. He reacquainted himself with a few people and was introduced to many more. Tormund pointed out the various styles of tents and introduced him to several craftsmen who were proud to show their skills to the dragonrider. At Jon's request Tormund had just introduced him as Jon the Dragonrider, leaving out the bit about a possible bid for the southern throne.

That evening after Jon had shared a tasty meal around a big fire, he entertained the Free Folk with the story of Euron Greyjoy's defeat at the Stony Shore. He had to stop often to answer questions each time he used a term the Free Folk were unfamiliar with. The entire idea of a seafaring people was a new concept to the Free Folk. But mostly they wanted to hear over and over again how he controlled the dragons and he had to describe the uncommon colour of the eyes and fur of his direwolf several times.

At a certain point Tormund took pity on him and helped him out by starting the story of his rescue by the Dragonrider near the Fist of the First Men and the slaying of the White Walker. The Free Folk had heard him tell this one already more than once but were spellbound to hear the joint version of Jon and Tormund. Both men made it a game of constantly interrupting the other to add more details and mocking the other's actions. The result was hilarious and everyone retired to their tents with a large smile on their faces.

Before Jon retired to Tormund's tent, Mance Rayder issued an invitation to join him in his tent for a private meeting on the morrow. Jon agreed but only if he was allowed to delay the meeting until after a morning hunt with Tormund. He apologised but said he wanted to honour the prior agreement. Mance just laughed and answered that knowing Tormund he would not expect Jon before the sun had reached its peak.

During the short walk to Tormund's tent Jon politely declined several offers of young women who wanted to share his furs. Tormund had come to his rescue once more by shoeing the more obstinate ones away proclaiming loudly that the Dragonrider needed his rest this night.

"The next night," Tormund had laughed throwing his arm around Jon's shoulder, "all bets are off and you will need to fend for yourself."

Although Jon felt right at home with the Free Folk and he had enjoyed this day immensely he did not fall asleep immediately. He kept seeing the lonely funeral pyre of his great-great-uncle and wondered about the purpose of a man's life. He once more regretted that Daenerys would never get to meet the wise and kind man Aemon Targaryen had been. He checked in on his dragons but felt they at least were sound asleep. He wondered how Ghost was doing. He hoped to see his direwolf soon. If all went well the ship carrying Ghost, Davos, Ser Arthur and Sandor would arrive at the Bay of Ice in a sennight. He would ask his direwolf to join him at the Free Folk settlement and was sure the wolf would reach him before Davos and company would have travelled half the distance of their journey to Castle Black. Somehow the thought of showing his direwolf to the Free Folk made him relaxed enough to fall asleep.

***

Jon had spent an enjoyable morning with the big red haired man. However different their personalities, they interacted as if they had been best friends for several years instead of knowing each other for no more than a few days. Jon figured meeting each other under the threat of death had established an unconditional trust between the two of them at such a short acquaintance.

Tormund asked for Mance Rayder's permission to be present during 'the meeting of Kings'. Jon nodded slightly toward Mance Rayder when the man's eyes asked the silent question and the three men sat down ready to start their meeting.

Jon started by unfolding the map of the North whilst explaining he wanted to do some scouting before the official meeting with the Night's Watch so they could talk concrete strategies instead of doing not much more than quarrelling over vague theories.

"See these crosses? They mark the places that I saw the remaining wights when they fled after their defeat. I also marked a few locations where I spotted other groups of wights when I scouted a vast area over the next two days. The small arrows point at the direction they were moving in. Do you have any idea what that central point is where they are all moving towards?"

Mance Rayder studied the map at length. "I have no idea. But then I have never ventured that far north. I will put this before the representatives of the clans. Perhaps a few of them have ventured closer to that area at some point in time."

"Do you have a useful suggestion on where best to start scouting or do I just divide this territory in several squares and search them systematically?"

"Again, I am afraid I am not going to be a big help here. So do your thing. You are best placed to determine how wide an area you can adequately search in one session."

"If I may ask, what measures do you take to protect the woman and children during an attack?" Jon estimated women, children and elderly made up almost seventy per cent of the population at this settlement.

"You mean small children, pregnant women and sick people." Mance Rayder specified. "The rest of them all fight. I thought Tormund told you our spearwives are feared by many men here?"

