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Chapter Text

After finishing their conversation, Jon and Elrond strolled to the Great Hall to join the others; as they walked, they were welcomed by the aroma of ham, eggs, potatoes and hot cakes, so they quickened their pace, hoping to grab some morsel before it was all gone. 

"I smell fruit tarts," Jon said, eagerly wondering what delicacies his beloved Lalwen had prepared for him.

And so they came to the Great Hall, where all unnecessary clutter had been moved away, and a great table many dozens of feet long had been brought out; each side had dozens of chairs and a raised dais at either end for the most noteworthy guests.

King Gil-Galad, King Elendil with his son, grandsons and daughter-in-law, the Westerosi Ladies, as well as Elves of chief importance such as Lord Círdan, Lord Glorfindel, his beloved Lalwen and Galadriel who conversing happily with her daughter.

Even more unexpected was that Rhaenys had sat to Galadriel's right while to Rhaenys's right, there was an empty seat which was to Lalwen's left; there was no doubt about his sister's intentions... To make certain that Lalwen doesn't try anything with it.

"Lord Elrond and Prince Baelon!... "Announced the herald at the door upon seeing them enter, and everyone at the tables except those on the dais stood up in respect as their Lord entered.

"Lord Elrond..." They said at once as the Lord of Imladris bowed low to Gil-galad while Jon bowed to Elendil.

"We have returned, my King…." Elrond said and Gil-Galad smiled.

"It is not necessary for you to bow, Elrond. I am a guest in your house at the moment; please sit and eat the breakfast is splendid…." Gil-galad said with a smile.

"Aye, Jon, you must do the same you will need your strength for the labours to come," King Elendil said, devouring a piece of ham.

"As my King commands…." Jon said, taking the seat between Lalwen and Rhaenys, which pleased his sister 

"Come, my husband! I have been waiting for you, we've not spent time together since arriving, and I have been hard at work baking your favourite treats," Lalwen said with a mirthful smile before bringing forth several large strawberry cakes, each topped with clotted cream. 

"Here, dear little brother, I requested your favourite dishes and a jug of milk…." Rhaenys chirped as she looked at Lalwen defiantly.

"And I prepared the strawberry pastries that you love so greatly with the fruits from my garden, my darling husband, Lalwen, said, answering Rhaenys's challenge haughtily, and Jon felt all eyes upon them, so he graciously took the cake and thanked his wife. 

"Thank you very much; I can't wait to try them... Now let us eat and be merry..." Jon said, hoping to quell their anger lest they start a fight before the Valar and everyone.

"Seldom have the halls of Imladris been so lively," Celebrían said, devouring some fruit before passing some to her husband.

"Indeed, my beloved wife... the days ahead shall be interesting", Elrond answered amusedly before draining a draught of wine.

"Those fruit tart looks really lovely..." Isildur whispered, eyeing the cream-covered pastries with great interest.

"Don't bother King Isildur… Jon would not part with those tarts for all the gold in Belegost," Loras growled, sipping a glass of juice.

"True, he has never given us a piece", Robar seconded, and soon the hall was filled with merry laughter.

"Though tasting a meal grown and prepared by the Lady Írimë must be a great delight," Glorfindel said amusedly.

"We shall never know, master... Jon is loath to share his cakes, and Lady Írimë will make them for none but him," Robar grumbled angrily.

"Jealousy is a terrible thing, Sers", Shiera chortled before eating another honeyed biscuit.

"Don't pretend that you wouldn't rather be the one to feed our brutish brother, my Lady", Loras said vainly, and Shiera gave him an evil look, indicating the old flower was right.

"Look at him, being fed by his sister and his wife," Robar said, glancing at Jon and then to his Lady Andreth, who sat with the nobility of Arnor drinking and happily dining on buttered scones.

"Don't worry, Robar, surely your Lady will one day coddle you so readily!" said Loras with a vexing smile.

"Enough Sers... Let's have breakfast in peace," Ashara said, brandishing her fork as a weapon, and both knights fell silent though all knew that the maiden of Starfall was jealous of the closeness of Írimë and Jon.

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"It's delicious, but please my loves, I can feed myself…." said Jon bashfully; though he was grateful for the attention, it was somewhat discomfiting to be pampered as such before such a large gathering.

"Come, dear brother, I haven't spent such a day with you in a long time," Rhaenys said in a honeyed tone as she looked haughtily at her greatest rival.

"In that case, Nin Mel, have some more cake," Írimë said, offering another fork of cake which he ate gladly and smiled.

"Magnificent Lalwen, it tastes even more delicious than I remember," Jon said, snatching another cake from the tray and devouring it to the delight of Írimë and the ire of his sister, who eyed him evilly.

"Wonderful, my husband, I spent many hours toiling in the soil to prepare these for you, but it seems my efforts are well rewarded," Lalwen said, wiping a dollop of cream from his mouth and kissing him passionately.

Yet Jon pithily felt dread as he heard the honeyed voice of Galadriel high and clear above all others in the hall.

"Oh... King Elendil, I must offer praise for your book concerning Númenor," Galadriel said suddenly, her eyes alight with mischief.

"My Star!…" Jon shouted, terrified by the words of a jealous Galadriel as he knew the ire of Shiera was terrible indeed, yet he heard nought in his mind save merry laughter.

"I am glad to know that you have enjoyed it, my Lady," said Elendil pleased that his works would receive such praise from the wisest of the Noldor.

"Well, I've yet to finish it though what I have read so far has intrigued me greatly," Galadriel said, subtly glancing at Shiera, who now listened with rapt attention.

"Oh, you finally finished your book on the Akallabêth, my friend…." asked Gil-Galad curiously as he took a jug of milk.

"A book on Númenor?" Shiera asked, intrigued.

"Yes, one written by my hand chronicling the history of our people beginning with the creation of Númenor until its Fall…" said Elendil proudly though his countenance was yet gloomy recalling the fall of the isle.

"Oh…" Shiera said, beaming excitedly, and Jon turned pale at her words

"Please, my King…" Jon tried pitifully to stop Elendil while Írimë and Rhaenys watched him with amusement.

"Is something wrong, Nin Mel? You seem terrified," Lalwen asked innocently.

"You're as pale as a corpse, little brother…." Rhaenys said, endeavouring to stifle her laughter.

Galadriel said nothing, merely smiling as her plot had come to fruition; it seemed her wolf was far more fearful of Shiera than she could've guessed, but it mattered little now her wolf shall learn to not keep such things from her.

