Chapter 50: First of His Name

The table in Dany and Jon's Meereen chambers had a slightly tense atmosphere. Varys sat at one end, calm and collected as he took a sip of his wine, staring between the two Targaryen's. Dany looked relatively calm on the outside, but Jon could see distrust and doubt in her eyes. Jon meanwhile was just waiting for an excuse to whip his blade out and sever the bald eunuch's head.

"We haven't heard much of Westeros since I left Vaes Dothrak." Dany admitted. "Tell me, what was the outcome of the war?"

That peaked Jon's interest, as he silently prayed his family were well. Varys gulped some more wine and smiled too sweetly. "The war was a resounding victory for King Robert, Your Grace. Tywin and Cersei Lannister are dead, along with Joffrey Waters, Ser Kevan, and a number of lesser Lannisters. House Greyjoy is also all but extinct, having been eradicated after another pointless rebellion. I believe only Victarion and Theon Greyjoy remain, with the former at the Wall and the latter one handed after an incident inside Winterfell."

"And what of Lord Stark?" Jon asked before he could stop himself.

Varys grinned knowingly. "Lord Stark is well. As are all of your cousins. Robb was instrumental in the defence of the North from the Ironborn and Torrhen was a key reason that Casterly Rock fell, now known as the Butcher of the Rock after an apparent feral display."

"Torrhen, feral?" Dany asked, surprised. Varys raised an eyebrow at the Targaryen girl apparently knowing a Stark, but Dany scoffed. "Come Varys, I know you know of this display of magic that has coursed across the world."

Varys giggled. "I have heard some odd rumours it is true. Tales of another world, another set of wars."

"I know you distrust magic." Dany explained. "But this is a good thing for the realm."

"It is more united now than I have ever known it." Varys admitted. "Though there are still some that yearn for House Targaryen."

Dany grimaced, standing up and walking to a window. "They will have to yearn for longer. I have no interest in a war of conquest, and neither does Aegon." Varys looked at Jon questioningly, and Jon just stared back icily. "What we desire, is peace with House Baratheon so that we can join together and face the oncoming threat."

"I must say, I am surprised." Varys explained. "Your actions here have given you quite the reputation as a conqueror."

"A necessary reputation." Jon added coldly. "It shows that we are strong, that we will not bend easily, and we will not be easy to assassinate if the Usurper so desires."

Varys stared at Jon. "Any assassination attempt from King Robert was doomed to fail from the start, thanks to me." He explained. "I sat on his cancels, I fed him truths and half truths enough to keep my life, but I always served House Targaryen."

"What made you travel all this way?" Daenerys asked. "Last time it was…"

"I don't want to know about this past life, if Your Grace can spare me." Varys interrupted. "I left because the tides were changing. Jon Arryn made rash moves and was going to imprison and maybe kill children. I separated House Lannister from King's Landing and ensured that Casterly Rock stood alone, but after that I knew King Robert would start asking why I didn't mention the children's true parentage and I had to disappear. I travelled to Pentos to stay with our good friend Illyrio and I heard a peculiar tale of a strange Northman, resentful of his father that had stolen a rather royal harp to give to the Khaleesi." Varys grinned at Jon. "The harp was a giveaway to your true parentage Aegon, and I knew then I needed to keep an eye on the pair of you."

"And so you followed us here, I presume?" Dany asked.

Varys shook his head. "I stayed in Pentos, listening to the whispers from east and west. I learned all about Eddard Stark's betrayal and lies about a bastard son, and I even found out about a secret marriage, legitimising the true heir to the Iron Throne. Then when you started liberating Slavers Bay I knew I had to come and meet the pair of you, to offer my service however I can."

"And you are welcome here, Varys." Dany said firmly. "So long as you agree with our stance. Dark winds are coming, and the entire realm must be united. No plots, no secrets that can divide us."

"As you wish." Varys bowed. "There are some things from Westeros that might be important for you to know, however. Robb and Torrhen Stark are both fathers now."

Jon grinned at that. "I can't imagine either with a child." He admitted.

