Chapter 52: Dragonrider

The Small Council was done for the day, and Bran was on his way to the gardens for a walk with Shireen. As he made his way there he thought back on the council. The King seemed to value his opinion strangely and so he was often asked about the affairs of the realm, especially when it came to the North. Thankfully, Wyman Manderly was there to guide Bran in the matters of his homeland, and the overweight Lord was a proud supporter of the young Stark's.

Since Stannis' coronation only two changes had been made to the Small Council. With Stannis taking up the mantle as King, the role of the Hand was filled by his trusted advisor Ser Davos Seaworth, the smuggler turned landed knight. Unfortunately for Bran that meant that it was even more important for Matthos to be away from King's Landing as he ran Rain House, as well as spending time with his new wife. That appointment had left the role of Master of Ships available, and Stannis had picked the heir to Oldtown for that role, Ser Baelor Hightower. Ser Baelor was a handsome man that had been instrumental in the war against the Lannister's after Lord Randyll Tarly's death and Bran thought that he was a good appointment.

As his thoughts on Ser Baelor ended the 14-year-old Stark noticed he was coming to the gardens, and in the distance he saw Shireen playing with Summer, Ser Perwyn Frey was standing guard. Bran walked over to them with a smile. "Princess."

Shireen looked over at him and beamed. "Bran! You're finally out." She exclaimed. "How was it?"

"Dull as ever, Princess." Bran explained coyly. "How has your morning been?"

Shireen grinned. "I finally got the Maester to talk about Lyonel Baratheon."

Bran chuckled. Every few weeks Shireen would have a new obsession with history and would encourage her tutors to tailor her lessons around it. "And what did you find?"

"That Ser Duncan the Tall must have been quite the knight." Shireen shrugged. "But he still sounded brilliant." She offered out her hand for Bran to take, which he duly did as they started walking around the gardens, with Summer and Ser Perwyn behind them. "Father spoke to me last night… he mentioned how you were thinking about your own sigil."

Bran was a little surprised, but he nodded. "I can't use my Father's all my life, and Torrhen has his own one for Moat Cailin. I am the Lord of Dragonstone thanks to my betrothal to you, I should have one that reflects that."

"Maybe it should be a grey dragon." Shireen giggled.

Bran didn't really see the funny side. "I wouldn't disrespect your family like that." He said softly. "But I thought… I could honour them. Have a full bodied direwolf unlike my family and have it in the colours of House Baratheon." He felt Shireen stop and unwillingly pull back on his hand, and so Bran stopped and turned around to see tears forming in her eyes. Bran's eyes went wide in horror as he felt like he had offended her. "I don't have to… I mean… if you don't want me to…"

"That's really lovely." Shireen whispered, throwing her hands around Bran's neck and pressing her lips to his. Bran just stood there in a daze, allowing the kiss to happen. A loud cough from behind them broke the two young teenagers apart as Ser Perwyn made sure they stayed respectful, but Bran didn't care as a grin forced its way onto his face. They began walking again in a comfortable silence until Shireen asked. "Could I make it for you?"

Bran nodded. "I would like that." He told her. "I would like that a lot."

After a couple of days in Meereen Torrhen felt that the novelty had worn off. The heat was even more unbearable than he remembered, and it was a struggle to sleep. Asher hated it too and the toddler was extremely grumpy most days, only Balerion seemed to calm the child down.

Mira seemed to be enjoying herself enough though, whilst Jon and Torrhen had been sparring the last couple of days the Lady of the Causeway had taken to speaking with Daenerys, and they had bonded over both their pasts with Torrhen and Mira's older brother Asher, who's death Daenerys was sat to discover.

The married Northerners were expecting Targaryen company at noon on the second day, and Torrhen was currently shirtless waiting for Mira to finish with her hair. His own shirt was placed on the bed, but he looked at the item of clothing with disdain.

"It's too hot for it." He argued like a petulant child again. "I can go without…"

"Don't use that argument again, Torrhen." Mira rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Yes everybody here has seen a version of you shirtless, but these are official talks on behalf of your Father, you will not negotiate with your hairy nipples hanging out."

Torrhen pouted, but the expression didn't last long as he snorted in amusement and snatched up the grey silk fabric. "Hairy nipples?" He asked, pulling it over his head.