"Even if I cross the spearwives and elder children from this list, you still need to answer my question. How do you protect those amongst your people that are too young, too pregnant, or otherwise unable to fight?" Jon's tone indicated he wanted a clear-cut answer.

"There is not much we can do except put them in the middle of our settlement and try not to let those dead creatures breach our perimeter. Do you have a better idea coming here so high and mighty with your dragons?" Mance Rayder sounded as if he had taken Jon's words as criticism of his ability to protecting his people. "We do not have those fancy stone walls to put our people behind that you have in the south."

"He's just here to help, Mance. It does no harm to listen to his ideas. You don't need to carry them out if you do not fucking want to." Tormund tried to keep the peace between the two.

"I have an advantage at my disposal, whether you like it or not. My dragons can give us an advantage. Aside from analysing the entire enemy's position from high up and setting things afire, they can for example melt vast quantities of ice. When I followed the ones who were fleeing from us, I noticed they circled around a small pond. One of them fell in and never resurfaced. That is a weakness we can use to protect your families. If you know of a large frozen pond, we can for example put your children, elderly and anyone who isn't fit to fight in the middle. My dragons can melt the borders of the lake and no wight will be able to reach them while we engage the enemy."

Mance looked thoughtful. "That could be helpful for a small attack on a single settlement. However we are intending to gather all the clans of the Free Folk in one place in order to have an army of more than a hundred thousand strong to make our stand. Your icy pond would not be large enough to safeguard all our weak. Or something worse could happen. The ice could crack under the combined weight and my people would all drown."

"There is another option." Jon started.

Tormund was getting excited and didn't let Jon finish. "Yes, lure the fuckers on the pond and then melt the ice so they are encircled by water. Once they are sitting ducks your fire beasts can burn them all."

Mance noticed Jon's expression and knew the young man had meant another possibility to protect his people. He told Tormund that his idea was an excellent strategy to attack but for now they were talking about protecting their children, pregnant women and elderly. He encouraged Jon to finish his previous sentence. His demeanour showing without needing to say it out loud that he had changed his mind and was not too proud to accept help that was so freely offered if it meant saving the lives of his people.

Jon hesitated not knowing how the Free Folk would react to being forced on floating death traps as they had called the ships of the Ironborn the previous night. He would need to choose his words carefully.

"I have at least twenty five ships that are on their way to the Bay of Ice and can provide temporary shelter. Fifty or so will soon reach the eastern shores near Eastwatch. They could shelter your most vulnerable members when the need arises. The ships can anchor just far enough from the shore to keep out of range of enemy arrows and spears. The Free Folk would only need to board them when the enemy is close by and if they are reluctant, perhaps they can be persuaded if you tell them they need only stay on them as long as it is dark outside."

Mance Rayder looked at Jon, astonishment and disbelief clearly visible on his face. "You would go to such trouble just to help us and want to make me to believe that you have no ulterior motive? I know enough of your southern ways to understand that such a large scale operation must cost you a fortune."

"I have more than one motive, Rayder. " Jon tried to stay patient and keep in mind that for centuries the Free Folk had had to defend themselves from the Night's Watch and the people south of the Wall and therefore considered every outsider with mistrust. "I do not like to see innocents being slaughtered. Certainly not when I have these two powerful weapons to prevent it from happening. I would not be able to sleep at night. But perhaps the motive that might convince you is the following: If I do nothing and let the White Walkers enlist all of you in their army, Westeros won't stand a chance once hundreds of thousands of wights break through the Wall. By protecting you, I am protecting Westeros." Jon took a deep breath and waited for a reaction.

When nothing was forthcoming he tried once more. "Isn't it better to combine our forces and lead them into a trap? If we are lucky we still have enough resources and superior numbers to fight them off. But if we squabble amongst ourselves and let them grow their army, slowly but surely the situation will reach a point where the remaining Free Folk will no longer stand a chance. We are all on the same side, Free Folk, Crows and Southerners because we have one thing in common. We are still breathing. This is a war of the living against the dead."

Tormund had tried to stay out of it for a while but reckoned it was time to intervene. He simply declared. "I am with Jon." Then he stood up and filled two cups of ale, handing one to Jon. "How about it Mance? Will you toast with us?"

