Chapter 28: Stone

Jon

Since King's Landing had fallen and he had been crowned king, Jon had been kept busy by various things. First of all there had been the issue of what to with the remaining Lannisters. Cersei Lannister had been executed for treason, Tyrion Lannister Jon had decided to keep alive and keep in King's Landing, of course as Casterly Rock now belonged to Torrhen Karstark, Tyrion could not become lord of the Rock and so instead Jon had made him master of coin, and Prince Tommem was being kept in King's Landing for the time being as a hostage to Tyrion's good behaviour. Next Jon had had to deal with his small council. Under Joffrey, the small council had been made up of largely Lannister cronies and supporters, that had all changed, Pycelle had hung himself during the storming, and so the Citadel was still debating as to whom to send to King's Landing as the Grand Maester though it was likely to be Gormon Tyrell. Varys, the spider who had helped Jon during the war- albeit indirectly- was retained as Master of Whispers, Ser Barristan of course was Jon's Lord Commander, Prince Oberyn Jon had decided to appoint as Master of Laws so that Dorne would be relatively happy and sated considering that the people responsible for Princess Elia and her children's deaths were all dead now, Master of ships was still vacant though Jon had a rough idea of whom he wished to appoint, should Theon be successful in reclaiming the Iron Islands from his uncle. Also as Robb was still in Riverrun recovering from his wounds, Jon had decided to name Jon Connington as his hand of the king, Connington was a proven loyalist and had fought amiably during the war, Jon had also made him Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and given back the lands King Robert had taken away from his cousin following the rebellion.

Jon had also then had to arrange on the advice of his small council the marriage of Dickon Tarly, now Lord of Horn Hill and warden of the south to Margaery Tyrell, wedding the strength of Highgarden to the loyalty of the Tarlys. There had been other matters that Jon had had to attend to, and through it all he had been impatient to get to the Vale to rescue Sansa from this Lord Baelish's clutches. When he had finally had enough of the capital and the small council he had decided to take some men with him and had marched for the Vale, he had sent Danaerys with the reachmen to deal with the Ironborn; he could only hope that his aunt would not make any foolish decisions, now that the kingdoms were theirs. He could only hope and pray.

The ride to the Vale had been long and tense for Jon, the snows were very, very deep and for brief stretches of time he wondered how things were looking at the Wall, and whether or not the Night's Watch were coping with the winter and the increasing threats from beyond the Wall. Of course most of the time his thoughts were solely on Sansa, and wondering how she was doing, he knew that she had been pregnant when she had been taken, and it was likely that she had given birth now, but all he wanted was her to be back in his arms and away from harm. He would deal with Lord Baelish most harshly, for daring to take Sansa away and if he had even touched her...

When the mountains of the moon came into site, Jon lost patience with keeping pace with the army below him and spurred Serrax on, and soon they found themselves landing right on the courtyard of the Eyrie, where months earlier Sansa had been brought after she had been kidnapped. Jon felt his blood begin to boil when he saw the courtyard, and he heard Serrax begin to growl as he dismounted. Men wearing the blue and grey of House Arryn came running out to see what was causing all the commotion and when they saw Jon and Serrax they drew their swords. Jon laughed and said, "I would not bother doing that good sers. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. Now where is Lord Baelish?"

The men looked at each other for a moment before running back inside and reappearing a minute later with Lord Baelish. Baelish had often featured in some of Aunt Catelyn's stories of her time in Riverrun; Jon knew that this man had challenged his uncle Brandon for his aunt's hand, and that he had loved aunt Catelyn. Jon also knew that this man had betrayed his uncle, Lord Eddard when his uncle had served as hand in King's Landing. Looking at the man, Jon thought that he did not seem so intimidating, he was a short man of slender build with grey green eyes and a small pointed beard, of course Jon noticed that he wore a calculated smile, as if he had been expecting Jon to come all this time. Jon felt his blood boiling.

Baelish spoke first. "Why your grace, this is a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jon felt his blood begin to over boil at the nerve of the man; he heard Ser Barristan and Ser Perwyn's footsteps as he answered. "I believe you have my wife Lord Baelish. I have come to bring her back home and away from you."