"Sansa Stark is married to a Bolton." Varys explained. Jon knew it was coming, but he still didn't like the thought of Sansa in the Dreadfort. "And King Robert was last known to be fighting off a plague in King's Landing. Illyrio tells me it is quite terminal."

That was the biggest news of it all. "The Usurper is dying?" Dany asked disbelievingly.

"If not already deceased." Varys answered.

Dany turned to Jon. "We could send an envoy home." She whispered. "If Stannis would treat with us…"

"We don't know the climate." Jon countered. "We should wait for word from my family."

Dany looked hesitant but nodded. "You are right, of course. The dragons aren't big enough and our army cannot conquer a continent."

"What you are doing here, freeing slaves and changing the area for the better, that is a worthwhile mission." Varys commented. "My advice, if you would hear it, is to keep doing what you are doing. Let the dragons grow, let your reputation as a fair and just leader grow. Sooner or later you shall step on western shores, but for now you are both needed here."

Bran Stark watched on from a Red Keep balcony as the delegation of Maesters paraded out of the city. Three days earlier had been a full week without any deaths, and for the most part the plague seemed to have ran its course. The Maesters had since confirmed it and barring a handful that still were suffering including the King, they had declared the city safe to reopen its gates and ports.

Of course, the jovial atmosphere from some reaches of the city wasn't spread everywhere. The residents from Fleabottom were still homeless as the entire area was in the process of being rebuilt in a more sanitary way. Bran had lost count of the number of times new architects and designers had been in meetings with Stannis to throw ideas around on how to house so many people in such a small space whilst still having a sanitary sewer system. It bored Bran if he was honest, and so for the most part he zoned out unless he was required to have an input or fetch the drinks.

Everything changed from that moment all the Maester's bar one, the new Grand Maester Yandel, left the city, however. The 12-year-old Stark moved from the balcony to his chambers as he would any other day, looking to get a quick meal in before another round of meetings after noon. As he neared his chambers however, a man dressed in Baratheon livery came rushing towards him.

"Brandon!" He said breathlessly. "You are needed in the Throne Room. Lord Stannis asked for you to go there urgently."

Bran was a bit surprised at the change in structure to his day, but he thanked the guard and went to collect Summer from his room before rushing down to the Throne Room. Inside he saw both Stannis and Renly staring at the Iron Throne. Nervous, he stroked the back of Summer's neck as he walked closer to the Baratheon brothers. "Lord Stannis, Lord Renly. You called for me?"

They both turned. Bran could see that Renly was red in the eyes and feared the worst. Stannis looked stern as usual. "Brandon, good you are here."

"Is everything alright?" Bran asked.

Renly scoffed, only to receive a glare from his elder brother. "He doesn't know." Stannis said firmly, before turning to Bran. "The King is dead."

Bran gasped as thoughts began swirling in his mind. His Father would be gutted he knew, but that also meant that Stannis was now King. He immediately got to one knee. "Your Grace."

"Stand, please." Stannis insisted. "The bells haven't rung yet, we are allowing the Dowager Queen to have a moment with the Princess before we announce it, but I wanted you here as we need to discuss a few things."

"Discuss things… with me?" Bran asked.

Stannis nodded. "Soon we will travel to Storm's End in order to bury my brother where he wished to be buried. Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen will join us there before travelling back with us to King's Landing." Bran gulped, he hadn't spoken with Shireen since the city was put into lockdown. "You will have less duties as I want you to sit with me and learn how to rule. As of right now, you are the Lord of Dragonstone."

Bran knew that it made sense, Stannis couldn't be the lord of two places after all, but the sudden weight of responsibility was almost crushing. "I'll learn everything I possibly can, Your Grace."

Stannis nodded. "You are a fine squire, Brandon. My daughter will be well with you as her husband." He turned back to the Iron Throne. "I was never meant for this. I was to simply aide my brother in Storm's End. Then I became Lord of Dragonstone because we won the rebellion, and now I am a King."

"You will be a fine King, Your Grace." Bran insisted.