Although Jon hadn't noticed Mance reacting in any way, Tormund acted as if the man had come around. The big red man started filling a third cup. He handed it to his King and then raised his own. "To the living!" He shouted and proceeded to clash the other raised cups not minding the liquid that spilled on the ground. "Bottoms up! All that talking has given me a dry throat."

"As if you did any talking." Mance answered Tormund with a dry sense of humour. He had visibly relaxed and now repeated the toast looking Jon in the eyes. "To the living." He drank until his cup was empty.

Jon did the same although the ale was not really that tasteful.

"I might have some good news for you." Jon declared, arousing the interest of Mance Rayder. "Are you still interested in obtaining dragonglass?"

"Dragonglass? Do you mean those volcanic daggers were made by dragons?" Tormund asked his voice sounding eager. "Can you ask them to make some more for us?"

"No Tormund, I am sorry to disappoint you. My dragons cannot create this glass. However we found a cave in Westeros with an indefinite supply. If all is well, my people are mining it as we speak. The only obstacle is the distance. As soon as I hear from my people, I will fly over there to bring some of it to the Wall. I have also arranged for a blacksmith to melt it into arrowheads and spearpoints. That way we can arm plenty of people with the first limited supply. If we can stall the main confrontation with the enemy long enough, a ship will arrive that will carry plenty more."

"Do you hear that, Mance? And you distrust the man for fuck's sake. He has put all of that shit in motion in just the few days that have passed since he rescued our sorry asses. Hell of a friend I made here, don't you fucking think so as well? It is high time you declared him a friend of the Free Folk and stopped mistrusting him at every damned turn. He is a Dragonrider who controls two dragons. He has in his possession a magic sword that makes those White Walkers explode in fucking ice crystals and will bring us more of that useful glass than you ever imagined possible. What more do you need to start treating him with respect. I told you how we all kneeled before him, even the Magnar of the Thenns and it felt right. Wait until you see his enormous dragons rein fire on the dead bastards."

Mance looked at Jon who just shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his face. "No need to kneel, but a bit of trust would be highly appreciated."

"How old are you, if you do not mind my asking? You look hardly more than a boy but already you have accomplished more in a few sennights than all of us experienced fuckers have realised in years." For the first time Mance started to believe that they had a chance to defeat the White Walkers and their army of wights and he could perhaps let go of his initial plan of storming Castle Black and escaping south of the Wall with his people if negotiations failed. He realised all too well that the Free Folk didn't really want to live south of the Wall.

Jon hated the blush that rose in his cheeks. It would make him look even more like a green boy. "I am seventeen but have lived no ordinary life, Rayder. I was groomed to become a leader before I even knew what that word meant. I can count on a lot of support and have several honourable, wise, experienced men to advise and guide me."

"Well as far as I can tell, they are not around now and you sure are acting all decisive and competent. And I may be wrong but it sounds to me that most of the plans you have laid out before us are your own ideas and not something others are forcing upon you. Your demeanour is very revealing young one."

Jon just smiled in acknowledgement of the compliment. He noticed Tormund was busy filling their cups once more.

"Let's toast once more and get our lazy arses outside. I am in great need of some pussy. I intend to have plenty of fun before the fucking war starts." Tormund handed Jon his pint and put his arm around Jon's shoulder. "Come on Dragonrider, time to relax."

Jon stalled him for a moment. "There is still one favour I need to ask of you, Rayder."

"Call me Mance. I think you have earned it. What is it you would like me to do for you?"

Finally a question of his was not met with immediate distrust, Jon noticed.

"I would like to send a message to my Uncle Benjen Stark at Castle Black. He can forward it to my entourage as soon as my fleet reaches the Bay of Ice. I had thought to ask Orell to help me but I haven't seen him around."

Tormund spoke up before Mance got a chance to answer. "I have sent word to his clan to let him know you are here. I am confident he will arrive as soon as he can."

"There is no other way to convey a message?" Jon asked.

"I thought you were a skinchanger yourself." Mance interjected. "We have some birds in captivity. You only need to fly them to the wall."

Jon looked at Tormund a question in his eyes.