The man had the nerve to look shocked and even a little bit outraged at what Jon said. "Your Grace, I must say that that accusation is most unexpected. What is it that makes you think I have her grace Queen Sansa here?"

Behind him Serrax growled and unleashed a plume of smoke, Ghost growled and bared his teeth, Jon stared at Lord Baelish for a long moment then said. "Because those men who took her from Riverrun, they were Lannister men. Yet they did not take her to King's Landing and in fact, a little goat I spoke to told me you paid him to bring my wife here. Now why would he say that if it were not true?" As if to emphasise his point, Ghost advanced toward Baelish snarling.

A look of fear momentarily crossed Baelish's face before it quickly disappeared. He smiled a mocking smile and said. "Why your grace, you can never too trusting of anything a sellsword, for that is what the goat you speak of is. He could have lied to you. And why would I kidnap her grace, when I have been friends with her mother and am married to her aunt?"

Jon admitted the man had a point, but he could not hesitate now, not when he had the man frightened and cornered. Jon was silent for a moment and then replied. "Because, you could never marry Aunt Catelyn, and the Lannisters sent you here to the Eyrie to bring Lysa Arryn to their side, and because your man Lyn Corbray fought for the Lannisters alongside some 15,000 Valemen at the Trident. Now why would he do that unless instructed to do so? Now I will ask you one last time, where is my wife?"

Lord Baelish smirked, and was about to reply when a servant came running into the hall and whispered something into the man's ear, that caused him to look fearfully at Ghost, then Serrax and then finally Jon. Jon glared at Lord Baelish and said threateningly, "Where is my wife Baelish?" When Baelish did not answer, Jon whistled and Serrax let loose a plume of smoke, and Ghost pounced onto Baelish knocking the man to the ground.

Baelish let loose a terrified yelp and said hurriedly. "Alright, alright. She's in the Maiden's Tower. Please, don't hurt me I will serve you well, Your Grace I promise you."

Jon merely snorted and that and turned to Ser Barristan and Ser Perwyn. "Ser Barristan keep an eye on this man, Serrax will help you," Serrax fixed Baelish with a cold stare from his red eyes, rooting the man to the spot. Jon went on, "Ser Perwyn with me. Let us find my lady wife."

Jon simply ran through the castle toward the Maiden's Tower, Ghost at his side and Ser Perwyn on his heels. He stopped when he came to a room which had a door engraved with a crescent moon and falcon, from the other side of the door Jon could hear the faint sounds of a woman singing, the song was one Jon had not heard for many years, not since he was a child. He knew then who would be on the other side of the door, and felt his heart tense painfully, it had been so long. He took a deep breath and then pushed the door open. Ghost bounded into the room, causing one of the people in the room to scream in fear.

"Its alright Sweetrobin, it won't hurt you. Ghost to me." Jon had never been so relieved to hear his wife's voice, as he was in that moment.

He turned to find her sitting on one of the beds, with two bundles in her arms, Ghost sat at her feet. She looked up when he moved toward her a look of complete surprise on her face. "Sansa," he began.

She looked at him and then said, "Jon? It can't be. They told me you were dead!"

Jon looked at her then looked at the bundles in her arms. He swallowed nervously, and then said. "I'm not dead Sansa. I never died, I'm here. I've come to take you home."

Sansa looked at him once more then at the bundles in her arms, and said. "I'm so happy you came Jon. I was so scared when they told me you died. I didn't believe it though. Not for a moment. I would have known it, if you had. I would have felt it I'm sure."

Jon could merely nod his head, then he looked at the bundle in both her arms, and then looked at her again and cocked his eyebrow. She blushed and said, "Forgive me Your Grace, where are my manners. It would be my honour to introduce you to, your son Brandon," She raised her right arm, and through the blankets Jon saw a babe with dark brown hair and grey eyes looking at him. She then lowered her right arm, and raised her left. "And your daughter, Lyanna." His daughter had the Tully colouring, auburn hair and blue eyes. Jon felt something swell in his chest, and he felt his throat begin to constrict. He was looking at his children, his children, with Sansa.

