69

Chapter Text

6 months later

It was a balmy night in Gondor; an autumn wind was beginning to blow, shrouding the city in a thick mist. At that moment, Jon was quietly smoking in a cool bath, enjoying the reprieve from ruling.

Isildur, Anárion and Elendur had departed for their respective Cities on the twenty-fifth of Narvinyë once they were confident the affairs of the City were in order. He was grateful for the trust they both placed in him by entrusting him with the capital of their Kingdom though Jon wished they would both stay a little longer… But they were Kings in their own right, and a King's duty is always to his people more than to his friends… or family.

Taking up the mantle of a ruler was a rather queer business, but after some time, he had taken to it like a dwarf to the forge, yet it wasn't without its perils nor hardship.

After his Lords departed Osgiliath, Jon had endeavoured to venture out into the City and its surrounding lands to better acquaint himself with the Southern Kingdom and his own lands.

In this way, he had come to know the fields of Lord Calcamacil, the ports of Lord Earendur, the meadows of Lord Cemender.

Some days after his coronation, he had set about. Forging things of great beauty thrice forged spears and valiant swords and suits of plate that shone like silver in the firelight, much to the delight of the Lords of Gondor, especially Lord Calmacil whom he gave a fine shirt of gilded mail and great broad-headed mace.

He then endeavoured to make the City fairer than it had ever been, filling it with many trees and fountains indeed, the houses were filled with men and women and the laughter of children, and no window was blind nor any courtyard empty.

Indeed many whispered that under his Rulership, Osgiliath would become a city of such splendour that it would rival fair Andúnië, though this was a mere fairy tale if one would bother to ask his opinion of the subject and they wouldn't, though he was mighty in the arts of smithing Jon doubted he could rival the beauty of the fairest City in Númenor.

And then there were the treasures Jon kept held in reverence by the Lords of Osgiliath, such as Ghal-maraz, his cloak of dragonhide and the dragon horn.

Yet it was the ancient treasures of Beleriand that filled the Lords of Osgiliath with wonder and desire.

His sword Ringil, The Helm of Hador and Fingolfin's shield.

Such treasures mystified the Gondorians

Dramborleg remained in possession of Rhaenys, which aroused the envy of some soldiers as well as many nobles as they did not believe that such a weapon should be in the hands of a woman, although his beloved sister would not be parted from the Axe as many foolhardy soldiers soon found out.

However, he had taken great pains to conceal Narya, Anguirel and Lord Ulmo's conch as he did wish for his subjects to know he possessed an object that could summon one of the Ainur.

And lastly, the corslet of Khazad-silver that Jon received from King Durin himself was likewise the fascination and envy of many, even more so after he revealed to them that the King of Khazad-dûm himself forged it.

However, he felt that something was missing... Something that was truly his as many of the fantastical objects he had collected were merely gifts, perhaps a suit of armour.

Yes, armour, that was a splendid idea... Although considering his new duties, it will take time to forge it; besides that, Jon had not forgotten his oath to learn Ósowë and had spent many a long night pouring over Enerdhil's notes, yet he had made little progress it was indeed a complex skill that couldn't be grasped in a few short months.

And while he truly felt at home among the soldiers and mariners, Jon couldn't spend his days wandering the Southern Kingdom and thought it best to devote his talents towards strengthening the fleet of Osgiliath.

Indeed the fleets of Osgiliath were relatively small, with many being smaller cogs and galleys hardly a mighty armada when compared to the great carracks and galleons of Pelargir.

However, although there were few ships for the battle, Jon had to admit that they were all imposing. These warships, few though they were, were the mightiest fleet in the known world.

"If the Numenoreans resolved to invade Westeros, not even the Ironborn or Redwyne fleets could stand against them," Jon conceded proudly.

But glorifying and raising such a fleet... It will take time and gold, which brings you to the second big problem, Osgiliath was the wealthiest city in Middle-Earth perhaps the world, but the gathering of such provisions and funds would take many more months, and though he might petition his fellow Lords, he knew such generosity must be rewarded.

Truthfully he knew what it was they would ask of him Sansa or Arya marrying into their house or perhaps himself.

The mere thought filled him with many unpleasant thoughts.

"Aah... If only Lalwen were here..." He lamented before slipping into a warm bath, recalling his beloved's healing touch, oh how it filled him with a wondrous pleasure that eased his weariness.

The last six months since taking up the reigns of rulership were the most exhausting of his life; the young Targaryen never believed ruling was so burdensome.

Having to listen to many Lord's grumbling about this and that problem... As well as permissions to expand their domains or concessions on trade tariffs.

It's all been unbearable... Jon began to believe that King Elendil was still punishing him for abiding in Khazad-Dûm and revealing Vhagar before he deemed it wise.

Indeed the sole reason he hadn't been consumed by the burdens of governing was the aid of his grandmother and Azrubên, who seemed delighted with him so far.

Even the old Steward warmed up to him. Indeed, Jon felt that the apprehension and wariness of the Steward was fading day by day, and it seemed that the aged man truly desired for his reign to be blessed and prosperous.

Nonetheless, Jon now scarcely had time for himself...his Lady loves had pursued him tirelessly. Though he was all too eager to heap them with adoration, the ruling of the City came first often times he would attend the council meetings clearly dishevelled whether a button on his jerkin might be missing or his cloak clasped wrong Jon suspected that his grandmother and Azrubên knew but if they did neither had said.

Once more, his thoughts turned to Lawlen. He knew his beloved would be happy to pamper him and aid him in whatever he desired; alas, she and his dearest Galadriel will remain in Edhellond until his beloved star appoints a competent castellan which will likely take many months as she had been absent from the City for years beyond counting.

Then both of them will come to live in Osgiliath... With him, the beautiful elves of the House of Finwë will someday take their place at his side... it filled him with a sense of longing to hear their sweet voices and play with their golden tresses.

Jon longed to share a bed with Lady Loves, and Lalwen and Galadriel will be no exception.

Undoubtedly, his Star of the West had yearned to share her bed with another woman, and Jon had a mind of who she intended to claim as her own.

For an Elf of such bearing, his beloved Star was certainly as bawdy as any wench he had met in Westeros, but thoughts of their passion would have to wait as he still had one place to see.

