Return North
Dorne
Planky Town
Early 301 AC
As the sun sets over Planky Town Oberyn silently curses the northern winds for accelerating the arrival of Jon Snow's envoy. The ship had not been scheduled to arrive until tomorrow, but the strong northern winds had pushed the arrival to now.
Oberyn therefore had to wake earlier to make his way from Sunspear to Planky Town, but his paramour Ellaria had convinced him to stay at an inn in the port city for the night, along with both their daughters Dorea and Loreza, along with Obara who for some reason seems interested in the Stark bastard. Dorea and Loreza had hardly left the Water Gardens, as such this is a chance at showing them the estuary of the Greenblood and the grape plantations along the delta.
As he feels Ellaria's arms wrap around him from the back, Oberyn can't help his smile as she places a kiss on his cheek.
"Bold of him to openly fly the Stark banner." comments Ellaria as the ship comes into the port.
"The Lannisters should be quite preoccupied at the moment." replies Oberyn earning a noncommittal hum from her as she places another kiss on his neck.
Watching the ship disembark, Oberyn muses at the thought of meeting the young man again. Their previous meeting had been cut short and every piece of news that reached him of the North's clandestine assaults on the Lannisters and the Reach had simply inflamed his interest, especially when news of the Wild Hunt, Tarly's failed invasion into the Riverlands, and the Purple Wedding had reached him.
When a massive rectangular box is rolled from from the ship Dorea and Loreza rush to him excitedly.
"That's a really big box papa!" exclaims Loreza.
"It is, my dear. It is a gift from a friend" replies Oberyn as Ellaria hurriedly pulls the children to her before they can run towards the box.
"A gift?" asks Dorea as she and her sister struggle in Ellaria's grasp. "What's in it?"
"Really big beasts that eat disobedient children." she says, causing the children to calm down.
"Is that true papa?" asks Loreza with trembling lips while she warily looks towards the box as it is brought towards them.
Giving his paramour an amused glance, Oberyn answers "No darling, they are only big meanies in the box."
His answer earns him a glare from Ellaria as the children renew their effort to leave her grasp.
Taking pity on her, Oberyn reaches down and picks up Loreza before placing her on his shoulders.
"Can we pet the beasts papa?" asks Loreza.
"Unfortunately no. Your mother is right, the beast within is quite dangerous" replies Oberyn as he inclines his head to look at her.
"Fine." pouts Loreza as crosses her arms and stares forward.
Following her direction, Oberyn sees a young woman barely older than Jon Snow leading the procession from the ship. She wears loose black trousers tucked into black tall boots, a sleeveless black tunic, a white turban over her head, and a satchel around her waist.
Behind her is what appears to be her twin brother carrying a chest.
"Lord Oberyn, I am Hassan, envoy of Lord Commander Snow." greets the woman with a genial smile as she bows in greeting. "My Lord Commander wishes for me to convey to you that he deeply regrets not being here in person. Events in the North require his attention."
"It seems that my friend has been quite busy." says Oberyn as he looks towards the massive box as it shakes at the sound of Oberyn's voice.
"He has, and I bring gifts from him that he is sure you'll enjoy." she says before turning to Ellaria as his smile turns charming. "The Lord Commander also wishes me to convey that he will miss spending time with the most beautiful woman in Westeros." she says.
"Only Westeros?" asks Ellaria sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.
"The competition is very tough in Essos." replies the woman without a beat as Oberyn watches amused.
"What of the competition in Westeros?" asks Ellaria.
"Well, not everyone can handle motherhood as graciously as you, according to him." Hassan replies and they all laugh at his obvious jape.
"Can I pet the beasts?" cuts in Loreza, her patience no doubt having run out during their brief conversation.
"And who are these adorable troublemakers?" asks Hassan as she looks between Dorea and Loreza with an unreadable look in her eyes.
"We're not troublemakers." replies Loreza with a pout.
"Of course not." says Hassan before she turns to him once again while pulling out a parchment from her satchel and presenting it to him.
Intrigued, Oberyn takes the parchment and unrolls it, finding a letter listing who is within the box and what is within the chest before inviting him to the North should he be interested in the Others.
With a vicious smile on his face, Oberyn tucks the letter into his belt as he thinks of the horrors he will be submitting Clegane and the Lannister patriarch to.
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The North
White Harbor
Early 301 AC
The smell of the sea fills Aemon's nose as he looks into the horizon from the bow of the ship. The feel of the wind in his face, the chill of winter on his person and the sway of the ship upon the waves give him a sense of peace that he has not been able to have since arriving to this version of his world. Between the planning and executing of his plans, he had been filled with a purpose that he had lacked with his arrival on Paradis. It made his blood boil and chill at the same time and made him feel alive in ways that peace can never do. His time in slavery and further as Robb's right hand has made it near impossible for him to feel alive unless he is planning or putting plans into action. Unfortunately the Red Wedding has ruined the experience for him.