"I will stay by your side Dragonrider and guard your skinny back and your magical sword while you do your warg thing and are as vulnerable as a sleeping baby."

"Thanks, Tormund. I would certainly appreciate that. I just have to scribble some words and send the bird on its way. I hope you do not mind postponing your time with the ladies to help me?"

"The women will still be yearning for my big cock after I am done protecting Jon the Dragonrider. Come on let's get to it."

***

As it happened Jon had an excellent reason not to accompany Tormund on his quest for sexual satisfaction. Not that he censured Tormund. The mother of Tormund's children had passed away and the Free Folk had no strict rules on sexual encounters as long as both parties consented. Often the women made the first move and chose their partner. Usually once a child was born, the two parents bonded over the care of their offspring and in most cases stayed loyal to one another.

Orell had arrived during Jon's warging session and Jon had been happy to use the serendipitous timing as an acceptable excuse to abandon Tormund for the afternoon and most probably also evening entertainment of his choosing.

Jon and Orell quickly got reacquainted and walked out of the camp to install themselves in a secluded spot not far from the place were Jon's dragons were slumbering. Both wargs shared experiences. Jon was grateful for the useful flying tips Orell gave him. The older man had been soaring through the sky for decades and taught Jon several ways of using the naturally occurring currents of rising air in the atmosphere to remain airborne. Orell described to an eager pupil how to recognise these so-called thermal columns which simply put were clouds of air that were ascending and that could lift you up with them so you saved energy if you guided a raven, an eagle and possibly also a dragon if you were really high up in the air. The higher you got, he explained, the larger and more powerful these thermal columns got.

They had spent the rest of the day while it was still light out alternating between Orell showcasing this technique and Jon trying to mimic this first with a small bird and later on with Rhaegal. Viserion had played along and both dragons had enjoyed this playful moment with their human. After dark, Jon had described the mental exercises he had repeated daily as a young boy to develop his warging skills. Most of them Orell could perform without conscious effort. A few others demanded more of his concentration and he told Jon he would try to master these over time. Orell thanked Jon and told him his input would certainly help him to teach warging in a more structured way to young children that showed their first signs of this ability.

The next evening when Jon returned from his first all day scouting mission, Rykker and Stokeworth were waiting for him at the settlement with a message from Uncle Benjen about the situation at Castle Black and one from Davos written the moment the ships had arrived at Bear Island.

Interlude 17: More visitors for Lord Reed

Prince Oberyn Martel stood at the prearranged meeting place in the Neck. It had gradually been getting colder the further he travelled. Today was a sunless day but at the edge of the swamp the air felt oppressive. Oberyn removed the heavy cloak he had brought along for this visit to the far North. His daughter had done so earlier and was scanning the landscape impatient to get going. Howland Reed however had warned them not to traipse through the bogs of the Neck on their own but to wait for the guide he would send them.

Three figures finally appeared from between the green reeds. The man in the lead was clearly the guide, his short stature and green attire identified him as a crannogman. Oberyn didn't recognise the two other men the guide was escorting out of the swamp. He saw they were staring him down as well. The guide however led them straight to a stable that Oberyn hadn't realised was there before. Next thing he saw was the two men swiftly riding off in the direction of the Kingsroad.

Now it was their turn to leave their horses behind and navigate the small winding paths through the swamps of the Neck. But Prince Oberyn paid neither the dangerous road nor the tricky weather conditions much mind. He was looking forward to finally meeting the famous greenseer that had helped him play cat and mouse with Littlefinger over the years and win almost every game.

***

"Did you know I heard the most amazing rumour while travelling across the Riverlands?" Oberyn directed his question at his host. They had arrived earlier that day and after a reinvigorating bath and some rest they were now being served a hot meal in the presence of their host.

At first he had been disappointed when a small lean man had introduced himself as Lord Howland Reed. However Oberyn had needed just a short time in his company to get drawn in by the strange eyes and enigmatic demeanour of the crannogman.

He noticed Howland Reed deliberating before he answered him. "I do not suppose you mean the dragon sightings, Prince Oberyn?"

Oberyn caught his host studying Nymeria's reaction. "My daughter is aware of my actions, Lord Reed. She wants to swear her sword to Lord Celtigar if he allows it."