 The Hills of Emyn Arnen.

They may not be as remarkable as the White Mountains, but Jon thought they might hold something of value.

"My heart tells me I'll find something interesting there." Jon thought before blowing out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and landed on the high ceiling.

Besides the fleet, he had thought to build several small villages far along the shores west and south of the Ethir Anduin as Osgiliath had a large population, and he worried that they would be overcome in the next half-century.

He smiled, pleased with himself. "Yes, maybe I should construct a townlet or two... This will enhance the bastions and grant Gondor a greater command of the coast."

At that moment, he heard the door to his bathroom open.

That was when Jon felt soft, warm hands caressing his shoulders, and he smiled, knowing it was his beloved Arianne.

Arianne smiled. "Hello, my white wolf… Uuggh," but her good cheer quickly soured when she saw the pipe clutched between his teeth.

"Hello, my sweet viper…." Jon said, delighted until he felt delicate hands snatch his pipe from him and put it out in hot water of the tub before tossing it out the window.

Jon looked at the person in charge and saw the beautiful amethyst eyes with Ashara's beautiful smile in front of him.

"My amethyst jewel…." He said, enthralled by Ashara's beauty.

Arianne frowned. "We've told you many times how we abhor this foul practice, my wolf,"

"But I love it…." Jon said with a groan while Arianne snorted.

Ashara stared at him before producing a pouch of mint from her breast pocket "Silence my silly wolf… Chew," He said nothing and quickly snatched the leaf from her hands and wolfed it down.

"See, my beloved, tis far better than that disgusting weed," Arianne said before slowly massaging his shoulders.

Ashara merely smiled mischievously and unhurriedly began to shed her lovely dress, bearing her beautiful form for all to see.

Jon just stared at her in surprise and longing as she chewed on the mint while Arianne licked her lips at the sight of Ashara's luscious naked form.

Arianne had never shared a bed with the Lady of Starfall unless it was an orgy, though it seems fate has deemed they should now.

Without a word, Ashara gracefully slid into the tub and laid her head upon his chest; Jon smiled and held her close, enjoying the warmth of their embrace and her lovely scent, a medley of lavender and lilies.

Arianne frowned. "Tis not fair I should be left out of this celebration."

Ashara laughed and smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, Princess... But I won our little wager, and the prize is mine. You shall claim out wolf later,"

"A wager?" Jon asked, intrigued, and his loves chortled.

"We wagered you would be smoking that horrible pipe... And I lost, so now Lady Ashara has the honour of bathing with you while I must content myself with a mere massage," Arianne said, vexed by her plight.

Jon kissed Arianne but then frowned. "Is something wrong, my dearest beauties?"

Ashara gazed at them jealously and then spoke her voice debased with unease, "Why do you say that, Jon?".

"Ever since I've taken up the Princedom of this City, all of you have been badgering me relentlessly... Yesterday Dany and Shiera approached me to enchant me in the manner of Ancient Valyria, and three days prior, Rhaenys challenged me to a duel, and after besting her, we made love in the armoury, and now you two have joined in on the merriment" Jon said, looking at his flushed Ladies who averted their eyes.

Ashara looked at him bashfully for a moment and then spoke, "We're jealous, Jon..."

"Why?" Jon asked as he lathered Ashara's hair with love and care.

"Because... we want you not to forget us, my fool..." Ashara said, enjoying her beloved's deft hands.

He smiled wolfishly, touched by their concern."That will never happen. I treasure each of you," Jon then began to lather her bronzed breast, much to Ashara's delight.

"Ah..." Ashara exclaimed with pleasure, and at that moment, a cough was heard, and he turned to face Arianne, who captured his lips in a heated kiss. Her passion was so great Jon nearly forgot Ashara once they parted his viper smiled and spoke.

"Let's us adjourn to your bed, my love..." Arianne said, mad with desire, but Ashara glowered, clearly displeased.

"You shouldn't be so eager, Princess Arianne... I'm enjoying my time with Jon... I'm sorry but... Aahh," Ashara started to say, but her opposition ceased when Jon slipped two fingers into her pussy, provoking the Maiden of Starfall to groan in delight.

"We talked about this many times already. I will not tolerate rivalries between you," Jon said, enhancing his pace.

Ashara tried to speak, but Jon caress was sweetest, and soon she was moaning wantonly even Arianne couldn't contain herself and began pleasuring herself with reckless abandon.

though the haze of lust wouldn't last and soon, Arianne was by his side, eagerly caressing his neck and shoulders; undoubtedly, she hoped to ease his aches and pains

"Mmm... You're very good at this, Arianne," Jon said, enjoying the tender touches of his beloved.

"Daenerys showed me my wolf; how am I going?" Arianne said, eager to please Jon and make him forget those damned elves.

"Mmmm... There's pain there, Arianne," Jon said, gesturing to his stiff neck, and it seems Arianne was all too happy to heal him.

For several minutes he continued to caress Ashara's voluptuous form. Not a word was spoken between the three; indeed, the only sound was the splash of water and the Ashara's heated moans until, at last, she found her release.

"well, it seems my loves are eager," Thought Jon, pleased with himself. He then rose from the bath much to the vexation of Arianne, but her displeasure was quickly supplanted by joy when he kissed her again, greedily devouring her mouth.

Arianne smiled. "Mmmm… My beloved wolf, at this swiftness my lips shall ache"

"I know… But I can't cease… I want you… I want you both…." Jon growled, caressing Arianne's curvaceous bust with desire.

"Truly my wolf, are you so hot-blooded?" asked Ashara amusedly.

Their beloved said nothing and grinned wolfishly, then, much to their shock, hoisted both of them over his shoulders and swiftly strode to the bedroom.

"Jon!" Arianne yelled, wholly embarrassed by her dragons' courageousness.

"Baelon!" Ashara yelled, lost in the heat of lust.

Both noblewomen tried in vain to free themselves until he laid them upon the goose down mattress, and yet they drew the sheets over themselves as if they were maidens newly wedded.

This only spurred him further, and soon he was wholly consumed by the wolf blood.

He hurled himself at Arianne, who eagerly welcomed her beloved's embrace though Ashara was displeased as she was compelled to watch as Arianne was pleasured by their wolf.