He looked at her then and smiled and then asked. "May I hold one of them, my love."

Sansa smiled and gave him his son. He held his son in the crook of his arms, and was simply awed by how beautiful his son, his Brandon looked. He looked at Sansa and saw her looking at him then, and he managed to give her a smile, and said "He's beautiful. They're both so beautiful my love."

Sansa smiled back at him and then said, "Just like you, my love. I'm so happy your here. I got scared you wouldn't come and that'd I'd be left with Petyr all by myself."

Jon heard something in the tone of Sansa's voice that he did not like, but decided to say instead. "Of course I'd come. I'll always come, for you. Always." He turned with Brandon still in his arms and looked at a small boy who was curled up on one of the other beds, and asked, "Now whose this then?"

Jon could hear the smile in Sansa's voice when she said, "That's my cousin, Robert. Lord of the Vale."

Jon smiled at the boy and said, "Nice to meet you Robert. I'm Jon."

The boy- Robert- said nothing, merely nodded.

Later, once the children had been put to sleep, Jon was alone with Sansa in the room she had been living in during her time in the Vale. And he listened as she spoke about what had happened to her since she had been taken. He listened with growing anger as she told him about the way the Brave Companions had man handled her on their way to the Vale, and how Lord Baelish had abused her, how he had forced her to kiss him, and do other things for him. By the end of it Sansa was crying, Jon could feel his clothes becoming wet with her tears, from where her head was buried against his chest. He whispered soothing words into her hair and kissed her tears away, and then said. "I promise you Sansa, Baelish will never harm you again. He will never hurt anyone, ever again."

Sansa snivelled and said, "I'm just glad your okay Jon, I was so worried."

Jon gave her a smile and said, "I know love, I know. But I'm here now."

The next day, Lord Baelish was brought before Jon and some of the remaining Vale Lords, and his crimes- which were numerous- were read out, including treason, kidnapping and murder. Jon took some grim satisfaction in declaring that Lord Baelish was to be put to death, not through the Moon Door, though that was a tempting option, nor would Serrax roast the man alive, nor would he be executed, no Jon decided that Lord Baelish deserved to suffer for what he had done and therefore declared that the man was to be tortured, then hung, drawn and quartered.

Once that sentence had been passed, the remaining Lords of the Vale, pledged their fealty to him and Jon got ready to march back south with Sansa, and his children.

Dickon

Dickon Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill and Brightwater Keep, Warden of the South, and recently married to Margaery Tyrell, sat atop his horse in the snow and the cold and wished desperately that he was inside in the warmth next to a fire. Along with Princess Danaerys, he had been tasked with freeing the Reach from the Ironborn invaders by King Jon. And he was determined to do a good job of it.

They had marched south from King's Landing with a few thousand men and Danaerys rode on one of her dragons- he believed this one was called Rhaegal- they had received reports that the Ironborn were being led by Euron Greyjoy, a man with a fierce some reputation and a more than capable warrior. Though of course the reports they had received indicated that the Ironborn force itself had lost a great deal of men, during the fighting on the Mander, at least that was what the report which had come from Highgarden had indicated. Dickon also knew that an Ironborn force had taken Brightwater Keep and had been marching for Oldtown, though now they were likely marching up north to help Euron and his men.

It appeared that this was the case, as they spotted several hundred tents spread out around the fields surrounding Highgarden, all of them had as well as the various sigils from the Iron Islands, the crowned Kraken of House Greyjoy. A sharp breeze of wind went past Dickon and made him shiver. He remembered all the war councils that he had been a part of during the war. He remembered fighting at Lannisport and then being knighted by the King, and he remembered fighting at the Blue Fork when his father had been killed and he had become the Lord of Horn Hill. He remembered fighting at the Trident when the dragons had come. Out of all those fights and war councils he had been a part of he had never felt as nervous as he did now. He supposed it was because, that that was because this was the first true battle where he had sole command and as such everyone was looking to him- well everyone except Danaerys, but then again she was a Targaryen and that was to be expected- he knew that the plan he had concocted with Ser Garlan had to work, otherwise he would never live down the shame. He was a good fighter, he knew that, he had always been good with a sword, but his father had been a brilliant tactician and commander as well as being good with a sword, Dickon had never truly commanded anything before, he had always watched and listened when his father gave him military advice but that was completely different from leading in an actual battle. He had found that out at the Trident, to his peril.