Stannis didn't comment on that. "I want you to write to your Father. The news will be better coming from you. I can only imagine what he will feel after your Grandfather's death recently." Bran had never met his Grandfather and when he had heard the news it had barely registered. He had felt for his Mother though and sent a raven as soon as they were physically able to. "We will also have to prepare for a coronation. Your Father may have too much to do in the North, but I would like another representative of House Stark to be there, if you can arrange that."

"I will." Bran bowed his head.

"You should sit on the Throne." Renly told him. "Get used to it before…" He trailed off, unable to speak more.

Stannis nodded, and he patted Bran on the shoulder before he rose up the steps and placed a palm on one of the sword hilts on the arm rest of the Iron Throne. He gripped it firmer and turned, sitting down on the seat of King's. Bran knew he should be sad that the King was dead, but as he looked over at his mentor becoming King Stannis, the First of his Name, he could only feel a sense of pride.

The raven came to Winterfell around midday two days later, and the news hit Ned hard. He and Cat effectively locked themselves in Ned's solar so that he could mourn in peace and reminisce with his wife about all of their escapades as children right up until the last moment they saw one another.

As Ned and Cat mourned in his solar, Torrhen was with Domeric Bolton in the library pouring over some of the older tomes that the 8,000-year-old castle had collected, looking for any more information that could be helpful for the future fight. Most of them were faded and crumbling, but there were still a couple of books that were still readable.

They were interrupted when another set of footsteps entered the room. Torrhen looked up to see his twin first. "Sansa." He greeted fondly.

"Hello boys." She replied brightly. She ruffled Torrhen's hair and kissed Domeric on the cheek as she sat down beside him, opposite Torrhen. "Have you found anything."

Torrhen groaned and shoved his tome away. "Most of it is illegible, the other parts are the old tongue. I miss Valyrian."

Domeric chuckled, turning to Sansa. "The only thing I can think of is taking these to the Wildlings, some of them speak the old tongue still."

"That will have to wait." Sansa explained. "Father just got the news, King Robert is dead."

Torrhen stared at his sister in shock, silently closing the book and leaning on his elbows for support. "How is he?" He asked solemnly.

Sansa shrugged. "He and Mother are in his solar, I was on my way to find you when I was told." She placed a thick, brown leather doublet on the desk. In the middle of the chest was an indent of a longsword facing downwards, exactly like Domeric's drawn sigil. I finished this for you, it's the toughest thing I've ever made." She told them both. Domeric stood up, smiling as much as he could after the news and picked it up, holding it against his chest.

"What do you think?" Dom asked.

"It's better than the flayed man." Torrhen noted, and Sansa agreed.

"I also had this done." Sansa said, placing a navy cloth on the table. She began unfolding it and Torrhen noticed it was a tournament style standard with Domeric's new sigil on. The white sword truly stood out with its blood red outline, and the navy field was the exact same as the current House Bolton sigil.

Domeric traced his fingers over the material. "This is…" He was speechless. "Thank you."

"You can use it for tournaments for now I thought, that's why I made it this shape first." Sansa explained.

"I love it." Domeric told her, kissing her softly on the lips. "Thank you."

Torrhen could tell that he was in the way slightly, and so he stood up and piled the books together. "I'll leave you alone." He told them both. "If you get carried away… don't get caught by Septon Chayle." Domeric snorted in laughter whilst Sansa blushed a deep red, and Torrhen didn't wait for a response before he walked over to put the books back, leaving the wedded couple to show their appreciation for one another alone.

After the first couple of council meetings, Jon had had enough. He couldn't handle the constant arguments between the chosen freed slaves and the former Masters that had been elected onto the council and so he left the governance to Dany, while he helped Ser Jorah with training a standing army that would be ready to move out to any of the liberated cities in the Bay of Dragons. Apparently that is what it had been like with his other self, the one he constantly felt like he had to compare himself to in order to keep Dany's affections.

