The castle was named Long Lake for obvious reasons. The castle sat on the eastern shore of Long Lake, a large expanse of water just northeast of Winterfell and southwest of Last Hearth. The keep itself was modest compared to the likes of Moat Cailin, Winterfell, and even Deepwood Motte. The walls and the keep were made of dark grey stone pulled from a nearby quarry.
Jon hadn't seen the original keep as he had been in the south with Robb while construction had been going on, but the original layout had been like the ring forts of the First Men, with the main hall in the center of a ring of spiked logs. The new castle was constructed in the same fashion, with a stout keep surrounded by four walls, a tower at each corner. Jon's banner, a white wolf running across a field of black, flew over the keep.
"Look at that bud," Jon said, speaking quietly to the massive albino direwolf at his side. "We're home."
Jon, on his return from King's Landing, had stopped by Winterfell where he visited with his family and helped Ser Mychel, the new master-at-arms, train Rickon. He had also had many good spars with Arya, helping her adapt her style of fighting against the Westerosi fighting style. Jon was by no means the best warrior in Westeros, but between him and Ser Mychel, Arya was certainly learning a lot between the two battle-hardened warriors.
One of the best parts about being in Winterfell for Jon was being able to sit at the high table with his father and the rest of his family. Arya, who has always been smarter than her age, knew how much it meant to Jon to sit with them after being demoted to the low tables with squires and stablehands all his life.
There was a slight knoll that rose under the road as it led towards Long Lake. It was an appropriate place to stop before finishing the journey. It had been a long time since Jon had been able to call a place home. Winterfell had been his home for so long, and then he had given it all up to become a brother of the Night's Watch. He had given that up as well to fight by Robb's side, and so he hadn't had a true home for over two years. But now he did, and that one thought caused a smile to take over his face.
Together, the black-clad rider and the white wolf finished the rest of the journey at a relaxed pace, nodding to the workers and villagers as they passed through the small village that had been erected just outside the castle. Because the builders had spent so long on the castle, they had moved their families as well. Them, along with men and women who had once been thralls on the Iron Islands, created a small community that had all the necessary members; a blacksmith, a tanner, a couple hunters and fishers, and more than a dozen craftsmen and farmers.
"Lord Stark," one man greeted as Jon and Ghost entered the courtyard. He was heavy-set with heavily muscled arms and shoulders.
"I am," Jon said. "You are?"
"Fergus, my lord." the man answered. "I've been supervising the construction of the castle for you and Lord Stark in Winterfell."
"You've done a great job." Jon praised with a smile. "You and your men will be handsomely rewarded."
Fergus and his builders had done an impressive job for how short-staffed they were. Most of them came from Winterfell or Moat Cailin, both of which were under heavy construction. The fact that they were able to tear away the rotting wood of the old structure and erect an entire keep and battlements in a year was nothing short of miraculous.
"That's very kind of you, my lord," Fergus said with a grin. "Some rest after a job well done is exactly what they deserve."
Jon clasped arms with the builder before striding towards his keep, where his maester was waiting in the doorway. Maester Erwin was an older man, late sixties, with steely grey hair and stubble. He wore a chain of many common links but still wasn't as impressive as Luwin's, the late maester of Winterfell. He had been sending Jon regular updates on the construction of the keep.
"Erwin," Jon said, walking up to the man, who gave a slight bow in response.
"My lord, I have found many interesting things that you might want to have a look at." The maester said, skipping the small talk.
Jon nodded and together the two men made their way to the lord's solar, where a few messages and books neatly covered Jon's desk. While Ghost stretched out next to the fire, Jon sat behind the desk and immediately began to open up and read the messages with Erwin hovering over his shoulder.
Many of the messages were from lords throughout the North and the Riverlands, offering their daughters or young sisters as marriage prospects for Jon. Ever since Robb had verified Jon's status as a Stark, many nobles had subtly, or not too subtly, been hinting at who Jon might marry. Many nights in King's Landing, Jon sat with Lady Olenna, who took great amusement whenever the subject was brought up.
Jon glanced over every message he received, setting aside the ones about marriage prospects. Soon, he was left with a small stack of messages regarding things that were important. The first one Jon picked up was a raven message from King's Landing.
It read:
Jon,
NW nds hlp.
Snd rprt to WF & KL
Y.B Robb
Jon raised his eyebrow and handed the maester the raven scroll. "Do you know anything about this?"
Erwin shook his head. "The raven arrived this morning, my lord. I haven't heard much from the Night's Watch."