"Jon, cease your foolishness... I am glad you shared the book with Lady Galadriel; indeed, you've had it in your keeping for so long I thought perhaps you would never share it," Elendil said, partaking in a large meat pie, not knowing he had sealed the fate of his knight.

"Oh... my dearest possesses a book of the histories of our people, and he has kept it to himself for so long?" asked Shiera gaily though her eyes glittered with evil intent.

"I think I said too much…" Elendil muttered, and Gil-Galad nodded silently, noticing Shiera's venomous countenance and Jon's pale face.

"My sweet Shiera…." Jon said, plainly fearful.

"Oh, Jon, how selfish and foolish you are…." Ashara said wearily, knowing her dragon would demand satisfaction.

Then Shiera rose from her seat, humming a merry tune; she strolled around the table until she stood before him. Though her countenance was cheerful, her eyes glittered. Such was the malice in them that he nearly fled.

"Shiera, I…" Jon began to say, but at that moment, Shiera took away his fruit tart, much to his horror.

"No!" Jon cried aloud, but Shiera would have none of it and swiftly silenced him

Then the Maiden of the Sea calmly resumed humming her song as she took a knife and cut his cake into several pieces, which she divided between all those at the high table.

"Eat heartily as my beloved Jon has kindly decided to share his strawberry shortcake with us," Shiera said, bowing and returning to her seat but not before glaring at him once more.

"Well, it would be rude to refuse such a treat," Isildur said quickly, devouring the cake with gusto.

"Oh, by the Valar… This is a delight," Isildur said, savouring the sweet treat.

"Oh... Lady Írimë is an excellent culinarian," Queen Berendreth said, seconding the opinion of her husband and then all began to dine upon the cream-covered morsels with great enthusiasm.

"Oh, my Lady is a wonderful cook…" praised Lord Círdan, buttering his with honey and jam.

"It's not fair that only Jon enjoys these delicacies", Robar growled heartily, devouring another cake.

"Indeed, brother, truly it is a gift to be shared," Loras said, delighting in the taste of strawberries and fresh cream.

"Well, my Lady, it seems the tales of your talents of a confectioner are true; these are exquisite..." said Gil-galad, having already eaten several more and still hoping for third helpings.

Írimë smiled happily and bowed. "Thank you, my King; I didn't think my work would be to the liking of so many. I will have to prepare cakes more often, "Rhaenys let out a mocking snort and glared at the Elf, seeing through her false humility.

"Can you make more Lalwen?" Jon asked, lamenting the loss of his dessert at the hands of a vengeful Shiera.

"Of course, my silly dragon,' laughed Írimë. 'But I'm afraid I'm weary, so it shall have to be another day... And I hope whatever you did to offend Shiera shall not happen again." 

"At least Shiera would have left me a piece." Jon moaned bitterly as Shiera scoffed at her lovers' foolishness.

"Don't push your luck, Jon... We're not done... When we finish breakfast, I demand you show me that book," Shiera growled.

"Jon… how long ago did you finish reading my book?" asked Elendil, amused by the liveliness of the Westerosi.

"I finished reading it three days after my King gave it to me... months ago," Jon said, feeling Shiera's wrathful gaze upon him.

"I cannot blame Prince Jon for not wanting to part with the book... It is enthralling and exquisitely detailed," Galadriel said calmly, but those who knew her best knew that the Lady of Light was upset; no, she was furious with Jon.

"You are a selfish brute" It was the only thing Shiera said as she returned to her breakfast while the others watched the events having breakfast calmly.

"Oh, Jon, I see you wear an Elven circlet; you bear it well," said Círdan, eager to change the subject.

"Thank you, Lord Círdan. It was a gift..." Jon said gladly, though his old mentor merely eyed him curiously as if trying to peer into his soul.

"It is a gift from me, Círdan,' said Írimë. "Though my Nin Mel has many things of great beauty, he seldom wears them save for special occasions, so Rhaella and I thought it best he should dress as befits his lineage."

"It is true, my Lord, we thought it best my grandson dress as befits his lineage rather than a mere servant," said Rhaella speaking for the first time though she was clearly discomfited by Shiera's actions earlier.

"They have the right of it, Jon…' said Elendil. 'You are the Prince of Osgiliath, the capital of the Southern Kingdom, and you are kin to me through many lines of Men and Elves… It is time to act as such! Seldom do I see you wear the Ulmondil and, rarer still, the sceptre of your office," 

"I'm of a mind with my father;' said Isildur taking a sip of wine. 'Save for the Elessar, you dress as a common soldier when the mood takes you, and though this is no great evil, Jon, it is unbecoming for one of such high lineage to walk about in such poor raiments.'

"Elendil and Isildur speak truly, Jon, whether you wish it or not," said Gil-galad supporting his friends. "You are a proud man of Westernesse and should carry yourself as such."

"Very well, I am not foolish enough to challenge the three of you," Jon said wearily, noting the look of joy that came over their faces.

And with that, they all returned to their breakfast in silence until his old mentor eyed him happily and spoke.

"It's a beautiful ring…." Lord Círdan said suddenly in a soft voice gazing at the ring which shone with golden light.

He noticed the ring bore the mark of Finarfin, which was proof that it was a gift from Lady Galadriel, yet none save his apprentice could work the metal, so it was clear that Jon had forged it himself though this unearthed further questions. Perhaps he would look into it though his heart told him that such things must come later.

So, everyone continued with their breakfast, save Jon, who sulked in his seat at the loss of the strawberry tarts, while Shiera merely smiled at him, undoubtedly pleased he had lost his hard-won prize.

"Well, my beloved Star, it seems you won… Jon growled, and as he had foreseen, the sound of laughter filled his mind.

'I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, my Wolf', Galadriel replied innocently, but Jon was no fool as his Star often used this ruse.

'Ah, no? Let me see, my Star, firstly, you revealed that I had the tome in my keeping hoping to arouse Shiera's ire, knowing she would seek to embarrass me. Secondly, I shall now be forced to clad myself in fairer raiment's to appear more meritorious of my station which you spoke of ere we attended the war council, and lastly, I must see to the defences of Imladris in the years to come... Have I spoken falsely, or was this your scheme all along?' Jon growled; though Galadriel remained silent, he sensed his rantings amused her.

'No, it seems you have learned my schemes rather well... I'm gladdened, my wolf; you become wiser by the day,' said Galadriel sipping her juice in contentment.

"I hope you've gained the satisfaction you desired, my Star," said Jon pitifully; he had no wish to fight his beloved over something so trivial.