Nymeria raised her head and looked at her father. "Actually, my spear would be more accurate. And I need to meet the famed man first before making my final decision, as I have told you several times already, Father."

"I believe you were about to tell me an entertaining rumour?" Howland Reed brought the conversation back on track.

"Indeed. Imagine my surprise when one of the mousy Freys I encountered in a tavern was talking about Eddard Stark and how he was not the rightful heir to Winterfell." Oberyn paused driving up the suspense.

"A mousy Frey, you say?" Lord Reed played along.

"I forgot his name. They all have that same drab insignificant face. But never mind the messenger. It was his message that drew the attention of several drunkards. Rumour has it that Eddard Stark's elder brother, Brandon Stark sired a trueborn son, though some versions of the story claim he is a bastard which allegedly explains why he is not the current Lord of Winterfell. Anyway, this supposed son of Brandon Stark senior I was told is a fierce warrior and apparently led the defense at the Stony Shore when at least two hundred Ironborn ships attacked there." Oberyn's eyes twinkled now.

Howland Reed had read the report from a dismayed and rather upset Ser Gerold and had been vastly amused himself by the erroneous reasoning that had resulted in such an outlandish rumour. He had written back to Ser Gerold reassuring the man that nothing would come of it and to just move on and forget he ever heard it. He focused his attention back on Prince Oberyn when he asked him. "How did you react to that?"

"I told them I only heard rumours of dragons. And then I proceeded to ask him in my most serious voice if they were sure they were talking about a man or a dragon, since I was fairly sure that I had heard tell that it was a dragon that had single-handedly defeated the Ironborn fleet at the Stony Shore." Oberyn grinned.

"That is not a joke, Prince Oberyn. A man from a certain bloodline is sometimes referred to as a dragon. You could have put the idea in their heads. And what once started as a ridiculous rumour could get a smart man to think twice and come up with an answer very near to the truth."

"Not if you put other ideas in the heads of drunkards and simple-minded Freys." Oberyn countered. "They immediately corrected me stating there was only one dragon flying around and that it belonged to the Golden Company not knowing that it was my daughter Nymeria and myself that had started that rumour before in other taverns." His smile turned smug when he stopped talking.

"I am not too humble to accept praise for my efficient rumour spreading skills.

"He also told the Freys that the Ironborn were gone and would not be back for a long time. You should have seen the stricken look on their mousy faces." Nymeria Sand added to her father's tale.

"Our journey through the Riverlands has been fruitful. We have thwarted several schemes. Helped sensitive information reach Riverrun and put the fear of repercussion by Houses Tully and Stark in the minds of many servants of House Frey and every single descendent of Walder Frey we happened to encounter. I thoroughly enjoyed starting the rumour that House Bolton had reconciled with House Stark on the occasion of the impending royal visit and that they were considering retaliating against the traitors of House Tully that were by extension traitors to House Stark. I told them they should watch their skin very carefully because the Boltons liked making coats of it."

"I doubt that Walder Frey will fall for that." Howland Reed interjected.

"Maybe not, but a bit of doubt can cripple a man." Oberyn countered. "I lost nothing by trying. Rumours will come at him from all sides. My beautiful daughter is very skilled at infiltrating all kinds of places and planting ideas into other people's minds."

Nymeria just smiled and concentrated on eating her food. Her father however was enjoying himself immensely.

"Perhaps I forgot to mention that I also spoke to them about how Littlefinger has lost the ear of the King? That piece of gossip is certain to affect Walder Frey. He will be even more willing to believe it since we intercepted a messenger by accident, shared his evening meal and sent the man on his way with a lighter saddle bag than before."

"Do you mean you stole his messages?" Howland Reed clearly liked were all of this was going.

"Indeed, if you would like to read a nice bedtime story, I can give you the latest scrolls Littlefinger has written but that will unfortunately never find their way into the hands of Walder Frey. I did have some compassion for the lonely man though and saw to it he still received one nice letter, only with a slightly different content."

"I hesitate to ask." Howland Reeds green eyes twinkled now.