Jon took the message back, a thoughtful look on his face. "The situation has to be serious or else Robb wouldn't be sending me."
"Shall I have your horse saddled?" Erwin asked.
Jon shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'll leave in the morning. What else is there to look at?"
The last few messages weren't of grave importance and Jon was able to draft replies in a few minutes, handing them to Erwin.
"Maester, you said that there was something that I needed to see?" Jon asked, pouring himself a drink.
The maester nodded quickly and dropped the scrolls into a small pouch in his robes before moving over to a side table that was stacked high with books. The maester grabbed them now and put them in front of Jon.
"Some of the builders found them while replacing the foundations. They were hidden in a lower room set under a hidden trap door in the back of where the great hall would have been." Erwin explained, pulling a slip of parchment from the book at the top of the stack. "There was a note saying that they were from Winterfell, left here by a man named Luwin."
Jon sat straight back in his chair, snatching the parchment from the maester. He wasn't wrong, he recognized Luwin's handwriting. It was shaky, but it was undoubtedly the old maesters. Jon wondered why Luwin had hidden the books.
The message said simply that the books were invaluable and belonged to House Stark. That was curious to Jon because Luwin was a jealous guardian of every book within Winterfell, and would have demanded that the books return to the castle, not to the Starks.
"Do you know what these say?" Jon asked eventually, looking up at Erwin. The maester shook his head.
"A lot of it was written in the language of the First Men." He answered with a slight tone of annoyance. "It is rather odd because the language of the First Men has mostly died out in Westeros except for the clans in the Vale and here in the North."
Jon tapped his desk. "Get a messenger to Hugo Wull. Hopefully, he knows someone who can translate these books."
"Yes, my lord," Erwin said with a slight bow. "Do you want me to transcribe the books?"
Jon gazed at the books. "No, see if you can work out the title of the books, perhaps what they may be about. If they are important, send them to King's Landing to the Grand Maester."
"Forgive me, my lord, but why?" Erwin asked.
"If it's truly important, then Sam and Robb need to know," Jon said, getting up from his desk and casting the marriage proposals into the fire beside Ghost. "I was in King's Landing for a year. Neither there nor the Citadel had very much knowledge about the First Men. These books are all written in the language. With them in King's Landing, they can be transcribed quicker there and be of more use."
Erwin bowed. "Of course, my lord."
Jon nodded, still feeling Erwin's confusion and quiet annoyance. He probably felt that Jon was passing him over at a chance at a huge academic achievement for others. Jon certainly wasn't, he just wanted to make sure that the books were going to those who needed the information in them. Simply having them transcribed and put on a shelf wouldn't do anything.
"I will draft a message tonight for my brother letting him know that it was you who discovered these books," Jon said quietly, still standing by the fire. "I have a feeling that these books are important and that Luwin hid them here for a reason."
Erwin, surprised by Jon's honest admittance, looked a little shame-faced and bowed again. "Of course, my lord. Thank you."
"Think nothing of it," Jon said. "Can you let the kitchens know that we will have a feast for the builders and their families? No need for anything fancy. A good, hot meal and good ale will be enough."
Erwin bowed again and left, leaving Jon and Ghost alone. When the maester closed the door behind him, Jon looked down at the wolf, who was looking back at him with blood-red eyes.
"I'm not crazy, am I?" Jon asked the wolf quietly. "Having those books sent Robb?"
Thankfully, Ghost didn't respond.
Jon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have a strange feeling that those books contain something. Something important. I don't know what, but Luwin wouldn't hide them there for no reason. Besides, how could he have gotten to them in the first place? Osha said that Theon brought them straight from the cells to the crypts. There's no way that Luwin could have gotten to the library and collected them so fast. Luwin was also asleep when the ironborn took Winterfell, and so he couldn't have hidden them then."
Realization suddenly dawned on Jon. "Unless they weren't in the library. What if they were in the crypt?" He asked aloud. It answered the question of how Luwin got his hands on them, but not why they were in the crypts in the first place. Also, Jon had been in the crypts dozens of times and had never noticed books anywhere.
He glanced over his shoulder at the books. They were all in good condition, each about the thickness of two or three shields stacked one on top of the other. Their titles were written in the runes of the First Men. He knew that Sam would have a great time deciphering the books.
Jon shook his head. "Robb and Sam will know what to do with them," he said quietly. "I have my mission."
Daenerys Targaryen
They were walking again.