"Of course, my wolf fear not... I am content though you shall not keep such things from me again! We are married, and there should be no secrets between us," Galadriel said reproachfully.

"I won't forget this, my spiteful and foolish Star…" said Jon though he groaned as his mind was assaulted by Galadriel's magic

"I should hope not my wolf to teach this lesson again would be unpleasant," said Galadriel vexedly.

"Well, since we shall not keep secrets from each other, I shall share a bit of news," said Jon happily, sensing his wife's curiosity and then he closed his mind to her as swiftly as a castle gate.

Jon welcomed Galadriel's wrothful gaze, yet he would not be cowed and merely smiled at her.

"Best not to ruin the surprise, my Star!" Jon said merrily, deciding to wait until the end of breakfast to enjoy the pampering of Lalwen and Rhaenys, who once again attempted to outdo the other with the love they showed him.

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Finally, after finishing breakfast, they chose to adjourn to Lord Elrond's study to take counsel on the training of soldiers, forging of weapons and lastly, the strengthening of the valley's defences.

Elrond's study was a spacious room, large enough to seat twenty comfortably. A bright fire was on the hearth, but the sun was warm, and the wind was in the South. It was a small council made up of himself, Elrond, Elendil, Gil-galad and lastly, Nestor; they made no small talk nor even bothered to put the kettle on, rather Nestor brought forth several maps of the Valley and the Mountains that surrounded it.

After much talk and considering the time they had, it was decided to build five new halls and walls to the South and North. Jon chose to bring to life one of the legends of the First Age… and build a large gate at the mouth of the valley, almost as if it were one of the twelve Gates of Gondolin… Although this new gate will be made of solid stone.

"Then this would be all for this topic..." Nestor said, rolling up the plans and handing them to Jon, who nodded.

"I'll start working as soon as possible, my Lords…." Jon said while Elendil and Gil-Galad nodded.

"Don't fret, Jon, you may rest a bit... I know such works shall be wearying, but it shall not be your only labours before we march," King Elendil said to the joy of Jon's mistresses, especially Arianne and Daenerys, as he would now be able to spend time with them.

"I thank you for your generosity, my King", Jon said, bowing.

Elendil sighed. 'Alas! Do not give thanks yet, for there is another task you must carry out before you may rest"

It was then he heard Galadriel's laughter. 'My Star?' asked Jon wondering if she knew something he may not.

"It may seem sudden as the day of Eruhantalë draws close, but I would ask you ride to Khazad-Dûm and beg King Durin to provide us metals and fuel for the forges," said Elendil, though the glint of his eyes betrayed the King.

Jon scowled at him. 'Aye, I see,' he said. 'You wish me to tell King Durin of our alliance and reaffirm his oaths to us.'

"Yes, that is your task, Jon; as soon as you return, you may rest a bit before we begin our labours..." said Isildur merrily though he did little to hide his amusement at Jon's misfortune much the same as his children, who chortled and sniggered gaily.

"Isildur." said Elendil glowering at his son.

"Aye, I mean no harm, father," Isildur said, hoping to placate the old King.

"Ha, ha, ha... Well, Jon, perhaps you should depart swiftly for Khazad-Dûm..." Loras cackled, happy at the misfortune of his brother-in-arms.

"Silence, Loras!" Jon said hissed; the idea of soothing the grumblings of the Old Dwarf was not a welcome one, yet it had been many long years since he walked these halls of the Dwarrowdelf and the thought of setting hammer to anvil pleased him greatly.

"Why does Jon have to be the one to go to that mine?" asked Arya, looking at him, half puzzled and half angry. 'Why must he be your errand boy?'

"I understand your anger, Lady Arya... But your cousin is the only person present skilled in reasoning with King Durin when he is outraged," said Elendil amusedly. 

"Without a doubt, for all the time my Nin Mel spent learning from the Dwarfs..." Lalwen seconded happily

"And due to the rush, we were in to meet here in Imladris, we did not send emissaries to King Durin requesting his presence, although he will doubtless know of the attack on Minas Ithil and the mustering of the Elves… Surely he will assume we didn't think it prudent to invite him to the council." Gil-Galad lamented.

"And my grandson will be the one to endure King Durin's wounded pride?" growled Rhaella angrily.

"Tis fine grandmother… In fact, I would like to see the Halls of the Longbeards again… King Durin's wounded pride is a small price to pay for such a thing," Jon grumbled when he suddenly heard Galadriel's voice.

'Oh my silly Wolf, you don't even believe that….' said Galadriel, her eyes alight with mischief.

'Seemingly, you enjoy my constant misfortunes of which you are chiefly to blame, my sweet Galadriel, but I think I need to teach you a lesson before I leave…' Jon replied happily.

'Oh, what lesson is that, my haughty Wolf?' Galadriel asked proudly, prodding his mind with little success.

'You will know soon, my Star... I've bid the servants fetch my creations,' said Jon proudly as his wife once more failed to enter his mind.

'Jon, tell me what you plan!' Galadriel ordered furiously.

'Aaahh, my Star, your passion burns bright as the sun though, if you must know, Elendur spoke truly; the best way to calm the anger of a woman is with fine gems though these shall be for Shiera alone since you meddled where you ought not to have.' Jon said, savouring his revenge.

"Then I'll be leaving tomorrow at first light," Jon said solemnly.

"The group is not ready; you can wait two more days before leaving…." Lord Elrond said, but Jon shook his head.

"No, it shall be far simpler to soothe Durin's ire without a throng of Elves accompanying me though I won't be going alone," Jon said, glancing at his brothers-in-arms evilly.

"It seems that your teasing will have consequences," said Galadriel amusedly, and many looked at her in bafflement.

"Indeed… My King, I would like to counsel that my companions Loras and Robar, as well as Princes Aratan and Ciryon, accompany me…." said Jon, his grin turning wolfish.

"Though this quest is but a pittance to the war effort, it should not be treated as so foolishly young Dúnedain," said Gil-galad angrily, believing the boy to be up to some tomfoolery.

"Aye, I know well the importance of the task ahead tis why I proposed it if the emissaries are accompanied by the sons of Isildur, it shall show King Durin we hadn't overlooked his aid and merely waited for the right time to ask," said Jon with a smile while his Lalwen giggled happily at his side.

"Your proposal has merit... very well, I shall allow it," The King said, glancing at his grandchildren.

"Grandfather!" The princes shouted but were swiftly silenced by their father.

"Aratan, Ciryon, my sons… it shall do you both good to treat with the Dwarves as they may well be your neighbours one day, so there shall be no arguments you will accompany Jon," said Isildur, staring at them, and the brothers nodded wearily knowing there was nought they could say to dissuade their father.