Their affair of passion continued long into the night, with Jon pleasuring Arianne and Ashara as best he could, soon day gave way to night, and the moon rose high over the city, bathing his chambers in a silvery glow, and there they lay wholly spent with Arianne on his right and Ashara to his left they said nothing merely gazing at each other eyes full of lust and love and each succumbed to a night of blissful sleep.

-----------------------------------------------

When he awoke the following morning, Jon felt he was resting upon something soft when he opened his eyes. Jon knew he was resting upon Arianne's bosom.

As he sat upon, his senses were assaulted by the aroma of lovemaking. Though the sight before him filled him with a powerful fondness, Arianne and Ashara, their bronzed skin glowing in the light of the morning sun, each smiling as if they hadn't a care in this world.

Jon wished for nothing more than to remain abed and admire the beauty of his dearest Dornish maidens, but with a heavy heart, he knew he must attend to his duties they had wasted a whole day making love. First, he must bathe then inform his councillors that he wished to venture to Emyn Arnen.

His intuition told him that he would find something of value in those hills… yet he must persuade his grandmother and Azruben to let him go.

"Well, best not to delay, "Jon thought, vexed that he must wake his Dornish maidens, but he also desired to talk to Arianne and Ashara about their boldness in the recent days. Unlike the prior times, they did not dispute their standing with him as if they had begun some kind of partnership.

And then it was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, and Jon knew the desire of their hearts.

Arianne, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Shiera and Ashara were unnerved by Lalwen and Galadriel and employed all they knew in the arts of seduction and lovemaking to make him blind to all else so that when his beloved elves return, he would not cast them aside for the Noldorian Princesses.

Jon had no doubt that he had discovered the intentions of his loves, and it was rather pleasing often he was called a dullard when it came to matters of the heart maybe he would become a wise in the ways of woman as his forebear Daemon though considering how often his ancestor was scorned by women perhaps he shouldn't aspire to emulate him.

"Well, best to prepare for the day," Jon thought. He swiftly found a maid and ordered her to draw a bath for him and fetch three breakfasts. The young maid smiled with eagerness, but her countenance soured upon ordering her to bring clothes for Arianne and Ashara.

Jon watched her as she carried out her duties with practised grace; the young woman was lovely with honey blonde hair and grey eyes... But he had no attraction to her; however, her dour mood reminded him of what Azrubên had told them the day they had arrived in Osgiliath concerning the love elixir and how many women in the City had used it to ensure the husbands of their choice and how it had been banned from the markets.

He being the emissary of Lord Manwë as well as protégé of Lord Ulmo and Lord Aulë, direct descendant of the royalty of Númenor and having achieved great deeds in Middle-earth, as most had no knowledge of his marriage to Lalwen or Galadriel he was greatly desired by the maidens of Gondor. Indeed any maiden that married him would have an exceptional reputation among the Royalty of the Kingdom and thus the perfect target for any scheming noble who may still have some of the elixirs.

Alas, he had no inkling of which woman may be carrying some of the concoction, and he must be mindful of anything given to him.

He frowned. "Damn, I should have asked a servant for breakfast," scared that the maid was working for the benefit of some noblewoman or for herself.

"Well, I can only hope for the best", Jon thought, resigned to going back to his bedroom to wake up his loves and wait for his bath and breakfast.

Jon found them still sleeping soundly and smiled with satisfaction, yet he would be sorely tempted to climb into bed with them again, and so with a heavy heart, he shook them awake naturally Ashara had no wish to rise content to dwell in the land of dreams, so he yanked the covers away after a few moments she stirred and faced him her countenance sour from being roused against her will.

"What's wrong, my beloved wolf?" Ashara asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes

"Hello, my loves… Good morning" Jon said, sitting on the bed.

"Jon…" Arianne said, her voice tinged with drowsiness.

"My sweet amethyst maiden, you've both slept a great deal," Jon said with a smile, and Ashara threw a pillow at him.

"It's your fault, you red-blooded brute," Said the Lady of Starfall, reddening.

Jon smiled and laughed heartily. "Why should I bear the guilt?... You conspired to seduce me..."

"What are you talking about, my silly wolf?" Arianne asked nervously.

"Since we came to this City, all of you have endeavoured to bewitch me whether by yourselves or in pairs, not that I am grumbling… But I am beginning to notice that you are bold and possessive, and mayhaps the blame should fall to me. I suspect this concerns my affairs with Lalwen and Galadriel, yes?" Jon asked, sure of the answer, though his loves need not say a word; their reddening countenance spoke far better than any remarks could hope to accomplish.

"I see you know… You're not a foolish, naive youth anymore," Ashara said in a teasing tone after a moment, and Jon grumbled.

"My dearest maidens, you asked me once many long years ago of my feelings, and I spoke no falsehoods then, and I shan't now. But, though the beauty of the Noldor has enraptured me so headily, I love you utterly and deeply, my foolish maidens, I am yours, and you are mine and losing you would be the greatest evil in this world; I will never forsake you nor renounce your love.." Jon said with love and sincerity in his voice.

"Even when we are old and wrinkled with white hair and withered faces while your beloved elves remain youthful and fair until Arda ends?" Arianne asked, lowering her head.

He said nothing for a moment and then took Arianne's face into his hand and kissed her with all the love he could summon, and when they parted, he spoke.

"Time will never wilt your beauty, my love, never... It is true that we will wither, die and leave Arda, but you will not be less beautiful in my eyes, not now or ever... Though please continue with your endeavours to seduce me. I've come to enjoy it and know I will never choose favourites among any of you, so it would be good if you leave those gloomy thoughts behind," Jon said lovingly and kissed Ashara, who eagerly returned his passion threefold.

But when Jon parted from them, Arianne and Ashara began to strike him.

"Why must you wound me so?" Jon asked, covering his head.

"For embarrassing ourselves and hoping that we would persist in coming to you as anguished women, fool..." Arianne replied, blushing.

"Henceforth, you shall be the one who pines after us, my beloved begging for us to share your bed and to give you pleasure," Ashara said pridefully. It seemed she was especially pleased with herself.