The Red Wedding. Just the thought of it chills him to his very core. It is one thing to know of it from one set of memories, but it's another matter entirely to see its result one day after its execution. One day too late to stop it. One day too late to save Robb, again.
The Red Wedding had never happened in his world. Robb had wanted to negotiate with the Freys, but his time in the Disputed Lands and the Stepstones had not only made him wary of men like Walder Frey, but had also taught him to never negotiate with them. It was better to remove such men personally or to place them in positions where they suffered "accidents". Between him, Roose Bolton, the Greatjon, and surprisingly enough Catelyn, Robb had been convinced to let him take care of the assault of the Twins. That had been the beginning of him taking the role of Robb's right hand and shadow. Any dishonorable action that was required to be done but couldn't be done by Robb was carried out by him.
They made quite the pair, him and Robb, the honorable King in the North and his blood soaked General. By the end of the war with the Lannisters their reputations had been such that many would rather face Robb on the battlefield as opposed to dealing with him in any capacity.
Despite appreciating his actions, Robb had not been able to look at him the same. Especially after the reckoning he had brought to the Lannisters for Arya's death at the hands of the Mountain and Vargo Hoat.
Unlike her son, Catelyn had been quiet in public but had endorsed him in private. That woman was feral when it came to the safety of her children and Arya's manner of death had broken something within her. It had broken something within them all.
Before he can delve further into such dark memories, Aemon feels his hand being tugged back and forth.
Looking down at the culprit, Aemon can't help the smile that comes to his face.
"You're the best companion I could ask for." Aemon says as he gently scratches Ghost behind his ears, prompting the direwolf to let go of his gloved hands and give the closest thing to a smile that a direwolf can give.
The habit had begun when Ghost was still a pup and it had been the direwolf's way to demand his attention. He would nibble at his sleeve or his gloved hand and gently tug his arm back and forth. The action had eventually evolved into Ghost's way of gently bringing him back from moments of darkness whenever he felt his emotional turmoil through their link.
Without him Aemon is sure that he would have broken psychologically already.
"Lord Commander." says an approaching voice, bringing him out of reverie.
"Yes, Hassan?" he asks
"According to the captain we will be arriving within a few hours." he says as he stops a step behind him.
"Very well, prepare for our departure and have Cregan join me on the docks as soon he can. Nothing is to remain on the ships. They will be turned over to House Manderly to be manned ." commands Aemon.
With a slight bow, Hassan leaves to carry out the order.
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As they anchor at White Harbor, Aemon makes his way off the ship, Ghost and Hassan following behind him faithfully, towards Wylis Manderly, son of Lord Wyman Manderly, who awaits them patiently.
"My Lord." greets Wylis with a slight bow, his moment stiff and slightly sluggish.
"You should be resting, Lord Manderly." replies Aemon as he gently threads his right hand through Ghost's fur.
"I am well enough to move about, Lord." replies Wylis before glancing behind Aemon. "We received a Raven from Winterfell telling us to expect a fleet and an army, but we did not expect this many men nor that many ships." observes the Lord.
Before Aemon can answer he briefly wargs into Ghost and for that split second his senses explode and his mind is filled with information. The experience ends as quickly as it started when Aemon returns to his own skin.
With a smile on his face, Aemon turns to face the man who approaches him.
"Lord Wylis, allow me to introduce you to the current Commander of the Company of the Rose, Cregan Snow." he says as Cregan bows to him and Wylis.
"You hired the Company of the Rose, my Lord?" asks Wylis skeptically.
Aemon can't fault him for his skepticism, sellswords are notoriously unworthy of trust and hiring one for the North would be seen as an offense by most, if not all, people of the North who take pride in their martial prowess.
The Company of the Rose however is not just any sellsword company, but one created by Cregan Snow with one purpose, to become a safe space for exiled people of the North, self inflicted or otherwise, and to amass strength until such a time the North regains its independence and a King of Winter for them to swear fealty to.
"No my lord, I have returned self-exiled men of the North to their proper home." corrects Aemon with a smirk.
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Wynafryd Manderly did not know what to expect from this Jon Snow when her grandfather announced that they would be hosting him and his new found army until they were ready to march to the Wall.
Whatever it is that she had subconsciously expected, this is certainly not it, she thinks to herself as she watches him greet her grandfather. She had heard many things of him, how he is comely, how much of a fearsome warrior he is, how great of a commander he is, or even how he wears a beautiful white plate armor with a crimson mantle over shoulder.