"Loras and Robar, you are two of my best warriors, and you, Robar, are one of my chiefest advisors, so your eloquence in speaking could be useful… you will go with Jon," Elendil ordered, and the two nodded though not before glaring at him.

"Fantastic… I shall ride Deathclaw; it's been far too long since we flew together," Jon said to everyone's puzzlement.

"And your dragon?" asked Lord Glorfindel, confounded.

"Vhagar departed Imladris some time ago," Jon said to everyone's surprise.

"How do you know Jon?" asked Rhaella in wonder.

"I merely felt her presence recede from the valley though Deathclaw, Ghost and Lòmerocco are still nearby," Jon said lightheartedly.

"So your dragon left... did you bid her leave?" asked Elendil, astonished.

"I can't order anything from that stubborn dragon, my King; Vhagar comes and goes as she pleases.' said Jon. 'But I don't know if she went south to hunt Oliphants or if she returned to her lair atop Caradhras!" 

"The bond Jon shares with those creatures is extraordinary... no doubt his northern blood," said Elrond glancing at him attentively.

"Aye, Jon seems to have a menagerie of beasts a Gryphon, Dragon and that great wolf," said Elendur

"Don't forget that magnificent stallion!" said Isildur

"Indeed, King Isildur, Lòmerocco is very proud, although, to my luck, he is not as stubborn as Vhagar and Deathclaw... though it is to be expected given his lineage," said Jon, arousing the curiosity of those who did not know then ancestry of his horse.

"Lineage?... What do you mean, my love?" Arianne asked curiously though she was furious at Írimë for hoarding Jon and was hoping for an opportunity.

"My horse is of noble descent, my dear viper... He is descended from Nahar, the Horse of Oromë, Huntsman of the Valar," said Jon to the amazement of those gathered.

"You… your horse is a…?" said Glorfindel, but the wonder was such that he merely rambled; he knew of all the horses that live in the Anduin Vale, few may claim to be of the house of Nahar, and they were considered a prize worthy of kings… knowing that Jon had such a horse was wholly unexpected.

Alas, the flames of resentment stirred in Ciryon, even the equines of their house could scarcely rival the herd of the Huntsman, and the young Prince wondered why Lord Elrond would give up such a prize. And be that as it may, the young Prince acknowledged that while Jon Snow was his grandfather's mightiest servant as well as a noble Lord, he was a servant… one who was already rising too high, in his opinion.

Though unbeknownst to Ciryon, Jon had discerned his heart. He was growing tired of the princes' arrogance, yet he would hold his tongue for now.

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Loras growled indignantly, believing Jon did not trust him.

"Forgive me, Loras, I only learned of his forbear some time ago," Jon said with an apologetic nod.

"I see that Elrond chose to tell you about the story of your horse," said Gil-galad glancing at his herald.

"Did you know, my friend?" asked Elendil suddenly, and the Elf king nodded.

"Elrond told me of this horse's existence ever since he came to Imladris as a little foal, and when he gave it to Jon, Elrond wrote to tell me the news... A pity on my part as I had tried to break him for myself, but the animal was too proud, although I had not resigned myself to claiming it until I found out that it had accepted Jon as a rider," said King Gil-Galad soughing.

"The horses that come from the line of Nahar are scornful, and they care little if you are one of the Firstborn or the Faithful... If anyone wishes to ride them, he must master them" Lord Círdan said wisely, remembering his days in Beleriand, where the herds of Nahar roamed freely.

"I find it hard to believe King Amdír would willingly give a gift such as that..." said Glorfindel recovering from his shock, and now curiousness sufficed him.

"Truly, I thought the foal a gift for my wife, though he would have no master, yet when Jon departed for Dorwinion, the foal had tried to follow him, and so I gave him as a gift for Lòmerocco had chosen his master," said Elrond quite pleased with the story.

'Jon, I know your companion is a mighty steed but is it just to risk him in battle?' Isildur asked. 'Would it not be better to put him out to pasture and sire a herd as mighty as himself?'

"I'm of a mind with Isildur, Jon; he is too great a prize for the battles and death that await us", seconded Robar, and this was met with many nods of agreement.

"Nin Mel… You must be wiser," laughed Írimë, pleased to stand beside her husband.

"Aye, I've thought as much though it is no trivial matter," said Jon glancing at Galadriel, who reddened.

'Do not mock me, Jon, or I shall punish you again', said Galadriel vexedly.

"What do you mean, dear brother?" asked Rhaenys, furious that Írimë stood so close to him.

"My steed... He is beguiled by a splendid mare that shines like silver in the day and gleams as snow in the evening, and until he claims her, I daresay he shan't accept any other..." said Jon merrily as a sudden gleam came to his eyes.

The others looked at Galadriel in silence and exchanged meaning glances among themselves.

"Oh yes… Prince Jon's horse has eternally courted Lady Galadriel's mare since the siege of Minas Ithil," said Elendur, amusedly recalling their first meeting with the horse.

"Lòmerocco is stubborn, yet that mare is equally proud..." said Jon though he was silenced as Galadriel assailed his mind.

"I told you, my Star, I would not forget your slights at breakfast nor in the war council... I would say we are even now!" said Jon with a pained smile.

"Of course, my foolish wolf, yet when you return from Khazad-Dûm, you shall know my wrath… WE WILL NOT SHARE A BED UNTIL YOU APOLOGISE FOR THIS!" Galadriel threatened furiously.

'That stings, my sweet Galadriel, but do not forget that each time you promise that, you always regret it at the last moment. Do you remember our trip to Dorwinion?... Or the matter of your spear?' said Jon proudly.

"Let's focus on other matters, Jon," said Galadriel, wholly embarrassed.

"It seems your wolf has become wise to your tricks Artanis," Írimë giggled, further embarrassing her niece.

"This has been illuminating, yet if there is nothing more to discuss, I suggest we attend to the matters at hand," said Gil-galad amusedly, yet as they were about to depart, there came a tremendous knock on the study door as soon as it was opened, they were greeted by the sight of two young Dúnedain carrying a large chest.

Upon seeing them, many figured them to be Jon's squires though both looked ill-suited for anything other than stable boys.

"Foolish children, I ordered you to delay until the meeting was at an end!" Jon grunted, and the young men cowered before offering many apologies.

"Forgive us, Prince Jon, it took us so long to find this chest that we thought the meeting was over, and we were keeping you waiting," said the elder of the two.