"I very much doubt it, my beloved Ashara, in two nights, you shall be looking for me," It was a clever retort, but he thought better of it least they slap him again.

He smiled again. "Well, we best prepare ourselves for the day. I've already requested a bath for the three of us as well as breakfast; the maids will be here soon..." Ashara and Arianne weren't eager to leave the warm bed and drew the covers about themselves; alas, the pelt was covered in the product of their lovemaking. Moreover, their bodies were peppered with love bites from the night before.

"This is your fault, you silly red-blooded brute", Arianne groaned, eager to pummel Jon for her embarrassment, but she hadn't the strength, and he caught her hand before kissing her again.

"Enough, my beloved viper, or do you wish me to claim you again?... This time I will not be so kind and gentle; I will make you mine in such a way that you never think of raising your hand or your voice again..." Jon whispered lovingly in her ear, and for a moment, Arianne thought they would make love again, but her wolf laid a kiss upon her forehead and smiled.

"My beloved viper, if we start, we won't leave this chamber unto the ending days, and unfortunately, there are many things that require my attention," Jon said remorsefully.

"Fool…" Arianne growled angrily, a fire relit in her belly, yet her beloved would deny her it seems she must find her pleasure with Rhaenys or perhaps Dany.

Ashara giggled, and Arianne glowered at her.

Just then, they heard a knock at the door, and Jon opened it, revealing it to be the maid he had met earlier.

She was accompanied by three other maids who bore trays gladdened with food which they set upon the table while her companions carried large pitchers of hot water for his bath.

Breakfast consisted of three courses of fruit, bacon, eggs, and toast, along with a pitcher of coffee.

"I have carried out your orders, my Lord," The smiling maid said, bowing low. It was then he noticed Ashara and Arianne were frowning; perhaps it was their jealousy, but he dared not broach the subject with present company lest he embarrasses his loves.

Nevertheless, Jon found the gestures of that maid very curious; they were refined and soft, precise, they were nearly... The modes of a noblewoman.

The perplexing girl did not hide her liking for their wolf at all, which aroused distrust in them as they knew of the supposed love potion that had been dispersed among the maidens of Gondor.

Their silly wolf was the ideal match for all those upstart noblewomen. Naturally, they wouldn't give him up without a fight; however, that did little to waylay their fears concerning that pestilential elixir. Indeed upon hearing of that horrid potion, they had been troubled some among them chiefly Daenarys and Shiera had even considered informing Ladies Galadriel and Írimë confident that they could provide aid and perhaps intimidate any foolish girl who thought to ensnare their wolf with such horrid devilry. Still, at the mere mention of Írimë, Rhaenys had grown bitter and sought other resolutions.

They all knew how jealous and possessive both elves were and that when they found out about this, Galadriel and Írimë would come as swiftly as the Western winds upon the Great Sea this would be a great boon to them as well since Galadriel was well versed in the herb lore of Middle-Earth and could perhaps uncover any tainted libation.

Indeed the sole reason they hadn't summoned the Noldorin Princesses was they would tempt Jon with their beauty. But, alas for all his strength, their beloved was readily drawn to the Firstborn of Ilúvatar.

They would be exchanging one evil for another, but they were confident the Princesses had a greater dignity than the foolish maidens of this kingdom and wouldn't seek to lure Jon with such a lowly trick.

They had each taken their turn to tend to any gifts Jon acquired and had served ably but being mindful of every maid and woman that smiles at their dearest was wearying they needed help, and swiftly lest they lose him.

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They were broken from their musings when Jon addressed the maid.

"Thank you…" Jon started to say though her name eluded him.

"Fíriel, my Prince, my name is Fíriel, and if you no longer need me, I ask consent to continue with my obligations..." The maiden said with a smile on her face and acting suspiciously in a regal manner.

"You may…" Jon answered.

"If you require me, my Prince can find me in the kitchens... You should drink the juice since it is freshly squeezed, my Prince..." Fíriel said, beaming something neither Ashara nor Arianne cared for; it was the smile of a schemer.

"I don't care for her", Arianne said once she was confident the maid was out of earshot.

"That maiden was far too bold though she seems harmless. Nevertheless, it would be wise to watch her," Ashara seconded.

"Aye, I agree with you, Ashara but come we have a breakfast to eat. I've a full day ahead of me, and I would rather not have an empty stomach," Jon said with a sigh.

"Ashara speaks truly, that maiden… Firiel, there is something awry with her: the way she talks and moves… She is too queenly. She behaves as a daughter of Kings rather than a mere maid," Jon thought suspiciously.

"What are you going to do, Jon?" Ashara asked, eating a piece of toast.

"I desire to scour Emyn Arnen and see if I can find anything of value in them…." Jon said, taking a glass of juice after a moment revelling in its taste.

Fíriel told the truth; the juice was fresh and seemingly harmless.

"I don't like that maid... My wolf, she yearns for you," Arianne said sourly.

"It's true, Jon... You must be careful with the gifts you accept from the Maidens of Osgiliath... though you haven't known we've intercepted a great many gifts since we came here, most of them costly wines," Ashara said as Jon showed himself Surprised.

... It seemed strange to me that no Lady had tried anything... Jon thought with a shrug after a moment.

"It's better that we eat... The food is getting cold, and we have many things to attend to... Azrubên will be upset if I'm late..." Jon said, devouring a piece of bacon without seeming to give importance to the matter to the vexation of his loves.

---------------------------------

After breakfast and fending off the amorous embrace of Ashara and Arianne, he made his way to the council chambers hoping to persuade his grandmother and Azrubên to let him search the foothills of Emyn Arnen.

The Council Hall was a spacious chamber held aloft by many wide pillars richly carved and upon the walls hung many tapestries. In the centre of the room was a great oaken table surrounded by chairs of wood save his, which sat in the centre of the throng and was carven from jet stone set with many gems.

His Council consisted of his grandmother, Azrubên, Lord Earendur, Lord Hallatan, Lord Cemender and Lord Calmacil and several minor nobles of some lineage still he couldn't recall their names and they knew nothing of note merely there for the sake of courtesy as some among them were among the oldest Numenoreans in Middle-Earth.