Jon Snow is not comely, those rumors were lies and Wynafryd cannot help but feel annoyed and resentful for being caught so unaware. That man is beautiful, any other term would feel like a disservice and even calling him beautiful feels unkind.
He possesses this unnatural grace that makes it seem as if he were gliding through the air as opposed to walking, and like most lords there is the obvious pride, but his pride seems tightly woven around and into him as if it were only natural and he would be incomplete without it. And his voice, she had never heard of any voice or accent like his before.
At its core it possesses a rough brogue, but also the lyrical smoothness of High Valyrian. It cannot possibly be natural, and Wynafryd is sure that he has had years to perfect his voice and accent before. Just listening to him speak feels amorous.
"Are we sure that this is Jon Snow?" whispers Wylla into her ears and shaking her from her reverie. "I don't see how that dour boy can turn into sex on legs." she adds.
"Wylla!" whispers Wynafryd harshly as she looks at her little sister with wide eyes.
"What?" responds the unashamed girl. "You were thinking it too." she says. "The Jon Snow I remember is dour. Pretty? Yes, but dour all the same. He would never have the balls to speak to grandfather so. Look at him."
And look Wynafryd did. She observes him beyond what she can see on the surface and what she sees troubles her some.
Despite sitting in her grandfather's solar as a guest Wynafryd gets the sense that they themselves are the guests. Leaning back into the chair with one leg laying over the other, Jon Snow looks more like the King himself as opposed to his regent, a position that the Lords did not even have a say in before he named himself so with the unanimous approval of every Lord that had followed King Robb south.
It sets a dangerous precedent and Wynafryd is not sure if the lords themselves had noticed. So blinded they are by their gratitude and his halo of power that none of them thought to question whether or not it would be wise to hand the power of the North and the Riverlands to him and whether he would even willingly give it up once his brother came of age.
Already he has made a questionable decision with the bypassing of his brother Bran in favor of Rickon for the throne, increasing the years of his regency by almost twofold. And now he arrives in the North with a fleet carrying 30,000 professional and battle hardened soldiers and their families who are all clearly loyal to him alone, making him the most powerful man in the North without even factoring his spies and assassins.
He may claim to be Jon Snow, and he most likely is for no matter how pretty or beautiful he looks the core features of Jon Snow are still there, but that does not mean that they can completely trust him. He may be a Jon Snow, but he is not their Jon Snow.
Their Jon Snow is currently at the Wall facing Wildlings and White Walkers, not sitting here with more power than any other man in Westeros.
As they watch him exit the room along with the sellsword commander and his direwolf, her grandfather turns to them.
"Well? What do you think?" he asks.
"He is more dangerous than Tywin Lannister or any other man in the past hundred or so years." Wynafryd responds without missing a beat.
"Isn't that a bit much?" asks Wylla. "Surely he can't be worse than Tywin." she says.
"Perhaps not worse, but more dangerous." says their father.
"Tywin may be cruel and above average in terms of intellect, but that is all. The Rains of Castamere does more to deter Tywin's enemies than Tywin himself, and that victory cannot be attributed to Tywin's intellect, but his cruelty and disregard for the lives of women and children. The sack of King's Landing was nothing but treason on his part, and the Red Wedding was a desecration of Westeros' most sacred tradition." says Wyman.
"It is as Wynafred says, that man is more dangerous than Tywin Lannister. Within eight moons he not only bankrupted the Lannisters, but also turned their bannermen against them. Even here in the North we have received news of the power struggle within the Lannister household while they try to stave off the growing Tyrells." adds Wyman before he looks at the stack of books that was left there by the man they speak of.
"What are those?" asks Wylla as she looks at the massive stack of books on their grandfather's desk, for like her sister she had not paid much attention to the conversation and was studying the man instead.
"Those books contain every advancement that the North accomplished in his world. From different ship designs to discoveries about the body and its health and even military tactics." explains Wylis.
"And he just willingly gave them up?" asks a skeptical Wynafryd.
"No doubt those are the basics and the truly advanced books will be stored within Winterfell's library." says Wyman.
Wynafryd can't help but agree with that assessment while still applauding the man. It may only be the basics, but it would save the North years of research and trial and error. Perhaps she has misjudged him and he is more like the Jon Snow they know then she thought.
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Author's Note: We're finally to the North. I hope that the arc doesn't feel like a drag. Is it too long, should I speed it up and give less details/events, or is the current pace good? Tell me what you guys think. Also, for you guys wondering when he'll use the super-soldier serum, don't worry, the time is coming up soon. I have a plan for it.