"Oh, I was not so very naughty. It only mentioned that the previously agreed to scheme was delayed due to unforeseen troubles with the Ironborn and that Littlefinger needed to re-establish his political position due to the appointment of a new Hand of the King before deciding which allies he still needs for his self-preservation."

"So Walder Frey thinks his support is being withdrawn for the time being, perhaps even indefinitely." Oberyn saw Howland Reed starting to believe that his actions would have a significant impact.

"I did as much as I could. While at Riverrun, I asked Lord Tully to send men throughout the Riverlands to try and shoot down all ravens headed for or leaving the Twins. You know and I know that Walder Frey will not take on House Tully without external support. He is too much of a coward. It may well be that my daughter and I have done just enough to stave off this crisis. Do you think I may expect a thank you letter from Eddard Stark if we can get these scrolls into his hands?"

"Well, you are heading north and I am travelling to Winterfell as well. If we time it right, we can intercept Lord Stark just west of White Harbour and hand them to him personally."

"This journey gets better and better." Oberyn filled his cup of wine again and raise it. "To a swift and peaceful outcome."

"I'll drink to that. I think I can make your visit to Greywater Watch even more worth your while." Howard Reed drank from his cup his eyes not leaving Oberyn's face.

"Do tell. Ever since I encountered Benjen Stark all these years ago, my life has been one amazing adventure. I am open for anything you conspirators can come up with."

"Well I think both of you will like this surprise. I wonder if I should spoil it by telling you what it is beforehand." He enjoyed duelling with words with his exotic guest.

"Have we not done enough to earn a small reward?" Oberyn tried to persuade his host.

"Well, I am expecting another visitor soon. I presume he will be arriving in three or four days and will stay just the one night. We should leave the next day anyway to intercept Lord Stark. That is if you are planning on joining me on a big part of your journey north.

"Everyone told me you lived here rather isolated and I believed them. That's five visitors back to back. May I ask who the two callers that our guide escorted safely out of the swamps this morning were?" Oberyn was sure he never had seen the two men before and was curious to know whether these were fellow conspirators.

"Those two were surprise visitors to me as well. Have you never in all your travels come across Lord Beric of House Dondarrion or Thoros of Myr a red priest?"

"Not in person. I know of the priest's reputation." Prince Oberyn looked intrigued.

"Don't we all." Lord Reed remarked drily.

"Father, you haven't given Lord Reed the chance to tell us what visitor he is expecting three or four days from now." Nymeria had never heard of the two men before and Lord Reed had piqued her interest with the mysterious way in which he had announced his future visitor. "A nice surprise I think you promised us, Lord Reed?"

"Well only if you have never met a dragonrider before." Oberyn watched Lord Reed trying to suppress a big grin but fail. Then his words registered.

"Jon? Jon is coming here? Are you certain! Oh the Gods be praised. I have been counting the moons that separated me from laying eyes on that dear boy again. Letters just are not enough to do a relationship like ours justice."

"Better not call him boy. Ser Gerold's letters tell me of a Prince bossing him around. Can you picture that? I am very eager to see the dear boy as well."

"As am I. Father told me he has the most adoring black curls and could pass for a girl when he counted eleven namedays." Nymeria looked like a kid who had been given the nameday present she most wanted to receive.

"I didn't say it like that exactly." Oberyn defended his erstwhile description of Jon. "I said his curls would look lovely on a girl's head. That's something entirely different. Do not go blabbering what you just said to Jon. That boy likes me and I'd like to keep it that way." The mirth shone from his eyes though.

"Well, let us hope our Prince doesn't get delayed and we can all enjoy his company for a day." Howland Reed's tone implied that subject was closed for now.

Not long after everyone retired after Lord Reed promised them an extensive tour of his domain the next day.

***

Four days later, all eyes in the courtyard of Greywater Watch were trained on the northern sky. The weather hadn't changed and it was still cloudy and humid in the swamps. Nymeria was the first to point out two black spots appearing beneath the clouds. Sure enough, not long after Jon carefully landed Rhaegal in the training yard where he had fond memories of sword-fighting sessions with his Kingsguard and Robb.

Lord Reed told everyone to stay back. As soon as Jon dismounted, Rhaegal joined his brother who circled over the courtyard and both of them flew off in the direction of the Godswood.