Mira grinned as she put the final pin in her hair. "You heard me." She said, standing up and walking over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Now come on, we're expected in the Apex."

Torrhen nodded and pulled himself off the bed, falling into place as he walked with his wife up to Daenerys' chamber. Grey Worm let them inside, and Torrhen saw Jon and Dany sat down together, holding hands gently on the table. Missandei introduced them and the pair broke apart, with Jon standing and offering them both seats and wine. Torrhen refused his glass, wanting to speak with a clear head.

"So." Daenerys said when they were all settled. "We are all friends here I know, but there are those in important positions over the Narrow Sea that aren't quite so friendly. I would be foolish to drop everything in Meereen to travel across if it means my execution."

"Lord Stark would never let that happen." Mira explained.

Torrhen agreed with his wife. "He wouldn't, you know this Jon."

Jon did. "But Stannis Baratheon might." He countered. "We need to know that we won't be arrested as soon as we reach the North."

"Stannis doesn't know about you." Torrhen told his cousin. "But he will need you. Your dragons alone will be the tide that turns the coming war into our favour, I know it and Father knows it. We will not let Stannis murder either of you, I swear it."

"And if he tries to?" Dany asked, an eyebrow raised.

Torrhen looked at his wife, who just nodded her head. "If he tries it, then the North will not stand with him." He said quietly, as if Varys wasn't on their side now. "White Harbour is strong, and we have ships on either side of the continent. Moat Cailin is even stronger. He can try and take you, he won't."

He let the declaration settle in both Jon and Daenerys' minds. The topic of handing over Jon had been a debate that had run long into the night back in Winterfell. Jon seemed to immediately realise the effects of such an action. "Bran." He simply stated.

"Is our bargaining chip." Mira told them both. "Without Bran, the Baratheon name will likely die out. Neither of you know Renly Baratheon, and none of you know him as well as I did when I served Lady Margaery. They may have been married for years, but I cannot imagine that Lady Margaery is any less of a virgin now than she was before her wedding."

"And Stannis isn't having any more children." Torrhen added. "Of course there might be pushback from Stannis and Bran may be in danger, but he can handle himself, Jon, and we have allies in the Capital ready just in case."

"The last 5 years have been planned out beyond anything you can imagine." Mira said. "We have contingencies in place."

Dany looked impressed. "The other world really gave you this much foresight?"

"No." Torrhen said simply. "The Green Men did."

Jon perked up at that. "I remember you going there. You said it was to help control your visions…" He scoffed. "But you had no visions, you were remembering the future."

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, I needed to go there to set us on this path that we are on right now, Jojen Reed confirmed it. He also told me about an old prophecy, the Prince Who was Promised. I never heard it last time, but this time Jojen said that he saw a grey dragon in the same vision as the Prince." He saw Jon pale. "Now I don't know what that means, all I do know is that you are important somehow, Jon, and you need to be there at the end, fighting the White Walkers."

"And we will be." Dany said firmly, placing a hand on Jon's. "So long as Stannis Baratheon agrees to a parlay with us. We have no quarrel with him, not this time at least, and so long as he agrees to every single one of our conditions then we will bend the knee like good little subjects and live our lives in peace."

That took Torrhen massively by surprise. "You're willing to bend the knee?" He asked.

Dany grinned. "It's funny. The last time we were here you swore that you would never bend the knee to me, even after I threatened to have you killed multiple times."

Torrhen smirked at the reminder and shrugged. "I never believed you'd do it."

"And now we are here, willing to be two subjects so long as we can live in peace." Dany said calmly. "I ruled Westeros for almost 5 decades, Torrhen. I've ruled long enough. If Stannis Baratheon gives us Dragonstone and an apology for the years his brother spent hunting us down as children, then yes I will bend the knee."

"And I have never wanted it, you know that." Jon said honestly. "I was brought up a bastard, I don't want to be a King."

"Let you live in peace and you'll bend the knee." Torrhen surmised. "I shall have to let Father know, it may take a while for us to get a response."

Dany nodded. "You are always welcome to stay here for as long as you need, you know this."

Torrhen did, and he stood up with Mira following suit and bowed his head at the two Targaryen's. "I shall get this letter away quickly. Thank you for this." He said honestly. Mira bid her goodbyes as well, and ten minutes later they were in their apartments again.