To the surprise of all the nobles, he proved to be a particularly able Prince righteousness in all matters is his watchword, never allowing the law as written to compromise its noble intent, never refusing anyone a hearing in his presence to air grievances of which must be judged. He has issued a decree that none are to suffer for what they say during such an audience.

Jon demanded that the Council meeting table be rounded so they may be considered equals, arguing that none of his counsellors should have more consequence than others as they all loved Gondor and Osgiliath and only sought her betterment... Indeed, the Lords of the fiefdoms welcomed this save Azrubên, who grumbled his discontent but dared not challenge him it seems the old coot had revealed in his position and often spoke ill of the other Lords and while Jon had kept him on the council for the sake of his wisdom this revelation somewhat soured his perception of Azrubên.

For this reason, although Jon insisted that all be equal in Council sessions, due to his charisma and leadership, He was considered a First Among Equals in the Council of Osgiliath.

Although his grandmother was always seated to her right and Lord Azrubên to his left.

Likewise, since some of the councillors live outside the City, the Council meetings were once a month, this being the second meeting that Jon chaired.

Is this how my forebears in Westeros felt when they sat upon the Throne?

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Rhaella POV

"Well, we are all here now; the meeting can commence," Her grandson said with authority, and she gave him her full attention.

Rhaella was very proud of what her grandson Baelon had achieved in just half a year of ruling this city... Baelon was fierce and noble in diplomacy as he was in war; of course, very little time had passed for him to have made a noteworthy change, but his willingness to travel throughout his domains to meet with his subjects and those under his care spoke volumes of Jon's character.

Then upon returning to Osgiliath, Baelon had begun to share and display his knowledge learned by both the Eldar and the Dwarves with all in Osgiliath, be it forging weapons or gleaming mail with which he won the admiration of the soldiers and nobles who wept when upon seeing arms and armour equal to those they lost when Elenna-nórë sank beneath the waves.

All while she watched in awe at the ease with which her grandson seemed to win the favour and respect of his vassals.

Rhaella remembered well the reign of her grandfather Aegon V and the later reign of her father, King Jaehaerys II, both being satisfactory monarchs, but if one looked below the surface, one could see the chinks in their armour.

His grandfather Aegon V ruled wisely and well, but he had three significant weaknesses. The first was that due to his years travelling through Westeros with Ser Duncan, he acquired great concern for the welfare of the Commoners, but opinions on this varied over time. Nevertheless, the commoners of Westeros remember him as a great king who was genuinely concerned for their well-being, ensured their financial livelihood by raising taxes on wealthy nobles and merchants and punished lords who abused the rights of commoners whom they denounced.

On the other hand, though, the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms began to resent her grandfather for precisely the same reasons.

"You can't please everyone, but favouring one of the parties in conflict above all will cause problems… Knowing when to favour one and when to favour another… That is one of the domains of politics," Rhaella thought sadly.

Secondly, her grandfather indulged his children: having married for love himself, he allowed his children to do the same, although this was not wise and made him the main enemy of the Seven Kingdoms. The High Lords resented him for his love of peasants. Indeed, they thought her grandfather was half peasant himself, and a marriage alliance with one of the Great Houses would have helped stabilize his rule. But her Uncle Duncan abdicated his place in the line of succession to marry a commoner, Jenny of Oldstones. Her mother was supposed to marry Luthor Tyrell, and her father Celia Tully, but this only seemed to foster a forbidden romance between her parents, who eloped and married without her Grandfathers permission leaving him to deal with the anger and wounded pride of both House Tully and House Tyrell.

On the other hand, her uncle Daeron, a splendid and brave knight, did not want to marry Olenna either, although in his case, his taste for men, chiefly his squire, was to blame, so after his two older brothers broke off their commitments, he also broke his own, saying that his father could not legitimately force him to marry against his will when he had already given in for his two older brothers.

And finally, her grandfather had an overwhelming obsession with hatching the surviving Targaryen dragon eggs. He became convinced that only with dragons could he force the lords of the Seven Kingdoms to accept his decrees that granted freedoms, rights, and protections to the smallfolk.

And those last two acts of foolishness resulted in the Tragedy of Summerhall.

The blaze got out of control and destroyed the castle, killing her Grandfather, Ser Duncan the Tall, and Uncle Duncan. She nearly burned to death as well, only saved by Ser Duncan's courage giving birth to Rhaegar amid pain and fire.

And a year later, after the War of the Ninepence Kings ended as she walked through the red keep, she overheard Ser Barristan conversing with some of his fellow Kingsguard.

The Prince of Dragonflies loved Jenny of Oldstones so much he cast aside a crown, and Westeros paid the bride price in corpses. All three of the sons of the fifth Aegon had wed for love in defiance of their father's wishes. And because that unlikely monarch had followed his heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his sons to have their way, making bitter enemies when he might have made fast friends. Treason and turmoil followed, as night follows day, ending at Summerhall in sorcery, fire and grief.

At first, Rhaella was outraged by the knight's words and considered having him flogged for insolence, but she soon understood that he was telling the truth.

Her grandfather Aegon's three remaining children her own parents had married for love in defiance of their father's and mother's wishes. And because her grandfather had followed his heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his children to get away with it, making bitter enemies of the Great Houses when he could have made quick friends, truly a horrid affair all around.

As for her father, King Jahaerys...

Her father had looked sickly for as long as Rhaella could remember, pale and frail, with large purple eyes and shoulder-length hair. And although he wore the crown of his grandfather Maekar he was no warrior like the Anvil. He suffered from numerous ailments throughout his life. An amiable and clever man, yet a hypocrite.

Due to his failing health, her father Jaehaerys was considered weak by many, and it was true he would never be able to lead armies on his own, and as a fighter, he was mediocre. Yet her father was a fiercely intelligent man; he showed himself capable in matters of governance, restoring order to the kingdom, ending the Blackfyre threat and reconciling many of the Great Houses who had grown unhappy with her Grandfathers' reign, although House Tully never forgave her father for his slight against Celia.

With the Reign of her grandfather and father, Rhaella learned the three facets that every capable ruler needed… Strength, intelligence and the most important… Charisma.

The strength to lead armies and fight with them on the battlefield because it doesn't matter how intelligent a monarch might be if he doesn't lead an army at least once.