Jon immediately sought out Lord Reed and embraced his former foster father not paying attention to the two figures behind him. "I am so glad I finally found the opportunity to come and see you. It has been too long."

"It has indeed. You have grown into a fine young man but your letters and the messages I got from your circle of advisers and protectors made me expect no less. We'll reminisce later, first let me introduce you to two of my guests who claim they single-handedly averted the crisis in the Riverlands."

"Prince Oberyn!" Jon exclaimed and then remembered his manners. He bowed his head slightly. "Greetings. What a happy coincidence. You are looking well as ever. I really hope we have time to catch up and perhaps a sparring session?" Jon eye's twinkled. "And this lovely young lady I presume is your daughter, Nymeria Sand?"

"What's with the formalities? Come here." Oberyn swallowed to words 'my boy' just in time, took the last step separating him from the Targaryen Prince and gave him a short but welcome hug.

Nymeria made a curtsy. Jon smiled and acknowledged her gesture with a slight nod. "I have not heard that much about you, my Lady. Just that you and your sisters are beautiful and at the same time fierce fighters. I can already tell the first compliment is the absolute truth as far as you are concerned. The second one you could show to me by assenting to a short sparring session later? I would very much like your help to persuade your father to join us so I have a chance to cross his spear again now that I have grown up some."

Nymeria looked at her father. "You need to be persuaded to enter a fight? Since when?"

Oberyn just laughed. "Come one, if Howland Reed told true, this young man flew a long way. Let us all go inside and take some refreshments first. If that is all right with you, Lord Reed?" Oberyn remembered just in time he was not the host here.

They spent a lovely afternoon reminiscing, had a short sparring session where Jon bested them all which made Oberyn sigh in resignation, Nymeria determined to train harder and Lord Reed very proud. That evening they discussed politics over supper.

Since Jon was set to leave right before dawn he said goodbye to Prince Oberyn and his daughter at the dinner table. He wished them a safe journey north and promised them that he would be waiting for them at the Wall. He told them he already looked forward to introducing them to the Free Folk.

Nymeria saw him leave with regret in her eyes. She had tried to give him subtle hints but the handsome Targaryen Prince had skillfully evaded every seductive gesture she had made. Her father had warned her beforehand that the Prince was a rather responsible youth who would not take a girl to bed just for the fun of it. All the same, she had hoped her father had it wrong or that she could turn out to be the exception.

Howland Reed intercepted Jon before he could enter his room that night and told him there still were some things he needed to discuss with him. Once behind closed doors, he started by telling Jon about the strange encounter with Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion and how these two new allies were travelling to the Stormlands to assess the situation there. They would also try to counteract the influence a red priestess was rumoured to have over Lord Stannis Baratheon.

They briefly discussed Jon's troubles with Jeor Mormont. Howland Reed promised him that everything would work itself out. He had felt it prominently in a green dream that ended with a strange prophesy. 'Lion trumps bear without either one using their claws.' Because of the feeling associated with this dream Howland Reed feared that Jeor Mormont's days as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch were numbered.

Jon brought up the subject of Bran's almost fall and of his emerging warging abilities.

"I wondered if you would be up to fostering another boy, Lord Reed. I think Bran has the potential to become a powerful warg. I planted the idea of sending him here in Lord Stark's mind. I hope I did not overstep." Jon added that last bit just to be polite but he was fairly sure his former foster-father would take to Bran as quickly as he had once taken to a small orphan from the Driftmark.

Lord Reed assured him he would feel honoured to guide the young Stark and then changed the subject without revealing that that was the actual reason why he was headed north anyway. He asked Jon once more how fast he could fly and also to tell him in detail how tiring the journey had been from Castle Black to Winterfell and from Winterfell to Greywater Watch. Jon just looked at him with knowing eyes and revealed that he already intended to make a stop of one or two days at the Vale before flying to the Driftmark to complete his initial mission of picking up a small amount of dragonglass.

Howland Reed was astonished but relieved and together they discussed the best strategies to deal with the situation at the Vale. When they were finally ready to retire, Lord Reed promised him he would be up early enough to see him off. He didn't envy the Targaryen Prince who had to take so much upon himself. He could only pray to the Old Gods each night to keep the Prince Who Was Promised safe.