"Do you believe them?" Mira asked. "Do they really want peace?"

Torrhen thought for a moment, but he nodded. "Dany was right, the last time we were both two monarchs who had lost everything but the right to rule our people. This time, we have everything we need. I don't need Winterfell as I have you and Asher, and Dany has Jon." He nodded more firmly as he began to put ink to parchment. "Aye, I believe them."

The politics at Castle Black were just as infuriating as they had been in King's Landing, Jaime Lannister felt. After the Wildling Migration the leaders of the Night's Watch all unanimously agreed that decisions like that shouldn't be forced upon them again and set out to elect the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, with Ser Alliser Thorne being the overwhelming victor. The atmosphere at Castle Black quickly changed after that, with Victarion Greyjoy being quickly sent over to Eastwatch. That had annoyed Jaime massively, but he got on with it and did his duties.

Jaime had been chosen as the official Master at Arms of Castle Black, and he hated every minute of it. The council meetings were dull and focused on defending the southern part of the castle rather than the actual Wall, something that despite every argument Jaime could think of to push their focus back to the White Walkers and the North, he couldn't get Thorne's mind to change.

Outside of the council meetings though, Jaime and a small group of outsiders to Thorne's command had noticed some odd happenings. Pypar, the young steward, had noticed whisperings in the kitchens between Thorne and the senior members of the castle. Grenn, a ranger that had been assigned a role in the smithy because of his dislike for Thorne, had told the Lannister knight about Donal Noye complaining about being forced to make an overabundance of new weapons. Even the fact that they had now begun sending scouting parties into the Gift. There was nothing overwhelming that made Jaime think that something was wrong, but the small things that made no sense kept adding up.

As he was gathering the blades from a training session with the new recruits, Jaime noticed Grenn and the blacksmith Donal Noye in a hushed argument as they both walked over towards him. Jaime placed the blades down and prepared himself as their debate came into earshot.

"You're being paranoid over nothing, boy. Why are we dragging this to the Kingslayer?" Noye was whispering harshly.

"He's the only one that can do something about it!" Grenn countered.

"Do something about what?" Jaime asked, quickly ending the hushed debate about him. "What's going on, Grenn?"

Grenn looked pointedly at the blacksmith. "Tell him!"

"Alright fine, you damn aurochs." Donal Noye muttered grumpily. He turned to Jaime and snarled. "I don't like you, Kingslayer. I knew Robert Baratheon from when he was a boy, and you betrayed him to lay with your own sister. That may be forgiven by most, but never by me."

"Donal…" Grenn pleaded.

"I'm getting to it!" The grumpy old one-armed mad cried out, frustrated. "I got another order today, a big one. For a lot of steel."

Jaime sighed. "More swords? We'll have 4 for every man at this rate."

"No, that's the thing." Donal explained. "They also wanted me to make portable scorpions like the ones on the Wall. Ones with wheels."

Jaime ran it through his mind. "He wants us to go on the offensive."

"Aye." Noye stated. "But the tips are to be steel, not Dragonglass."

"There was a scouting party that came back yesterday." Grenn explained. "One of them said they saw giants at the new borders."

There it was. "He's looking southwards." Jaime whispered. "Shit… this isn't good."

"I can't not make them." Donal stated. "It was a direct order."

Jaime understood that as his mind began to race. "We need to find out what Thorne is planning exactly." He surmised. "I can't believe he'd be so mad to just attack the Wildling's when Lord Stark had strict instructions that they are simply here to aid us against the Walkers."

"So what are we to do?" Grenn asked.

Jaime turned away and thought for a moment. "I'll send a letter to Winterfell, with any luck Tarly is there already and can explain the situation here. Noye, build the weapons but slowly. We need to delay Thorne for as long as we can."

Noye held up his maimed arm. "Not a problem." He said dryly.

"And Grenn, start gathering men that are not loyal to Thorne." Jaime said quietly, looking around at the busy courtyard. "Start with the men of the West, use this." He pulled off his gloves and a Lannister ring, and handed the latter to Grenn. "If what we fear is coming, then we will need all the men we can get to stop it."

Ned Stark sat in his solar with Maester Luwin as together they began wording their letter to Stannis upon Torrhen's request. His son's letter was placed on the table in front of him, and Ned kept glancing at the words as the realisation that everything was starting to come to a head was sinking in.