It was now a normal occurrence that she and Ser Barristan would take a walk just after lunch after Daenerys had dealt with all that she needed to. The former queen didn't have to do much in terms of ruling the island. Most of what she dealt with was trading and making sure that the people of the small fishing village were safe and content. Other than that, she did not have much else to do besides reading and walking around the island.
Her walks had started as a way to deal with her frustration. Ser Barristan always followed her, and after storming out a few times, Daenerys began conversations with the old knight to keep her mind off her anger. Now their walks were a part of their daily routines that she secretly looked forward to. She would ask Ser Barristan for advice, information about Westeros, and about his time as a kingsguard for her family. His thoughts in general. They were always peaceful, pleasant conversations that helped Daenerys relax.
Many of their first daily walks had been Ser Barristan helping Daenerys come to grips with losing her crown. She had been raised believing that she was Westeros' rightful queen, that lords and ladies would flock with their armies to her banner and together they would help her defeat all other false claimants. Instead, no one had flocked to her banner as they had all declared for Robb Stark, a successful and just ruler who came from an old and respected house.
For the first few months, Daenerys struggled with the idea of taking the second chance Robb had given her to take her revenge or to do as he suggested and turn House Targaryen, which would be over with her, into a house that did some good in its final years. Ser Barristan had helped Daenerys see that both she and Robb wanted what was best for Westeros, but that he was better suited to rule. Daenerys could still do good, just as she always wanted, but Robb had been declared king by almost all of Westeros and there was nothing she or her dragons could do to change its mind.
After she had accepted her fate, she was beginning to see just how amazing Robb and his queen were doing. Trade was increasing, much of which was stopping by Dragonstone, and according to the occasional note from Varys in Pentos, the rest of Westeros was prospering as well. Cities and castles that had been hit hard by the war were quickly being rebuilt and the changes that Robb Stark had instituted were a huge success throughout Westeros.
Daenerys looked around as she and Ser Barristan walked. The sea spread out around them like a grey-blue blanket, the island a green and black dot in the middle of it all. Dragonstone was not a large island, with most of it dominated by the castle and the mountain, but there was a certain rugged beauty to it. It felt like home to Daenerys, a feeling she did not have in King's Landing.
"How are Drogon and Rhaegal?" Ser Barristan asked kindly, his hands clasped behind his back as they walked.
He no longer wore armor. His kingsguard armor, which he was ready to throw into the sea, now resided in the White Sword Tower as a tribute to one of the greatest Kingsguards in existence, a favor asked by Robb Stark's commander, the warrior woman Brienne. Now, he wore a sleeveless leather tunic, belted at the waist, over a wool shirt. As always, he had his sword at his side.
"They are still inconsolable," Daenerys answered sadly.
Ever since the death of their brother, Viserion, Daenerys' last two dragons have kept to themselves, residing in a cave high up on the mountain. They only left to stretch their wings and were fed three times a day when sheep were led up to their cave by Unsullied. Daenerys had tried to coax Drogon from his black mood, but he had snarled at her and turned his back, making it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with her. As Daenerys regarded her dragons as her children, Drogon's rejection had hurt her deeply.
Rhaegal hadn't been as bad as his brother. For the first few months, it had almost been like Rhaegal was searching for something. But a few weeks ago, he descended into the same black depression as Drogon. The green and bronze dragon was beginning to vex Daenerys.
"I'm sure they'll be better soon," Ser Barristan said, ever the optimist. "They just need time. They are young, after all."
Daenerys smiled slightly at the old knight as they walked. "What do you think of King Robb's Kingsguard?"
Ser Barristan raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. "His Kingsguard? They are good warriors and good people."
"Are they as gifted as my father's Kingsguard?" Daenerys asked, making idle conversation.
Ser Barristan shook his head. "I do not believe so, my lady. They are talented warriors who are said to have fought well against the Lannisters, but none I would say are as deadly as Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold, or even the Kingslayer."
"The Kingslayer?" Daenerys asked. "I thought you said that his page in the White Book was practically empty."
Ser Barristan nodded. "It is, but he is a pure natural with a blade, my lady. If things had been different, had he not sullied his cloak with his sister or had the war not started, I am sure he would have died as one of the most talented and respected knights of the kingsguard."
"High praise," Daenerys said, slightly surprised.
"He was a great warrior, but his lack of judgment destroyed him in the end." Ser Barristan sighed. "A fate many men share."
"Men like my brother Rhaegar?" Daenerys asked suddenly, stopping and turning to look at the knight.
Barristan stopped as well. "My lady, what is wrong? This is the first time in over a year you have mentioned your eldest brother."