Intelligence was vital in leading for obvious reasons... But the third element, charisma, was what made clear those who were born to rule empires; Rhaegar, for instance, was well-loved by the people of the Seven Kingdoms, but in the end, respect was not the same as charisma, and that would explain why half of the Kingdom sided with Robert Baratheon during the rebellion, truthfully, it seemed her sons' life seemed one of aversion as he had no true friends save Connington and the Kingsguard.

But with Jon, things are different… At first, he was akin to his father in thought and mood, gloomy and melancholy, but when he discovered his origins and accepted his heritage… He was wise in rule, valiant in war and eager to learn the facets of rulership.

"It's not his lineage nor his mastery. He has some quality that makes people desire to aid him. And anywhere in Arda, that is the most formidable power of all" Were Glorfindel's words, and Rhaella agreed wholeheartedly.

"Baelon was born to rule, not to be a follower... I have no doubts" Rhaella came to that conclusion proudly after watching her grandson for many months.

---------

"I wish to go explore the Hills of Emyn Arnen," Jon said, suddenly surprising everyone.

"The Hills of Emyn Arnen?" Azrubên asked, astonished.

"Yes... My Lord, you heard well," Jon said earnestly, looking carefully at all his Council.

"Is there any reason for that?... they are mere hills that serve as a border", Lord Calmacil seconded.

"I wish to explore them so I can see if I can find anything of value in them… I have a… strange feeling in my heart something in those hills calls to me. I'm certain I shall find something of worth," Jon said.

For a few moments, they all looked puzzled at their Prince's words and looked at each other strangely; why had their prince taken such an interest in those hills? They had roamed these lands for many years, and to their knowledge, the Hills possessed no gold or jewels nor even stone for building.

"Baelon… Don't tell me you desire to go on another one of your adventures?" Rhaella groaned in exasperation.

"No, no, no... Of course not, grandma... Though I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to see many more lands, I swear to you that what drives me now... is that feeling in my heart... And besides, I have no intention of going alone... I'll take fifty capable men who know the land to scout it." He said happily, and his Grandmother frowned, clearly displeased by his choice.

And seeing the Dowager Queen in such a situation, the councillors didn't know whether to laugh or offer their condolences, but Lord Azrubên soughed, and all eyes turned to him.

"Though I must admit I have heard of Lord Jon's Foresight… I am afraid there are important matters that require your attention…." The Old Steward said.

"Noteworthy matters?" Jon asked, intrigued.

"They are my Lord Jon ports... They are about to receive valuable shipments from the South and from Harlond," Lord Earendur said, wilting under his princes' gaze.

"Shipments of what?" Lord Hallatar asked.

"Just the usual silks, spices, rare plants, and gold, but in vast quantities... it will be of great benefit to my City and the surrounding villages," Earendur said.

"You need guards for your shipment…." Jon guessed, and Andreth's father nodded.

"Normally, I wouldn't trouble you with something trivial, my Prince, because I am quite capable of defending my own ships. However, the value of this cargo is without measure, especially the plants as they are used for poultices and ointments and tea to calm fever as of late our wretched cousins to the South have grown far bolder in their raiding of the coast, and I fear once they hear of so great a prize they shall gather like flies to dead flesh. So I find myself in need of your aid to defend my ships," Lord Earendur said, bowing his head in embarrassment as Jon pondered his plea.

He judged that keeping Lord Earendur's harbours safe was essential as such valuables were rare, especially this far North as the Men of Harad held not love for Gondor and acquiring such wealth must have taken months of raiding on their part… Yet his mind was clouded by thoughts of Emyn Arnen... he was certain in those hills he would find something of great worth, or perhaps the mountain themselves would prove valuable.

Despite the importance of Lord Erendur's proposition, he couldn't ignore his premonition in those hills, so he thought for a few moments and then spoke.

"How long will it take for your goods to arrive at port, Lord Erendur?" Jon asked.

"About three weeks, my Prince" Was the answer of the old Lord, and Jon nodded and then waited a minute.

"Grandmother…" Jon said, turning to look at Rhaella.

"Yes, Baelon?" The Dowager Queen asked curiously.

"You will go with Lord Erendur to Lebennin accompanied by three hundred knights to guard the Ports of Pelargir and ensure that the merchandise reaches Osgiliath, I will take... fifty men to explore the hills, it will not take more than three days to arrive and eighteen days to explore them… Then, I shall summon Vhagar and fly to the Ports of Pelargir to join you and our soldiers when I have concluded my business, Lord Calmacil, you shall accompany my grandmother, and command the Knights" Jon said, and the old soldier knew he could scarcely refuse such an honour.

"As you order, My Prince..." Lord Calmacil said, nodding respectfully.

"Well… is there another matter of importance that this Council must deal with?" Jon asked, holding firm against the imperious gaze of his grandmother, who was no doubt displeased with his flight of fancy.

---------------------------------------.

"WHAT IS THIS FOOLISHNESS, BAELON?!" Rhaells yelled furiously.

"Alright... dear grandmother, calm down... it wouldn't do any good for you to cause a scene nor undermine my rule, especially if one of the maids overheard us," Jon said, taking a glass of wine.

"I thought you would no longer go on your adventures and would take your new role seriously," Rhaella growled furiously.

"I do, Grandma, but I feel in my heart that we will find something important in these Hills… thought it shall not appear for many centuries hence," Jon said cryptically, and Rhaella became curious.

"Did you have a vision?" She asked worriedly, taking her grandson by the hand lovingly and gently, knowing full well that Jon's visions had grown darker in recent years.

"Yes, or perhaps not, just a feeling, although it's not bad... It felt more akin to a warning," Jon said, stroking his temple, and his grandmother watched him rise to his feet before taking his hands in hers.

"Tell me what you saw…" Rhaella said lovingly in Jon's ear.

"I… I… I only saw in my mind those hills where a statue with a name at its feet arose… Hurín, like that of my ancestor and then an almost endless line of statues came out of the ground until I reached the statue of a man he was with a fair and noble face, dark-haired and grey-eyed, proud and stern of glance.; And of old, the light of Valinor shone in his eyes, at his feet were two other statues of whom I believe were his sons… The statues bore no names, but they were of similar countenance to their father. At that moment, the stars came together and formed bright letters in the sky, with which they wrote a name…." Jon said, enjoying his grandmothers' ministrations.