"Never mind that now be swift, or your punishment will be worse…." Jon threatened, and his squires bowed to King Elendil and the Eldar present and introduced themselves as Brownen and Orl.

"Go away, youngsters," growled Jon. 'My King. I ask your permission to send these youngsters to the training field and drill there until they drop," 

Elendil glanced at the young squires and bid them leave; they gave Jon a black look and departed, muttering among themselves. 

"What's in the chest, Jon?" asked Círdan curiously.

'O Tell us, my love!' interrupted Írimë eagerly. 'What's in the chest!'

Though he enjoyed Lalwen's pampering, he untangled himself from her embrace and strode to the large chest, all the while beaming at Shiera, who was eyeing him warily.

"Shiera, my dear… I know you're furious with me for keeping the existence of King Elendil's tome from you, and I apologise; I'd hoped to reread it one more time… Well, three more times before I lent it to you, but it was cruel of me... so I bring gifts to quell your anger, my silver dragon," said Jon throwing open the chest and bathing the room in silvery light.

Therein laid many fine pieces of jewellery; there were necklaces, brooches, ornaments even tiaras, all wrought of silver set with countless sapphires and emeralds.

"Oooh..." cooed Sansa, amazed by the beauty of the baubles though she was not alone in her admiration as the maidens gathered were awed by the beauty of the silver.

"Splendid…" said Gil-galad, marvelling at the beauty of the pieces.

"It is as if you meshed the light of moon and sun," Isildur said thoughtfully, wishing to claim the little horde for his wife.

"They are beautiful..." said Celebrían, and her eyes were dazzled, for they were filled with tears that such gifts should be denied to her.

Shiera stepped forward and glared at Jon evilly. "And do you expect me to forget such a cruel jest, my wild wolf?... Do you think me frivolous enough to forget your coldness with pretty trinkets, my dear wolf?" growled Shiera, and Jon began to lose heart, although, at that moment, Arianne tried to take a bracelet from the chest, and Shiera seeing her swiftly slapped the princesses hand away.

"Aye, you are Shiera," said Ashara knowing that despite her proud words, Shiera considered those silver jewels as her own… And she didn't intend to share them.

"Greedy bitch…" Arianne muttered, stroking her hand, earning reproachful looks from the elves for her coarseness.

Shiera didn't reply and closed the chest to the pity of the elves and men.

"We'll speak later, Jon... This time you outdid yourself, although it doesn't mean that everything is forgotten," said Shiera, vainly revelling in the looks of envy from the women gathered.

"And once again, Jon escaped his punishment", muttered Robar angrily though thinking he could perhaps claim some jewels for his wife.

"Truly, how does escape each time?" Loras groused indignantly.

"If you truly want to know my brothers, I took Elendur's words to heart," Jon said, glancing at the old Prince.

"Me?" asked the prince innocently.

"Yes, the night that the Lady Galadriel and I returned to Annúminas after our journey to Dorwinion, you spoke words of great merit," said Jon, and then Elendur laughed, recalling his words.

"It's true; women like gems and precious metals very much regardless of their lineage, age or wisdom," said the young Prince of the Dúnedain while the women blushed and cast down their eyes.

"Son… Enough" laughed Isildur.

"I would heed your father's words Elendur, lest you end up as the fool you admire so greatly," said Glorfindel wistfully and 

All the Ladies glanced at Jon at that moment with reproach, not merely for the fact he had given Shiera such treasures but also for the japes made at their expense.

The Lady Írimë then stepped forward and pinched his cheek angrily, and she wasn't alone as Arianne, Daenerys, and Arya came forward and pinched him as well until, at last, Jon's cheek was purple and bruised.

"That was uncalled for", growled Jon indignantly, but his loves said nothing and merely giggled at his misfortune.

"You brought this folly on yourself, Baelon, oh, my foolish grandson, every time I think you've grown up… Oh, you make a fool of yourself… When are you going to grow up?"' Rhaella said to herself, slapping her forehead

"That is a question we may never have an answer to," said Galadriel haughtily, pleased that her wolf had gotten his comeuppance.

"This isn't over," Jon growled angrily.

"Of course not, you've given Shiera great treasures… So, it's only fair that you should give us such things as well," said Dany angrily. 

"It's true dear brother… You gave this greedy fool exquisite jewels… you must compensate us as well," Rhaenys demanded with anger.

"Damnable slattern!" cried Shiera angrily, displeased that Rhaenys would turn on her so quickly, though as they argued about the whys and wherefores of the allotment of loot, the men chatted among themselves about their brothers' misfortune.

"What amazes me is the swiftness with which Jon prepared those treasures to appease Lady Shiera's wrath", Robar muttered to Loras and Isildur, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, usually he forges these kinds of trinkets after snubbing them," Loras said without paying much attention.

"And what do my Lords think?" asked Isildur, secretly hoping that Jon perhaps had some jewels stashed away so he might soothe his wife's anger for not aiding her earlier.

"That he shall have others treasures on hand," said Robar with a wide grin.

"What does that mean?" Loras asked, and Robar wanted to slap him.

"That Prince Baelon surely has more treasures with him…." Prince Elendur guessed right away.

"Yes, that's what I think, Jon loves to sample and work with many sorts of metals as the Dwarfs do, so it's not strange that he has created pieces like this... Yet the most intriguing notion is that Jon had these pieces in his keeping in case he committed any... Indiscretion and needed to calm the wrath of his Ladies…." Robar continued.

"Certainly, Jon will have created more pieces like these, and he will surely have them hidden among his things…." Loras concluded, gleaning the truth of Robar's words.

"That's perfect… Thank you, my Lords; I will have to negotiate with your brother-in-arms before he departs," Isildur said happily, knowing that he would be able to calm his wife.

Though it was at that moment, Arianne managed to snatch her husband away from Írimë and embrace him sweetly, batting her eyes and cooing sweetly.

"Arianne…" Finwë's daughter said with cold and almost silent fury.

"I hope you learn your lesson, Jon… I want a silver bracelet in the shape of a viper with ruby eyes," said Arianne ignoring the discontented elf.

"Aaahh… the Westerosi are truly lively," Glorfindel said wistfully.

"The passage of time is a bitter pain for us, but thanks to The Valar, there are things that never change," said Círdan with a large grin.

"Of course, my viper... we shall speak more on the matter when I return," said Jon and Arianne smiled before laying a kiss on his cheek.