He heard horns being blown, and drew Heartsbane from its sheath and said a quick prayer to the Warrior for strength, and then led the charge into battle. He hacked and slashed his way through the Ironborn defences, earning a few cuts and dents in his armour as a result. Mainly though it seemed that the Ironborn were not as disciplined as the other warriors he had fought during the war, for their strokes and thrusts were quite lax and clumsy and they fell easily to Heartsbane's sharp edge. He kept hacking and slashing until he had painted both the ground and his sword red, with Ironborn blood.

He kept hacking and slashing his way through the Ironborn ranks, bloodying his sword and the ground. Sparks were flying of off his sword, and his horse was neighing frequently and rapidly. The bloodlust was on him. He kept swinging his sword, cutting down opponents' right and left and centre, until there was no one standing in front of him. He turned his horse around and began the process once more, cutting, hacking and slashing at any man that came too close to his horse. He chanced a quick glance around the battlefield and saw that his men were coming out largely on top in the battle. The Ironborn appeared tired and lax in their defences and fighting and many of them were falling to the ground like flies. The snow covered ground was littered with dead bodies, and had been painted red.

Dickon turned his horse to where he saw a hub of activity. He found one big brute of an Ironborn wielding an axe like it was nothing more than a tooth pick, the man was bringing down men with relative ease. Dickon yelled at the man through his helm and swung Heartsbane at him, cutting him on the shoulder. The man grunted and swung his axe at Dickon, he missed Dickon but got Dickon's horse, burying his axe into Dickon's horse's neck, when he pulled out the horse began to fall down to the ground. Dickon managed to yank his feet out of the stirrups in time, and jumped out of his saddle and rolled into a ball on the ground when he felt the vibrations of his horse hitting the ground. He managed to get up and just about block the Ironborn's axe swing with the edge of his sword. Their weapons were locked together for a long moment, sparks began to fly of the weapons and they could be heard groaning along with the wind and their owners' harsh breaths. Eventually the weapons broke apart, only to meet each other once more in a screech of steel on steel, this time the contact was much longer and ended with Dickon being cut on the hand, blood began to pour out of the cut and became visible on his gauntlet. The wound was in such a place that it made it difficult to grip Heartsbane with both his hands. So he had to alternate, to lessen the pressure on the wound.

As a result he managed to knick and dents the Ironborn's armour in several places, but the Ironborn managed to knick and dent his armour as well, and it seemed to have much more of an effect. Soon the man managed to force Heartsbane from his hands, and forced Dickon to his knees. Dickon was preparing for the end when he heard, the sound of a horn being blown and a roar of a dragon, and then flames, orange and yellow flames became visible, Dickon could feel the heat of them through his armour, and he began to laugh.

Jon Connington

It had been seventeen years since he had last been in King's Landing. Back then he had been Hand of the King also, he had been younger and his hair had been less grey as well. He had been appointed Hand by Aerys, as the Mad King had wanted someone of an age with Robert to match the man's youth and vigour. Jon had been honoured by the appointment and wanted to use the opportunity to prove himself worthy of Rhaegar's love and respect, in short he wanted the glory of being the one to slay Robert Baratheon once and for all. Of course it had not gone to plan. The people of the Stoney Sept had hid Baratheon, had hid him until the combined forces of Eddard Stark and Hoster Tully had arrived to relieve him, then the rebels had fought back fiercely, and Robert had survived, Jon had only just managed to retreat to King's Landing with his life, but he was cowed, like a dog with his tail between his legs. Aerys had not looked favourably upon the course Jon had taken and so had exiled him and stripped him of his lands and titles.