Now that they had settled, Jon found himself missing his old routine at Winterfell. Hearing about the war, with both Robb and Torrhen's exploits inevitably being praised throughout the North, made Jon miss his old life. He wanted to spar with Robb, to ride with Arya, to teach little Rickon how to fight. Sighing, he looked down from the apex balcony of the Great Pyramid at the city of Meereen. He was a foreigner, a stranger to all of these people, yet he was expected to help rule them.

Rhaegal must have sensed his uneasiness, and the green and bronze dragon flew out of the pyramid to join him, perching on Jon's shoulder silently. Jon smirked briefly and stroked Rhaegal's chin with his fingers. The dragon was the size of some of the dogs in Winterfell now and was getting slightly too heavy to sit on Jon's shoulders, but for the moment he didn't care. Rhaegal was the only constant companion Jon had now, with Ghost roaming somewhere outside the city, having not wanted to be locked up inside the pyramid.

"It's a good fit." A soft voice came from behind Jon. He turned his neck to see Daenerys walking towards him. "We just need to add some red to your drab clothes."

Jon snorted in amusement. "Maybe one day." He admitted. "How was the council?"

Dany rolled her eyes. "The freed men want one thing, the former masters want another and claim they will bring more war to the city. Nothing new." She explained. "I rather wish I could do as you do and not bother."

"One of us has to be there, and you are much better at diplomacy than I." Jon smirked, shaking Rhaegal off to go and fly around as Dany joined him. He opened his arms for her and allowed her to sink into his body, clearly needing the small act of comfort.

Dany sighed contently, wrapping her arms around his torso. "It won't be forever." She told him. Jon pulled back slightly to look down at her face. "I know what you're thinking, Jon. You miss your home, that's only right. I miss mine too, and we will get there once again, I swear it. You were the one that urged caution, remember?"

"I'm happy being here with you, and I still say that waiting for news is the right call." Jon admitted. "But being with you just doesn't seem to happen very much anymore."

Dany smiled sadly, reaching up and stroking Jon's cheek. "Meereen will quiet down soon enough, and we will not be waiting to hear from Winterfell forever. They know we are here, and they know we long for home. Once they send word, then we will plan to go home." Jon nodded, leaning down to capture Dany's lips with his own. After the initial contact Dany pushed forwards, deepening the kiss, only to be interrupted by Missandei coughing. "What is it?" Dany asked, irritated, as they broke apart.

"Apologies Your Grace, but there is a delegation from the House of Loraq here to see you urgently." Missandei explained.

Jon grimaced knowingly. "Hizdahr?"

"He wishes to speak about the fighting pits, I presume." Dany muttered darkly. "Not again." She said quietly before forcing a smile on her face and looking at Missandei. "I'll be right down."

She planted another quick kiss on Jon's cheek before she followed the woman from Naath back into the pyramid, leaving Jon to sigh and turn back to survey the city beneath him, although his mind was filled with the laughter of his family back home.

It took a couple of days after the news of King Robert's passing before Ned invited his eldest sons into his solar to discuss the future. As Torrhen and Robb walked in, they saw Ned hunched over a sheathed sword, one that Torrhen very clearly recognised.

"Dark Sister." He said solemnly.

Robb looked bewildered. "The Targaryen sword? It's here?"

"Did you not know?" Torrhen asked, surprised.

"The only people outside of this room that know I have it, are Howland Reed, your Mother, and Jon." Ned explained. He then began to tell the story of the Tower of Joy to his sons, who listened attentively. Once he had finished, he ran his hand over the hilt. "The question now of course, is what do we do now?"

"How do you mean?" Robb asked.

Ned sighed. "Robert was my friend long before he was a Lord, let alone a King. I was loyal to him through that friendship, and while I would always have rebelled after Aerys executed my Father and brother, it was easier to do so with Robert beside me. Now he is dead, and our loyalty to House Baratheon isn't as straightforward as it was a few day ago."

"Stannis has Bran." Robb reminded everyone. "He is engaged to the man's daughter."

"I know, and Daenerys has Jon." Ned explained. "Tell me, would you fight against one of your brothers if it came to it? Would you expect me to fight against one of my sons?" Robb couldn't answer that. "If things were as simple as Stannis turning away from the Seven to follow the Red God, this would be easier."