"You'd best remember that promise, Jon, or I fear you shall greet Mandos before your time," 

"That I will do, my Lord… And returning briefly to the matter of my horse, I shall be happy to put him out to pasture as we have for Ghost though I must beg for permission from the Lady Galadriel, for it is her mare Calithiliel that has enchanted him so," said Jon haughtily and Galadriel reddened once more it seems her wolf had grown far bolder as of late.

"You will pay for your words, my Wolf; I swear to you, Baelon…." Galadriel groused, displeased by her husband's pride.

Jon laughed. "We'll see my sweet Galadriel… We'll see," 

"Yes, we will, my foolish wolf..." Galadriel answered, promising revenge.

"I have no concern with Calithiliel's siring mounts for the men of Westernesse though whether she accepts a horse such as Lòmerocco is another matter entirely," said Galadriel 

"I thank you for your generosity, Lady Galadriel. It is an honour without equal to possess such noble steeds," said Elendil, bowing low.

Galadriel smiled graciously though she was needling his mind relentlessly; fortunately, Jon could bear her anger, for his mirth was too great.

"Then it seems to me that we no longer have anything to talk about," said Gil-galad good-naturedly.

Isildur faced his sons and spoke sternly, "Aratan and Ciryon… princes though you may be, behave yourselves and do not cause problems as the Dwarves do not readily forgive slights," he said. "And if possible, try to return before the Eruhantalë," 

"Don't worry, Nin Mel… I'll make you another strawberry cake before you leave", Lalwen promised, and Jon happily lifted her off the ground and twirled her around, much to the jealousy of the others.

"Thank you, my beloved sunflower... "Jon said, caressing Lalwen's radiant tresses, much to her delight.

"Try to return as swiftly as able, my dragon... You know that of the Three Prayers to Eru celebrated by your people, the Eruhantalë has become my favourite", Lalwen said, kissing him tenderly.

And she spoke truly Lalwen adored the Eruhantalë, while Galadriel's favourite holiday was the Erukyermë which Jon found odd since the rest of his loved ones favoured the Erulaitalë.

"Loras and Robar... You have experience dealing with the Dwarves; aid Jon in gaining an acceptable accord with the Dwarves, and if King Durin is disgruntled or in any way displeased, do not further his ire," said Elendil, his voice grave and powerful.

"As our King orders," Robar and Loras intoned, bowing low.

"It seems now is the perfect time to seek out Deathclaw, as I doubt Lòmerocco would forgive me if I spoiled his courtship," said Jon cheerily as he perceived Galadriel's' embarrassment.

"Better to let the courtship of those marvellous horses continue," Loras said, shrugging his shoulders, unable to contain the emotion to claim a foal descended from Nahar.

A sentiment shared by the many warriors present.

"Well… Then prepare to leave, and when you return, you will be received with honour and, in Jon's case, a well-deserved rest before he is put to work fortifying the valley," said Elendil heartily.

Jon nodded and bowed to his King, making to depart the hall to prepare for his journey and to deal with another matter, Sansa and Arya. He had already made his decision, yet it filled him with doubt; he hoped he was doing the right thing… But first, he must make ready to treat with the dwarves, yet as he neared the door, he remembered Lord Elrond's request when they both went to breakfast.

"And Lord Elrond, I have not forgotten your request, my Lord…" Jon said with a mysterious smile on his face to the amusement and surprise of the Lord of Imladris.

"Request?" asked Celebrían happily.

"Something that your husband asked of me, my Lady... It will be a pleasure to create something for you," said Jon, bowing to the Lady of Imladris, who was grinning ear to ear.

"What are you planning, my Wolf?" Galadriel asked mistrustfully.

"Just to fulfil a request from your dear son-in-law, my beloved Star…." Jon replied, amused, struggling to hide his thoughts, though she perceived this readily and frowned.

"I hope so, my foolish Wolf, if you should hide something from me again…" said Galadriel, but Jon easily perceived the unspoken threat.

"Yes, yes, I know, don't worry about my Star, I already learned my lesson…." Jon assured.

"Very well, take care, my beloved fool and don't worry about Elendil's gift. It shall be safe in my keeping," Galadriel promised, her voice haughty and bold. 

Jon snarled. "This is not over, my sweet Galadriel..." he said. "I shall have my satisfaction someday."

Galadriel laughed. "Enough, Jon, you have lost; it is better that you accept it, or else you will force me to punish you as those Princesses did…." 

He frowned. "Is that a challenge, my beloved Star?" said Jon. "Well, I won't forget it… Mmmm, perhaps I should fashion something for Írimë as a token of my esteem and for her cakes." with that, he departed Elrond's study leaving his star flushed and vexed/

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

Later

It was already night in Imladris, and a frigid wind crept down from the mountains though the worst of the chill was kept at bay by the vast number of bonfires that dotted the valley and above, the Stars burned pale and radiant, casting a silvery glow upon the Valley.

"Ah, they are wonderful… In Imladris, the stars are brighter than in Home," Sansa said, admiring the clear sky from her balcony.

"Oh, for the Valar's sake, close the damned shutters; it's freezing outside", grunted Arya, stepping out of the bathroom.

"You should see the stars, Arya; they are beautiful," said Sansa wistfully.

"I saw the stars many times on our journey here; now I want to finally sleep in a soft bed after weeks of sleeping on the floor," Arya said, putting on a delicate silk robe.

"You're missing it, sister… But it's indeed getting cold out here," Sansa said gloomily before fixing her robe and closing the windows.

"I don't understand; why must they always give us shared rooms? I want my own," Arya growled, beginning to comb her wild mane though Sansa scoffed and took the brush from her and set about removing the many knots in her brown tresses.

"You should take better care of your hair, Arya... It's a mess," Sansa said reproachfully, continuing to brush her sister's hair.

"Hush," said Arya, embarrassed.

"I'm almost done… Jon is going on another trip," Sansa said sadly, 

Arya frowned and held back tears. "I know... That fool wouldn't deign to look at us..."

"Many things have happened; Jon didn't even know he was leaving. The task of Kings Elendil and Gil-Galad come swiftly," said Sansa coldly, still brushing her hair.

"That doesn't matter; as always, he let himself be captivated by his elves and gave gifts to others... He ignored us again," Arya cried resentfully.

"Why should I love that fool?" She loved him fiercely despite all that happened, but he didn't desire her or Sansa... The proof is that he hadn't even seen them since they both confessed their love for him.

"I'm done, Arya..." said Sansa laying the brush on the vanity before lying on her bed.

"I'm weary..." Arya said, beginning to close her eyes, but they heard the sound of knocking at their door.