"What name?" Rhaella asked, now intrigued by the story as she massaged Jon's head, a technique learned from the Lady Írimë for these situations.

"Hurin..." Like the one in the first statue," Jon said, enjoying his grandmother's caresses, but unfortunately, Rhaella ceased her tender touch and sat next to him.

"I see that seems like something important..." Rhaella said in a resigned voice without looking at him, and Jon decided to return the favour to his grandmother and drew her silver braid to the side and began to massage her shoulders.

"Aaahhh", Rhaella groaned, surprised both by her grandson's gesture and the pleasure she felt; Jon felt that his grandmothers back and neck were knotted many times over it seems ruling had taken a tole upon her just at is had him.

"So… why… why did you send me to the Ports… Aahh?" Rhaella asked, her mind clouded with pleasure.

"You are my best Advisor… And my most capable administrator next to Lord Azrubên, but he has more experience than you ruling this City… Also, I planned to use that time in the Havens to spend time together. I even thought of summoning Vhagar and Dreamfyre to soar through the skies of Gondor… That will be a sight the Gondorians will never forget." Jon said, chuckling as he removed another knot from Rhaella's shoulders, causing her to moan in pleasure.

"I don't doubt it, Baelon, aah... Your plan sounds wonderful..." Rhaella said she was eager to spend time with her Grandson and their dragons... She hasn't flown with Dreamfyre for many months, and she missed the beautiful dragon greatly.

But most of all, the massage... She had only heard about massages from her old friends and Ladies-in-waiting, Joanna Lannister and the former Princess of Dorne, but Rhaella herself was never pampered that way by anyone.

With the conversation between the two calmed down for the moment, Jon began to heal his grandmother's body and remove all the knots from her neck, shoulders and back as he had done with his beloved Galadriel during their travels in the East. She moaned heatedly; she blushed in embarrassment; she sounded like a slattern, yet she had never felt such joy as feeling her grandson's calloused hands on her soft skin.

"How are you feeling, grandma?" Jon asked, pleased with himself.

"Wonderfully, Baelon... I've never felt better... That you did was wonderful..." Rhaella said, moaning with happiness, caressing Jon's hands tenderly.

"Well, Grandma, in that case, we must start preparing everything for our departure.." He said, helping her up and offering to escort her to her chambers before returning to his duties in the armouries.

"Thank you, Baelon. Do you promise me that your trip to those hills will be brief? And then you will meet me as soon as you can," She asked with a frown, and Jon swallowed hard.

"I'll do it, I promise, I already said it at the meeting, I'll take fifty men, and if we don't find anything of note, Then I'll join you at Lord Erendur's ports," Jon promised nervously.

"In that case, darling… Go in peace, although you must explain to your cousins and your loved ones that you will have to leave…." Rhaella said with a smile.

"Yeah, I hope they take it well..." Jon said with some apprehension in his voice.

"And remember to be careful with the gifts that servants and noblewomen offer you," Rhaella said with a mischievous smile, and Jon snorted in annoyance.

"I won't forget..." Jon growled dryly, remembering the damn aphrodisiac and the number of gifts his loves had intercepted.

-------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- --------------------

After spending a few hours in the armouries and the rest of the day supervising the training of the soldiers in the training grounds, Jon, along with Lord Calmacil, chose the three hundred soldiers that would escort his grandmother Rhaella to the Ports of Pelargir, then when the day finally ended he met her cousins and her loves for dinner and told them about the reunion and his grandmother's temporary departure to the Pelargir Harbors as well as hers to the Emyn Arnen Hills.

And Jon was right to be fearful of the response of his loved ones and his cousins; they were upset when they knew that he was going to leave again, and he was forced to dodge many knives, which served him as practice, but in the end, he managed to make them understand that it was not simply the desire for adventure that took him to those hills, though it wasn't such a dour affair when they learned the Hills were only three days ride from the Capital.

"I promise I'll be back soon with my grandmother Rhaella; we have business in the ports, as you know... we'll be back at the latest by the end of the month when we have that shipment secured..." said Jon helping Arya and Rhaenys to their feet after they had thought to spar with him in hopes of emptying their hearts of anger.

"It's not fair…" Arya said indignantly at being beaten without even a weapon.

"We have trained for many years, and he defeated us without even using weapons…." Rhaenys growled, feeling humiliated.

"You should already know that defeating me is not an easy task... So now, please, Arya and Rhaenys, calm yourselves... I do not wish to depart this city while there are bitter feelings between us," Jon said before embracing them both, and it seemed to quiet their anger a great deal, yet he knew they would not be denied recompense for this.

"This time, will you return soon, my love?" Daenerys asked, going to Jon and burying her face in his chest, and he gazed at her lovingly before placing a kiss upon her brow.

"I will, Dany, I swear… now I think it best you seek out your mother before the days end as she will be departing shortly after I leave, and it wouldn't do you any good not to spend some time with her," Jon said grabbing Daenerys by the chin before assaulting her with a fierce kiss.

"I will…" Daenerys said, struggling to speak as Jon kissed her while the rest of his concubines were jealous of the Dragon Princess as well as Sansa and Arya.

"So, will you go again, Jon?" Shiera growled as she played with her kitchen knife, something he watched warily as his Star of the sea had rather a good aim with knives, no doubt his Grand Uncle Brynden had taught her many years ago.

"That's right... But don't worry, this time I promise I'll be back at the end of the month..." Jon said, releasing Dany from his embrace, and she kissed him again before returning to her mother's side. Then Arianne took her place.

"My wolf... Do you remember our last exchange?" Arianne asked.

"Yes, my beloved viper… This time it is not the thirst for adventure that drives me but also my duties. I already told you that I will only be in those hills for 10 days if I find nothing… I will go without delay to the ports to help my Grandmother," Jon said, starting to get irritated at being teased about it, and Arianne giggled.

"I hope you shall keep your oath, Jon", Sansa growled, annoyed as she started her dinner without looking at her cousin, but her cold fury was clearly noticeable.

Once again, Jon left her alone... to go on some grand adventure, never knowing how she loved him so fiercely.