"We should make it seem like a request only." Luwin was explaining. "Telling His Grace too much of how we have plotted behind his back will only rile him up."

Ned nodded. "Aye, but I will need to explain it all to the King if he agrees to meet."

"It should be in a neutral location, Harrenhal perhaps." Luwin suggested.

Ned hated that idea. He hadn't returned to that cursed place since the tourney and he had no intentions of ever going back there. He should have noticed Lyanna sneaking off at night, but he was either wilfully ignorant because of her betrothal to his best friend, or the more likely reason was he just hadn't been a good brother to her, and he hadn't bothered to keep an eye on her. Before he could get upset Ned knew that he had to respond. "Not Harrenhal." He muttered firmly. "Suggest Moat Cailin. It will be finished by then and the King should see the location of our final stand before we fight there." And silently, Ned hoped that the sight of the long-standing fortress being rebuilt into a truly monstrous barrier to separate North from South would deter him from any militant action against Jon. "Push the narrative that Bran could see his home again, even for a short period of time." On second thoughts however, he said. "Ignore that. The letter should be simply about Moat Cailin. If he knows about the Targaryen then he will have his guard up, ask him to inspect the castle and to lay down battle plans, ask him to allow Bran a visit home, and then when he is here I can explain it all."

Luwin looked uncertainly at Ned. "Are you sure it is wise to lie to him?"

"It isn't lying." Ned explained, but he wasn't sure if he was telling Luwin or himself. "This is a valid reason for him to come to the North, one that needs doing in truth. We can cross the Targaryen bridge when they arrive." Luwin nodded, though his eyes still showed huge uncertainty. He wrote out the letter however and showed it to Ned to look over, and Ned nodded, stamping it with his seal. "Get this sent out immediately." Ned commanded, but as soon as he finished speaking the guard outside rapped on the door.

"A Brother of the Night's Watch here to see you, Lord Stark." He said. "Claims he knows your sons."

That confused Ned. "Send him in." He ordered, and the door opened to reveal a slightly large man with mop hair and a thin bears.

"Lord Stark." The man bowed awkwardly. "You won't know me, but…"

"Samwell Tarly." Ned named him. "I'm glad to meet you."

Sam looked extremely confused. "You… you do know me?"

"Only by reputation." Ned said, gesturing to a spare seat for the young man to take. "I'm told you're more clever than anybody my son has met."

The disowned Tarly blushed. "I didn't know for sure if anybody actually remembered… I mean I had hoped of course, but to hear that is nice." He rambled, before his brow furrowed. "Who does remember, if you don't mind my asking?"

Ned chuckled lightly. "Torrhen and his wife, Mira. You, clearly. Olenna Tyrell was a surprise, as was Daenerys Targaryen. And Mance Rayder remembers too."

Sam's mouth gaped in an 'O' shape. "That's why it was so easy to convince the Wildlings to move south." He surmised. "And, excuse me, but Her Grace… I mean… Daenerys Targaryen?"

Ned nodded. "Torrhen and Mira are with her as we speak."

Sam smiled fondly. "I am glad to hear that." His smile dropped quickly, however. "I know how this may look, but I haven't been sent here by Lord Commander Thorne."

Ned hitched his breath. "You're not a deserter though?" He asked slowly and hopefully.

"No!" Sam protested quickly. "No, no I swear that I am not. It's a bit of a long tale…"

"We have time." Ned said calmly.

Sam gulped and nodded. "I was with the ranging party of Lord Commander Mormont you see when we were attacked at the Fist of the First Men. Of course this had already happened for me, so I knew what to do and where to go. We got back to Craster's Keep and the place was abandoned you see, but the mutiny." He paused to choke back a sob. "The Lord Commander was still killed, and I suppose the mutineers are still out there somewhere. I just ran back to the Wall to find out what happened in the War and I met Jaime Lannister. He took me into his little group as we saw the entire hierarchy of Castle Black shift into one that detested Wildlings above all else, and with that came a hatred of you. Ser Jaime, Victarion Greyjoy and I all knew that was wrong, and because Ser Jaime voiced his opinion openly at meetings, our group got separated. Greyjoy is now at Eastwatch, and with Maester Aemon passing I've been sent to Oldtown to gain my chain, although in reality it's to separate us all.