Torrhen shook his head. "Melisandre hasn't shown her face as far as I know." He said thankfully. "And we are all better off for it."

"Not to mention that House Baratheon are well loved now." Robb sighed. "The war just gone and King Robert's change since the revelation… I'm not sure what a Targaryen loyalist force would look like."

Ned smiled. "Robert died well liked and well thought of, despite all those years under the Lannister's thumb. He will be grateful of that I am sure, but Stannis is not well liked. Respected, yes, but not well liked."

"We don't even know what Jon thinks of all this." Torrhen said cautiously. "He isn't the type to want to put thousands in a grave for his birth right."

Robb nodded. "He would hate the thought." The heir to Winterfell turned to Ned. "Let me go to Meereen. I can speak with him and the Targaryen woman, gage their reaction to the news."

Ned disagreed. "You need to go with your Mother to Riverrun. She's still in mourning, and seeing the children running around her childhood home will be good for her. Your son should know the future Lord Tully as well."

Torrhen knew that his Father was right. "Sending someone to Meereen isn't a bad idea though."

Ned turned to Torrhen. "You've travelled far and wide and it is not fair to ask this of you, but I would have you do it."

Torrhen went to argue, but again, his father was right. "I know the city, even if my memories of it are dark." He muttered grimly.

"I wouldn't ask this of you if it were not necessary." Ned explained. "But the facts are we cannot afford to be drawn into another war before the Long Night comes. And thinking on it, you know the Targaryen…"

"Intimately." Robb smirked, earning an elbow in the ribs from Torrhen.

"Boys!" Ned said sharply. "This is serious. She has dragons, we need them, but we need them aimed at the Others, not at the living."

The younger Starks nodded. "I will go, Father."

"You should go to Stannis' coronation first." Robb offered. "Stannis asked for House Stark's support, give it to him for now. You can go towards Essos from there."

"Good thinking." Ned nodded. "Meanwhile I will ensure things continue running smoothly here."

Torrhen looked at his family. "We're all splitting up again." He said sadly. "Arya's off to Bear Island within the month, Sansa will soon be off to the Dreadfort…"

"Once this is all over, we can all be together." Ned explained. "Until that day, we must do our duty towards the living." Torrhen nodded. "And speaking of that, I have an idea that might be necessary for the coming battles, one that you aren't going to like, Tor…"

303 AC

The coronation of King Stannis Baratheon was held a month after King Robert's funeral. The Throne Room was crammed with people in. Torrhen recognised Lords and Nobles from the campaign against House Lannister. Even Tyrion Lannister himself had travelled to King's Landing with his new wife, Joanna Swyft, and a number of guards to dissuade anybody that still looked to have ill feelings from the war just gone. The Blackfish was there too, taking the place of Edmure who was officially still in mourning. Other notable people that Torrhen saw were Lord Loras and his wife and son, Lord Royce on behalf of the Vale, and even Prince Oberyn Martell. The Stark did his duty in speaking with as many people as he could, but by the time the ceremony began Torrhen took his place beside his wife and son and watched as the High Septon began the long and arduous process. He kept on staring proudly at Bran, who was standing beside his betrothed at the front of the crowd.

"In the Light of the Seven, I now proclaim Stannis of the House Baratheon, First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms." The crown that had once sat on King Robert's head was placed upon Stannis'. "Long may he reign!"

"Long may he reign!" Torrhen murmured, less enthusiastically than a large number of people in the room. He clapped along with everybody else as the room erupted in applause and Stannis stepped back to sit on the Iron Throne before the room began to move around and form the line that would go and swear fealty to the King.

Torrhen, as the eldest representative of House Stark, was thankfully early in the queue. When it came to his turn he bent the knee to Stannis and uttered the words. "Winterfell, Moat Cailin and the North is yours, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Lord Stark." Stannis said firmly. "I trust your Father is well?"