"Who will it be at this hour?" Sansa asked, puzzled.

"Oh, by the Valar", Arya growled, furious that they had interrupted her sleep. Swiftly getting up from the bed where she and her sister slept, she took off her robe and put on an ash-grey nightgown and went to the door of her solar without asking who it was; she opened it, surprised to see who stood in their doorway.

"Arya… Did I wake you up?" asked Jon eagerly.

Seeing the object of her love looking at her for the first time since she and Sansa confessed their love for him, she lost her voice.

"I can pass?" Jon asked warily, and Arya shook her head and did not answer, looking to Sansa, who nodded in approval.

He entered and then swiftly barred the door, much to Arya's shock

as she went to the side of her sister, who wrapped herself in the blankets as they were only wearing nightclothes.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, staring at them after a few moments of silence.

"Why?" asked Sansa, her voice quavering terribly.

"For not speaking to you all day, this journey to Khazad-Dûm… I didn't foresee it, but it can't be delayed, cousins; we must start readying for war," said Jon regretfully.

"What are you doing here?" Arya growled, not in the mood for riddles.

"I came to talk…." Jon answered.

"About what?" Arya persisted, and Jon smiled at her vexation.

"You know… I don't wish to waste what time we have, or the hurt shall only grow," said Jon gravely, she attempted to retort, yet Sansa stopped her.

"This is Jon…" Sansa said, steeling herself though her resolve withered when Jon smiled wistfully, and at once, her heart was thudding as hooves.

"Your confession, my cousins, it struck me fiercely to know all could see your love for me save myself," said Jon apologetically.

"Oooh…" Sansa said, lowering her gaze.

"Silly…" Arya said, blushing fiercely.

"And I haven't forgotten your words... though I do not know how to feel," Jon said, swallowing hard.

"Why have you come, Jon?" asked Sansa, eyeing him questioningly, her eyes glittering as the stars.

"I don't know…" Jon whispered. 'Truly, I don't know, for the heart doesn't do business like the head.' 

"So?... "Arya asked, staring at her cousin.

"I think coming here was a mistake… I'd better go," Jon replied, rising to his feet, but he felt them grab his wrist.

"No!" They yelled at the same time.

"Don't you see this… This… No, it's not right," said Jon though there was little resolve in his words.

"But you feel something..." Arya said confidently.

"Otherwise, you wouldn't be here," Sansa seconded.

"I only came to... speak. I don't want to hurt either of you... I am a lustful fool... Your beauty is so great that it tempts me, it's true... Though a part of me recalls the lasses you were when I fled Kingslanding so long ago…" said Jon wistfully, yet Arya was having none of it and threw him on the bed before straddling him.

"Arya!" cried Sansa surprised by her sisters' boldness.

"I grow tired of your miserable excuses, cousin... You have the love of several women... so what is two more to that happy nest?" Arya growled, eyes shining with lust.

"If we do this, there will be no turning back... Do you understand?... We can never again see each other as siblings..." said Jon, and for a moment, a shadow of doubt came over Arya, yet Sansa seized her opportunity pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"Sansa..." Jon groaned, surprised by her courage.

"Sansa!" yelled Arya. 

"I don't care what you say... I've loved you for more than a century... I want you, my foolish cousin," said Sansa paying no heed to Arya and kissing him once more

After several minutes, Sansa rose from the bed and unlaced the sheer robe until, at last, it fell away, and her beauty was revealed proudly.

"She's fair as a winter rose," Jon thought, mesmerised by his cousins' beauty.

Sansa was truly a beauty to behold; She was tall and buxom, with wide hips and ample bosom; her tresses were a rich autumn auburn, her eyes blue as the boundless sea fey she seemed, or perhaps a spirit of the rivers come to ensnare him with some spell.

"It is no small wonder she had so many suitors in the North and South?" Jon thought, enthralled by his cousin.

"I… I'm sorry if I'm not as lovely as the Ladies Galadriel and Írimë…." Sansa murmured sadly, but he silenced her.

"You're beautiful..." said Jon, kissing her and at last, a love that had been planted many long years ago blossomed fiercely and gloriously.

"Lady Catelyn must be cursing my soul to the sevens hells by now!" Jon thought, as he continued kissing Sansa. It was then he heard the ripping of buttons and knew Arya had ripped away his shift; she ran her hands over his chest, peppering his neck with kisses.

"I haven't forgotten you, little sister... But you must wait your turn..." Jon thought; after several moments, he rose from the bed and before the lustful eyes of his Sansa and Arya removed his breeches, leaving him naked as the day he was born.

"It's so big," Sansa muttered in awe, staring at her cousin's cock in awe.

"Aye, how can I help myself when faced with such a fair maiden? Go on cousin, you desired my touch for so long now, come and claim it," growled Jon passionately.

Sure enough, Sansa wrapped her delicate hands around his cock, slowly at first, yet his groans of appreciation filled her with joy, and soon Sansa was stroking him at a swift pace; all the while, Arya watched, hoping it would be her turn soon.

Pushing aside her embarrassment, Sansa began to lower herself to lick the head of his cock at Arya's excited and expectant gaze. But both Stark women were disappointed when Jon reached down to pick her up before she could go any further.

"There will be time for that; now comes your pleasure", Jon whispered, his eyes alight with lust. 

She blushed mightily and nodded, laying on the bed and bearing her maidenhood to him.

"Make certain to tell me if you're hurting Sansa. I wish to make this a night to remember," Jon instructed as he parted her nether lips and sank into her warmth.

"Yes, don't worry... Take me, my beloved Wolf," Sansa moaned lustily, her heart aflame with passion.

"We are Wolves, and wolves couple for life…" Jon swore.

She felt his cock slide into her, and with a swift thrust, he had broken her maidenhead. She thought to cry, yet her pain was forgotten as he kissed her tenderly, passionately; her heart thundered in her ears. Jon was careful not to cause her discomfort, slowly thrusting until he was fully inside her.

For a few moments, he didn't move; their eyes met, and she knew she would never be alone again; he leaned forward, and they kissed passionately, and Jon started to thrust back and forth. She felt the heat of his manhood burning inside her, and she howled in love.

"You're so deep, Jon." She groaned; her cheeks flushed. She was breathing heavily now as the feeling of pain subsided; reaching forward, she kissed him once more as their bodies moved in unison. Jon's thrust became swifter, and she was overcome by the pleasure. As he thrust, he sucked upon her bosom and peppered her neck with kisses; her beloved's tongue felt hot and wet against her breast. Their moans and wails echoed throughout the room as he made love to her with strong strokes, their bodies intertwined in a passionate heap, her toes curling and uncurling as they made love just as she had dreamed for so many years. With every thrust, she moaned, and Jon was nearing his end.