That had been seventeen years ago, and since then Jon had served as a sellsword with the Golden Company and then he had spent twelve years raising a boy he had believed to be his silver prince's son, but of course the boy had not been his prince's son, no the boy had been an imposter. The boy had been called Aegon alright, but not Rhaegar's Aegon, no this Aegon had been the descendant of Aerion Brightflame a Targaryen but not the right one. He had been devastated when the boy had died, he had raised him like his own son, but then to find out that the boy had not been whom he had thought he had been all this time, had destroyed Jon, he would have given up then and there had the cheesemonger not told him that one of Rhaegar's sons did still actually live. He had been sceptical at first and who could blame him, but then the cheesemonger had gone onto tell him and Lady Lemore- Lady Ashara now, he supposed- about the Tower of Joy and the fighting that had gone on then, Ashara had confirmed that, but she had told him later that she had always thought that Aegon was actually Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon.

Jon of course had then agreed to help this son of Rhaegar's, for though the boy was the son of the wolf whore as well as Rhaegar's he was still Rhaegar's son and the boy needed Jon's help, and Jon wanted to help him to get the bells in his head to stop tolling. His and Ashara's first point of call had been to help the Lady Sansa escape; they had done that and had won the boy's favour. King Jon looked nothing like Rhaegar, he was all Stark, in fact he looked more like Eddard Stark, than Rhaegar Targaryen, but as Jon had come to know over the years, looks were not everything. There was something about the way King Jon carried himself that reminded Jon about his silver prince, there was some sort of melancholy about the king that was all Rhaegar. He was capable, that much was true, it was apparent that the boy was a born leader of men.

They had taken King's Landing, and then the king had proven himself once more, at least in Jon's eyes. He had spared Tommem Waters, and had decided to keep him in King's Landing as a hostage for the boy's uncle's good behaviour. He had kept Varys on the council, and had rewarded those who had been loyal to him throughout the campaign. Then had come the surprise for Jon, he had expected the King to name Lord Stark as hand of the king, considering the two had grown up together and were like brothers, but not the King had named him, Jon Connington as Hand of the King and Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Jon knew not what he had done to deserve such an honour, but he accepted it as humbly as he could, and began rather reluctantly the task of looking for a bride for himself. He would have preferred it if he could have simply remained celibate or marry Ashara, but he knew that if the Stormlands were ever going to be truly loyal to the King, he needed to marry someone from the Stormlands, Stannis Baratheon's daughter was too young, and would likely die from her greyscale, the one lady Jon had had a slight crush on when he had been a lad, had been married for seventeen years now and had had three children with her husband, though said husband had died in the war.

Jon found the prospect of finding a bride quite daunting and so decided to spend most of his time helping to run the realm. Something that had become especially important since the king had gone to the Vale to rescue his wife from the clutches of someone called Lord Baelish, whom Varys had informed him was a very, very devious man with a dark past when it came to the Starks. With the king away it had fallen to Jon to help manage the day to day running of the kingdom, make sure that the healing process after two years of war was carried out smoothly, and that any debts that the throne had were repaid off. It helped that Casterly Rock essentially belonged to the throne now, for Jon was able to use the vast amounts of gold and other such treasure that had been taken from the vaults of the Rock, to appease the Iron Bank and any other people that the Lannisters and Robert Baratheon had seen fit to borrow from over the years. The citadel had named Gormon Tyrell as the new grand maester, replacing Pycelle the man who had been in King's Landing since the days of Aegon the unlikely, but had forgotten his vows in his last few years, and had been a Lannister puppet. The man had killed himself whilst the storming of King's Landing had been going on around him.

The relatively good mood Jon had been in that day was ended when he read a letter that had come from Castle Black addressed to the king. It stated that a millennia old threat had returned and was threatening the Wall and the north, help was required urgently.