"Sansa..." Jon said, disappointed that she would act so coldly towards him.

"Come back soon, then we can talk..." Sansa said, attacking her lemon cakes with fierce gusto, preferring not to look at him.

"Well..." Jon said, confused by Sansa's sudden change of character.

"Come back soon, Jon..." Ashara said with a friendly smile and then went to Jon and kissed him first on the forehead and then on the lips.

"I promise…" Jon said with a smile and a happy sigh.

… Let's see what awaits me in those hills; I know it will be necessary for the following centuries… Although I wish Loras and Robar were here… I really miss them a lot…

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Westeros (One and a half years after the taking of King's Landing)

Jamie Lannister was currently walking the cold terrain of Winterfell after the last snowfall.

It had been a year and a half since Vale's soldiers had taken him to the North on Catelyn Stark's orders, where he was thrown into another dungeon, although this one was strangely warm and comfortable as it had a fireplace, hot food, clean rushes, warm furs and they allowed him to take a daily bath and even gave him candles and books to entertain him… If it wasn't for the fact that he was in a dungeon, Jamie would think he was a guest and not a hostage.

Jamie suspected that Brienne had something to do with that strange kindness, but she wasn't about to complain since this was clearly an improvement after languishing in the Dungeons for so long.

But the most important thing of all was that they brought him news from abroad... The most surprising thing was that his sister Cersei had been defeated by Aegon Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar, whom everyone believed dead.

At first, Jamie was incredulous, thinking it was a farce or the jailers were making fun of him, or the boy an impostor, but then Brienne herself went to tell him the news and being a humourless giantess, and as honest as an old Septa. He accepted that she wasn't lying to him.

The now King Aegon had invaded Westeros with the help of Jon Connington (who had not died of drunkenness) the Golden Company, and with the support of Dorne and apparently, with strange magic, he had conquered the Seven Kingdoms by defeating the forces of the Tyrell at Storm's End and then pillage King's Landing when Lannister forces were in the Riverlands.

Jamie now worried about Tommen and Myrcella, but Brienne told him that no one had said anything about them, so they should stay alive, although that did little to calm his worries, and as for Cersei, evidently his promiscuous, treacherous, unfaithful and manipulative sister, had gotten what she deserved, and was imprisoned in the black cells and was reportedly flogged once a week.

That put a smile on Jamie's lips. But it also filled him with nerves since he knew that the new King would execute him for what happened to his grandfather or, in the best case, castrate him and send him to the Wall, and he had no friends in the North or in the Riverlands… So he would never get to Casterly Rock on his own.

And after that, he remained in the dungeons discouraged; however, one day, he was brought to the Great Hall of Winterfell, and there he saw her again.

Catelyn Stark was whole once more, her flesh a pale cream and her hair fiery red, but she kept the scars she had when she looked like a walking corpse; Jamie had always had doubts about whether the gods existed or not but seeing Catelyn Stark in such a state.

Well, it seemed that there were forces in the world that he didn't understand and didn't want to.

But she was not the only person that "The Young Lion" saw in that room, Blackfish was next to his niece, and the old knight looked at him coldly, in addition to her, there were two red-haired children that Jamie remembered too much well from his previous visit to the North and for a few moments he could not contain his surprise.

Brandon and Rickon Stark… The younger sons of Stark, who Theon Greyjoy was believed to have executed. Seeing again the boy he threw from the Broken Tower to hide his relationship with Cersei, Jamie felt guilt and shame filled his being.

Much had changed; Brienne and her squire Podrick now wore armour with the emblem of the direwolf showing their loyalty to House Stark.

"My Lady…" Jamie said, bowing.

"Ser Jamie… You should bow to my son Rickon the new Lord of Winterfell," Catelyn Stark said in a cold tone, and Jamie looked at Stark's youngest son, a boy with a wild countenance.

"I take it you called me to discuss my departure to King's Landing," Jamie said, trying to hide her fear.

"No..." Catelyn Stark said, visibly surprising him.

"No?" Jamie asked, visibly surprised.

"Had your time in the cells filled your ears with snow… Kingslayer?" Blackfish asked, clearly annoyed at the current situation.

"Your brother and I have reached an agreement… From this moment on, everyone thinks you are dead, and you will be a guest at Winterfell; you will be able to tour the castle, but also, if you try to escape, the Crown will be notified that you are alive… And The new King will be eager to get his hands on you," Lady Stark said with a horrible smile showing him a sword that Jamie knew very well... Widow's Wail.

Now the Starks recovered the two swords created from Ice.

But Jamie was shocked by something other than the sword... Tyrion saved him?... That was another moment of shame for Jamie, the way he betrayed his little brother forced by their father, and after their last meeting, he couldn't believe Tyrion still loved him.

"My brother saved me. How?" Jamie asked incredulously.

"Apparently, the Imo is one of the new King's Advisors... And my niece intended to exchange you for her eldest daughter, but unfortunately, that could not be since the words of a certain vermin seem to be true... But when your brother found out that you were, our hostage begged us not to kill you or tell King Aegon you were here… So, my niece agreed to the terms," Blackfish snapped.

"But if you try something Lannister or if your brother tries anything foolish… We'll send you to Casterly Rock piece by piece…." Lady Stark threatened, and Jamie gulped.

"I understand…" Jamie said.

"Brienne will keep an eye on you, so you don't try anything… Though you don't have much of choice right now," Lady Stark said.

"Apparently not…" Jamie said, knowing he had no choice but to remain in Winterfell, hoping that whatever Tyrion was planning would work out.

"You must train with your left hand, Ser Jamie, though I feel you shall be rewarded for your valour dark times are coming, and the Seven Kingdoms shall need the Andal Lion to Roar mightily again," Said the Stark boy who gazed at him blankly.

"Dark times?" Jamie asked.

"Yes, I don't hold a grudge against you for what happened… That was my destiny, you took away my ability to walk, but you helped me to fly," The Stark boy said, filling Jamie with confusion either the boy was half fucking mad or a prophet.

"It seems my son insists that we give you a sword... We will trust his word but mark my words Lannister... One mistake and losing a hand will be sweet mercy compared to what I shall do to you," Lady Stark threatened.

Notes:

Thanks to Great Red