"He wishes that he could be here, Your Grace, but as you know the North requires his immediate attention." Torrhen explained.

"Of course. I would speak to you tomorrow about that." Stannis said, leaving no doubt that it would be an intense conversation. Torrhen bowed his agreement and moved off to the side, allowing Mira to bow to the new King with little Asher. Once that was done, Torrhen picked up his son and moved off to the side, sticking to the non-alcoholic drinks as he watched the party unfold.

"You look just about as miserable as I feel." He heard the voice of Tyrion approaching. Torrhen handed Asher to his mother before turning to face the Lannister. "And you were on the winning side of the war!"

Torrhen didn't smile. "King's Landing doesn't agree with my family. The sooner we leave, the happier I shall be."

"Yes." Tyrion looked around the room. "It happened here, didn't it."

It wasn't a question, and Torrhen knew exactly what Tyrion was talking about. "Father never speaks on it, but this room will always give me chills for as long as I live."

"Enough about the Mad King and his crimes, especially around young ears." Mira said firmly.

Torrhen smirked at her abrasiveness. "May I introduce my wife the Lady Mira, Lord Tyrion."

Mira offered the Imp her hand, and he duly kissed it. "My Lady."

"My Lord." Mira replied.

"And my son, Asher." Torrhen introduced.

Tyrion grinned. "I had heard that the Butcher of the Rock was a father, congratulations." Torrhen scowled at the name. "Hello Asher."

Asher just looked confused at the Lannister Lord. "Say hello." Mira urged.

"Hello." Asher said, before pushing his thumb in his mouth.

Tyrion laughed. "Delightful. This is my own new wife, Lady Joanna."

Joanna Swyft was an extremely thin woman and looked nervous to be there, although she curtseyed and greeted the pair kindly. "My Lord, My Lady."

"Lord Torrhen here is one of the main reasons I have half of my gold." Tyrion grinned, clearly enjoying his drinks. "I trust it is going to good use."

"Whenever you find the time to visit Moat Cailin, I'm sure you will find out." Torrhen explained. "Your gold has really helped with the build."

Tyrion snorted. "Quite right." He sighed. "Well, I should mingle with some more of these nobles that would rather have my head than my conversation. Take care, Torrhen Stark."

Torrhen bowed his head as the little man took his wife's hand and led her away, leaving Torrhen and Mira stood alone, slightly bemused. "He's so… jovial. Considering what's happened." Mira commented quietly.

"Inside he's screaming." Torrhen noted. "He wants most of the people in this room dead for what happened, himself included for betraying his own kin."

Mira shook her head sadly. "He had no choice."

"No, and he is living with the consequences." Torrhen said. He looked around and scoffed at the party that was beginning to grow. "These people, they have no idea what's coming."

Mira placed a free hand on Torrhen's chest. "We fight so that revelry like this can be had." She told him. "It's late and we have a long few months ahead of us, is there anybody else we have to speak to?"

"Only Bran. I should spend time with my brother." Torrhen told his wife. "If you want to take Asher to bed though…"

"No bed." Asher mumbled from Mira's arms. Torrhen grinned and took his son back.

"Very well, let us go and say hello to Uncle Bran." He told the toddler happily, moving over to the gallery where Bran was standing talking to Shireen about a book. "Bran." He said.

Bran looked annoyed, but his face lit up when he saw Torrhen. "Tor!" He exclaimed. "You're here!"

Torrhen grinned and set Asher down on the ground, allowing the toddler to stand on his own feet for a bit. "Of course I am." He smiled, hugging his brother. "I presume this is your betrothed?"

More introductions were had, and Torrhen actually found himself enjoying the occasion whilst stood on the gallery out of the crowd. He allowed Bran to get acquainted with Asher whilst he and Mira spoke with Shireen, hearing all about Dragonstone's history thanks to the young girls limited time anywhere else. By the end of the night Torrhen was content in the thought that his brother would have a happy marriage, but it was a sombre mood that he drifted off to sleep feeling, hoping that his words alone would be enough to stop the potential bloodshed between Jon and Bran's factions.