-Chapter 29-
-POV Rickon Stark-
Seeing Aemon Targaryen sitting in front of me really worried me because I knew that if he remembered us, it was to use us in the power games of the southerners.
'Power games that often end in fire and blood,' I thought as I heard a roar so loud that the castle walls shook.
"I must confess something to you," said the prince, taking the cup of wine that Amanda, the servant, had served him, pulling me out of my thoughts.
'The last barrel of Dornish wine... Bennard will be angry with me for moons because of this.'
"I'm not just here for the southern intrigues."
I raised an eyebrow, incredulous, and said in a teasing tone, "For what else, the sun?"
The prince smiled, shaking his head, and said, "Of course not, dragons prefer warmer climates. I think stronger ties with the Northern Houses are in order."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his words, and then asked, "Why?"
"Because I find that the Northern Houses value loyalty more than those in the South," replied Prince Aemon.
"So, we're back to southern intrigues," I said, smiling slightly.
"Everything in the kingdom revolves around southern intrigues, but I sincerely admire the history and firm hand that House Stark has over the North."
I raised an eyebrow and then said, "You know the history of House Stark?"
"Surely not as well as you, but I've greatly enjoyed the stories of Brandon the Builder, Brandon the Breaker, and Jon Stark. But I must admit, the one who has sparked the most questions and admiration is Brandon the Bloody Blade. Some accounts speak of him as the ancestor of your house's founder, Brandon the Builder," said the prince, to my great surprise.
"Very few people in the North still remember the names of my ancestors. I would never have imagined that a southerner would be more informed about my House's genealogy than some of my own vassals," I said, truly impressed.
The prince smiled and said, "I sincerely admire the way of life, the folklore, and the unity that reigns in the North."
"Very well, then let me show you around Winterfell, if you would like," I said, standing up.
"With great pleasure," said the prince, following me.
---
-5 moons later-
-3rd day of the 11th moon of the year 114 AC-
-POV Arnold Arryn-
Seeing the Red Keep again after so many years felt strange. I was slightly anxious about what was about to happen, and at the same time, I could hardly wait, for I wanted more than anything to participate in the events that would surely change and mark the history of the realm.
Dressed in silver armor and a sky-blue surcoat, not the bronze color of all the knights of House Royce who were part of the very famous order of knighthood, the 'Bronze Shields', led by Prince Aemon Targaryen, Lord of Runestone, who was also my liege lord to whom I had sworn loyalty and fealty.
I paraded proudly through the streets of the capital on my pristine white destrier, among the 200 knights who had come with me under the command of Gunthor, who had now made quite a name for himself and was called the Bronze Giant because of his size and ferocity in battle.
No one dared to challenge the knights of the Bronze Shields, both out of fear and respect that we inspired in all the inhabitants of the Vale.
'Respect that they will all have for me once I have reclaimed what is rightfully mine,' I thought, allowing myself a moment to consider my legitimate inheritance, usurped by Jeyne Arryn: the seat of Lord of the Eyrie, Warden of the Vale.
DRAGON ROAR
My smile faded as I heard a sound that shook my insides, a sound all too familiar, reminding me that even after reclaiming my throne with the help of House Royce, there would still be an obstacle in my path if I truly wanted to become the Warden of the Vale, and not just a puppet under the control of the man who rode that giant beast.
'It keeps growing. Soon, even the Targaryens will feel threatened by it. That might be my chance to free myself from my chains,' I thought, making sure to keep an unreadable expression for Gunthor, who, although my friend, was unwaveringly loyal to his nephew.
Gunthor was practically my mentor, as he had trained me. And although we had earned our spurs and knightly titles together, he had truly earned his by single-handedly taking down a dozen raiders, while I had only taken down one.
'If a war had broken out earlier, he would have earned his spurs years ago. He is the second-best blade in House Royce, after his nephew, who has recently shown exceptional talent in combat.'
'A talent surely inherited from his father, who is still praised today as the finest blade in the realm, despite his repeated defeats against Ser Criston Cole.'
"You seem quite worried all of a sudden," said Gunthor, slowing his horse to match my pace.
"You know very well what's on my mind."
"I do, but if you want our prince's plan to succeed, you must appear as relaxed as possible, not like a dog looking for a bone to chew on to calm your nerves," said Gunthor.
I rolled my eyes and then said, "I'll relax."
"You'd better, for today we will take down Jeyne Arryn and make you Lord of the Eyrie."