Bran

It was getting colder and colder. That much Bran could tell, from the ways the trees swayed outside, and the way Jojen was beginning to fade away right before his very eyes, the day of the crannog boy's death was fast approaching, and there was nothing Bran could do about it. Meera had become very, very withdrawn as Jojen's health had worsened, to such an extent that she hardly ever spoke to Bran anymore. Bran felt so lonely and so afraid and so guilty most of the time that he was not dreaming. It was because of him that Meera and Jojen had come north from Greywater Watch, it was because of him that they were here in the lands beyond the wall in the freezing cold and the snow, unable to return home safely for fear of being attacked by wights and White Walkers. Sometimes when things got really bad for Bran, he would think back to that day when he had climbed the broken tower in Winterfell and had been pushed, he was sure of that now- he never fell- if he had never climbed that tower, he would never have seen whatever it was that he was not supposed to see, and he would never have been pushed and his legs would have been broken, and he would not have had the dreams about the three eyed crow, and perhaps they would never have had to leave Winterfell.

Oftentimes though, other thoughts would come and combat those thoughts. Bran would sometimes think that an older more wiser version of himself would answer back to his guilt saying that, if he had never climbed that tower, then he would never have seen the three eyed crow, he would never have known about the Ironborn attack, and then they really would have been dead. He knew Rickon was safe, that he was with mother, he had seen it in a dream. He knew that Jon had taken King's Landing, he knew that Sansa had been kidnapped and then rescued, he knew all of this because he had climbed the tower, the older voice argued. The voice argued that it had been because of him that Jon had known where to look for Sansa, that because he was so linked with the trees and the animals that he had been able to guide Jon's conscious to where Sansa had been taken.

The older voice also argued that Bran still had a part to play in deciding the fate of the world. Bran often asked himself how, but the older voice would simply reply that he would know soon, and then he would have to make a decision. He had asked the three eyed crow about the older voice once or twice, and each time the three eyed crow had said that he had never had an "older voice" speak with him when he had been learning the ropes to his powers, but then the three eyed crow had gone onto reassure Bran by saying, that it was clearly just a sign of Bran's greater powers and how he was special that way. But Bran often found himself wanting to shout and scream at the Three Eyed Crow, at the Children and at the Older Voice that he was not special, he was just a boy, a broken boy, who was far from home and who was so scared that he sometimes wished for his mother and father.

Of course it did no good to voice such thoughts out loud, for the three eyed crow would not say anything, the older voice would merely chastise him and tell him to stop acting so childish and the Children would often leave him alone or make him eat more of the foul smelling paste. His thoughts changed suddenly, but he was used to the sudden change in thought process that he no longer got scared when it happened.

This time, he watched as a man wielding a sword of glass fought the walking dead. He watched as the dead fell one by one into their final death, but more kept coming and as more fell, they were replaced by more and more wights until the man with the sword of glass was overwhelmed as was eventually killed, torn limb from limb never to walk again. Then the vision altered and, a woman with silver hair and violet hair rode a green dragon, and burnt fields and men to ash, laughing all the while a mad glint in her eyes. He watched as a kraken with a kissing eye and a dark eye blew his horn and tamed the dragon and the girl, only to be burnt alive by the dragon that he had tried to tame. He watched as a red haired lady said word upon word in a foreign language, and created a shadow of fire that burnt through the krakens ships and burnt the men who lived on those ships. He watched as the dragon girl and the fire priestess sang together, they sang an ancient song, but it was not the song of ice and fire. No this was a song of fire, just fire, orange, yellow, black, red, it made not matter they sang a song of fire and out of their fire and ash, rose a creature so tall and so bathed in light Bran found it hard to see what the creature looked like. The woman and the dragon girl bowed before the creature of fire, and Bran watched unable to say anything though he knew what would happen next, as he watched the fire creature swallow the fire woman and the dragon girl whole, and then let loose a terrifying roar. The lands caught fire, and all the while the sounding of a woman's laughter rang throughout the vision. In his weirwood throne and in the vision Bran shivered, the laugh scared him it did not seem normal, it did not seem from this world.

The vision altered, and soon Bran found himself looking at the ground from a height. It took him a moment to realise he was flying! Not on the wings of a crow or a bird, no this animal was something much bigger, something much more primal and fierce than a bird, and it was heading north, toward him. Before the vision ended, Bran saw the wings of the animal, they were snow white, the creature let loose a pale gold shot of flame, and roared. The Dragon was of the north, and was coming home.