Daenerys tilted her head and continued to walk, Ser Barristan immediately falling in step with her. "As much as I try not to, I can't help but wonder what compelled my brother to abscond with Lyanna Stark. I know that he was obsessed with a prophecy, and I have read the words myself, but I fail to see his reasoning."
Ser Barristan considered her words for a moment before responding. "I can't say that I know your brother's mind. I was not with him when he….committed his acts. The men who were closest to the Bard Prince were Jon Connington and Ser Arthur."
"Both of whom were dead," Daenerys said dryly. "Though, I do question if Connington knew my brother as much as you say he did. He looked quite enraged when Robb Stark brought up Rhaegar's affair with his aunt."
Barristan shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. "Connington was always loyal to Rhaegar, more so than any man I had ever seen. It was very close to obsessive."
Daenerys nodded slowly. "Nevertheless, Rhaegar feared that a great darkness, an evil of some kind, was bearing down on Westeros. He believed so much in the prophecy about the 'Prince that was Promised' that he tried to make it come true. A prince and his song of 'Ice and Fire'."
Daenerys then stopped. The two had somehow managed to find their way down to a secluded section of beach at the base of the mountain and below the eastern wall of the castle. But all Daenerys could do was look out at the waves.
"My lady?" Ser Barristan asked curiously.
"Rhaegar had another child," Daenerys said slowly.
"Another child?" Ser Barristan asked, now very confused. "Who?"
"A child with Lyanna Stark. A child born of rape." Daenerys practically spat. "After the battle of King's Landing, Eddard Stark sought me out after speaking with you and told me so himself. He said that my brother got Lyanna Stark with child, and raised them without telling them who their true parents are. A child of Ice and Fire. Stark and Targaryen."
Ser Barristan's face paled. "Lord Stark never spoke of any child. The topic of his sister was highly discouraged around him. As long as I've known Lord Stark, he's never mentioned his sister."
"He admitted to me, to my face, that there was a child born between my brother and his sister," Daenerys said, not sure why she was getting passionate about this.
Ser Barristan simply looked at her, not sure how to respond. After a moment, he shook his head. "My lady, because they had a child does not mean that they are the Prince that was Promised."
Daenerys turned to look at the elderly knight. "Perhaps you're right. Sorry. I'm rather annoyed with myself that it took me so long to figure that out."
"It's alright, my lady. Though I am not surprised that it was such a secret. He probably feared that Robert would kill the baby simply for being Rhaegar's." Ser Barristan said easily as they continued to walk.
"Lord Stark's words exactly," Daenerys said.
The two continued their walk down the beach, circling the base of the mountain until they reached the western side of the island. They soon reached two paths, one leading down towards the village and harbor and the other leading up towards the castle. For whatever reason, Daenerys looked back over her shoulder at the beach and noticed for the first time a cave.
"Ser Barristan, has there always been a cave here?" She asked, turning around fully.
Ser Barristan turned also, looking just as confused. "I never noticed one."
Together, the two walked towards it. The opening was indented in the rock face, and so the opening was barely noticeable, looking more like a crack until you looked harder and saw the opening. It was wide enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder and widened the deeper it went.
The floor was made of sand and rock, but something on the floor caught Daenerys' attention. She bent down to pick the object up, curious as to why it was shining. At first, she thought that it was a piece of metal until her hand touched it and it felt more like rock or glass.
"Ser Barristan?" Daenerys asked, holding the object in both hands.
The old knight was instantly at her side, looking closely at the thing in her hands. "We need more light, my lady. We should step out."
When they were back on the beach, Daenerys handed it to Ser Barristan, who got a proper look at it. It was a black, shiny rock that was shaped almost like an arrowhead. It was thin and sharpened like a broken triangle.
"What is it?" Daenerys asked.
Ser Barristan narrowed his eyes slightly as he regarded the object. "It looks like a broken arrowhead, my lady, made of dragonglass."
"Dragonglass?"
Ser Barristan nodded. "A rock made from fires in the earth according to maesters. It can be as sharp as steel but it is brittle. The Children of the Forest used to make weapons with it and it is also said to have magical properties if I remember correctly."
"What is it doing on the island?" Daenerys asked.
Ser Barristan shook his head, glancing back at the cave before looking at Daenerys. "I'm unsure, my lady. Perhaps Maester Pylos can be of more help. I'm sure he would also like to take a look at the cave."
Daenerys nodded. "Very well. Let's fetch Pylos."