Luwin looked downcast. "I am sorry to hear that about Aemon, he was a fine scholar."

"And a fine man as well." Ned added, knowing his histories. "So why are you here at Winterfell, Sam?"

Sam gulped. "Well, I had hoped… you see I've spent my time at the Citadel, even if it wasn't here. I made my chain long ago and I still have all my memories of it. I served the Queen for her entire reign and King Aemon afterwards until I died there… I don't really need to go to Oldtown, so I thought I could… help out here?" His voice went high at the question. Ned looked at Luwin, and Sam seemed to realise there was another person in the room. "I mean… urm…"

"Sam, he knows." Ned explained to calm the boy down. He turned to Luwin and asked. "Is there anything that can be done? We don't want to reveal the branching realities to the Maesters after all."

Luwin pondered for a moment. "They are aware of the coming threats in Oldtown. I shall send a raven explaining that the Castle Black Maester should not be the other end of the realm and put in a request to teach Samwell all I know to start him off on his chain, to be completed after a potential victory."

Sam brightened up at hearing that. "Thank you!"

"You may have had all the knowledge, but to me you are still a student." Luwin explained calmly. "We'll go through the regular learnings of the Maester's, tailored to what we will need to fight the Walkers of course to keep up appearances."

"I'll be a delightful student." Sam grinned. "Thank you, Maester. Lord Stark."

Ned nodded. "Follow Luwin to the Maester's tower, we will find you accommodation there." He explained. Both Sam and Luwin got to their feet and bowed, departing the room and leaving Ned alone. Scoffing in amusement, Ned filled up his ale mug and took a swig. One day he truly hoped that his life may be relatively normal again.

Ghost had appeared back in Meereen not long after the letter had been sent, but it was a few weeks into their stay in Meereen until the dragons were spotted. Torrhen and Mira were stood on the balcony of Daenerys' apex whilst Jon was training some men and Dany was dealing with the matters of ruling, when a familiar screech pierced the air. Torrhen grinned as Mira winced at the noise and hid behind the barrier.

"I've been waiting for this moment." He smirked at her, offering his hand to help her back to her feet. Mira stood up unhappily and flattened her dress.

"How can you stay so calm? What was that?" She asked him.

Torrhen peered into the horizon to spot the source of the noise, and sure enough coming from the north he saw a speck in the sky, which grew and grew as it visibly became a dragon. "There." He pointed.

"It's Rhaegal." Jon's voice came from behind them. Jon moved to stand beside Torrhen as they waited for the dragon to approach. "I can feel it, here." He pointed to his temple.

"Similar to how you connect to Ghost?" Torrhen asked, wondering if the dragon connection was anything like warging.

Jon shook his head. "Not quite, I can't warg into Rhaegal, and even then with Ghost I almost have to initiate it. With Rhaegal the connection is just there, I know his moods." He looked at the appearing dragon. "He's excited, he's ready."

"Ready for what?" Mira asked.

Jon just smirked. "You might want to stand back." He told them. Torrhen grabbed Mira's hand again and pulled her back into the doorway leading back into the pyramid, and they watched on as Rhaegal, who looked to be the size of one of the mammoths that Torrhen had seen North of the Wall, perched awkwardly on the stone and began to nuzzle Jon. "Hey boy." Jon whispered quietly. "Are you sure?" The green and bronze dragon just gestured to his back, and so Jon climbed up onto Rhaegal, settling himself down in between the back spikes.

Mira looked horrified. "Jon…" She began.

"It's ok." Torrhen interrupted his wife, a grin on his face. "Good luck!" He called to Jon.

Jon smirked as he gripped onto one of Rhaegal's spikes. He looked at the back of the dragon's skull determinedly and he spoke firmly in Valyrian. "Fly."

Rhaegal stood upright and flapped his wings, sending a huge gust of wind in the direction of Torrhen and Mira. Torrhen moved to protect his wife from it and could barely see as Rhaegal launched himself into the air with Jon on his back. Once the dragon made wind died down Torrhen rushed to the edge of the barrier to stare out at the retreating dragon, who was roaring loudly and veering across the city. "Amazing." The Stark whispered, truly in awe at the sight of Jon riding a dragon.