"You feel so good, Jon. we were made for each other." She purred.

"Aye, Sansa, you are mine, and I am yours." He growled as he sped up his thrusts once more; truly, she was drunk on passion. Jon ploughed her maidenhood like a wolf in heat as she revelled in his warmth. She howled and moaned endlessly as Jon made love to her; she was hoarse, her bosom peppered with love bites, and her breath ragged as her beloved cousin took her as his wife.

"Jon! Jon!" She yelled as his thrust were swift and filled with passion. She wrapped her arms around him, her nails leaving trails of fire across his back as her legs wrapped around his waist. Truly her cousin was blessed as his stamina seemed endless as he began peppering her neck and breast with kisses. She wailed in pleasure as she held him close, their minds clear of all but the love they shared; at last, she could feel the warmth deep in her belly and the swell of Jon's manhood.

"Oh, by the Valar, Jon!" she howled, her maidenhood clenched around Jon's cock as his essence was spilt inside her. It felt warm inside her, filling her with a wondrous warmness.

She slid off his cock and lay beside him, face reddened, hair a mess and beaming merrily. She thought to say something, but Arya spoke first.

"It's my turn", growled Arya 

"Of course," Jon said, noticing his cousin had already undressed. 

Like Sansa, Arya had flowered into a fine woman; only a head shorter than him, she was muscled and slender with small breasts and wide hips, and her tresses hung loosely about her shoulders brown as oak.

"You're beautiful, Arya..." Jon said, getting up to caress his cousin's face, making her blush.

"Jon… Make me yours," Arya said bashfully.

"Come to me, Arya", said Jon tenderly, and she rose to meet him. 

"No other man has proven worthy of me save you," Arya said, and before he could speak, she went to her knees and took his cock in her mouth in one swift motion.

He moaned as running his hand through Arya's brown tresses, begging her to swallow more of his cock.

Does that feel good, Jon?' Arya moaned as she peppered his shaft and head with kisses. 'Come, Jon, fill my mouth with your warm seed and then take me as a wolf would his queen till my belly grows heavy with your pups!'

"By the Valar, you are wonderful, Arya," Jon moaned heartily.

 Arya sucked him greedily, moving her head from side to side. Her tongue was lavishing his cock, her tongue caressing his balls and shaft. Then she took him deeper into her mouth, coating his manhood in a sheen of slobber. Arya held herself there, all the while looking up at him, her grey eyes alight with mirth.

"Arya," Jon groaned as he felt his balls churning. He wanted to at least warn her before he spilt. 

His cousin, however, appeared to have other ideas as she took his cock out of her mouth and giggled salaciously. 

"We don't want you spilling your seed swiftly, my love, Arya said boldly. "I've waited near a century to be with you, and I intend to have my fill," 

He growled, laying Arya on the bed. Reaching down, her hand grasped his cock tenderly. His cock barely grazed her maidenhood, and slowly he pushed forward her warm maidenhood; Arya moaned wantonly, the pain unbelievable as her love slowly slid in and out of her pussy.

Jon placed his lips to hers, "I love you, Arya."

Her heart hammered in her chest at those words, Arya wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. As his hard cock slid in and out, her body flushed with the passion of their lovemaking, and she knew Jon truly loved her.

She felt loved and free. Matching his thrusts, her eagerness encouraged Jon, and she felt him give into his lust. His pace became quicker as he pushed into her harder and deeper. The sensations built, and it felt as if her body was aflame.

"Um, oh, Jon, my love, my knight, my big brother." she softly dug her nails into his back. The heat of their passion flooded her being, spreading from her maidenhood, up to her belly, to her breasts, neck and face. Her toes curled and uncurled as she moved to match his thrust.

Jon thrust into her with vigour. Arya's warm cunt embraced him greedily. He felt true bliss; there was nought in the world save for Arya and himself as her maidenhood smothered his shaft pleasingly, his pace quicker now. He wrapped his arms around Arya and buried his head in her bosom, sucking, kissing and nipping; she moaned in surprise as he endeavoured to make up for all the years, she had loved him, to make love to her as she deserved.

After what seemed an eternity, his thrust grew more uneven, his breathing laboured, and both knew they were nearing their end.

Arya moaned; she didn't want him to hold back any longer. "Oh, Jon, make me yours, please I love you, my white wolf, I love you as Yvanna loves Aulë and the Elves love the stars."

Truly Jon couldn't have held back if he wished. It felt wonderful to be with Arya. He slammed into her as she pawed the sheets with such strength her knuckles turned white. Her pussy grabbed at him with each thrust not wishing to let him go. A steady stream of curses left her lips, and she rocked her hips in time with his deep, firm thrusts.

Soon her voice grew hoarse, and she bit her lip to keep her silence. Yet the room echoed with the sounds of their lovemaking. Harder, faster and deeper, she loved him as he did her. 

She gazed into his beautiful eyes and smiled. "Fill me, my love, fill me with your seed, let me bear your children." She felt his cock swelling and hardening as her own orgasm was forming.

Jon thrusts thrice more and howled in pleasure. "Arya!" as he surrendered, at last, spilling himself in her womb. She groaned as the tightness in her belly came undone; her body was aflame as she felt Jon's seed flood her womb; Arya felt him inside her, holding him close as her orgasm filled her with a pleasure wholly foreign but altogether welcome.

She hadn't a clue how long they lay there entwined in love, but Arya did not care as Jon showered her with kisses whispering how he loved her. Then, Jon slid off her and lay between her and Sansa. They looked at each other and smiled, peppering Jon's broad chest with kisses and muttering words of devotion and tenderness.

At that moment, in the heat of passion, the sisters gazed into each other's eyes and to Jon's astonishment, they kissed each other tenderly at first, their eyes sparkling in lust.

"... Sansa…" Arya said lustfully.

"... Arya…" Sansa said in an even tone.

The Stark sisters kissed as lovers, their tongues twirling in a dance of passion, hands roaming onto the other's body; unsure yet certain of what they desired, he watched as Sansa slowly peppered Arya's bosom with love bites, then kissing down her sister's stomach, before reaching Arya's pussy. 

Jon sat mesmerised as Sansa devoured Arya's maidenhood, her tongue flicking her hooded pearl before adding three fingers, urging her sister to cum. Soon the chamber was filled with the sounds of Arya's moans and Sansa greedily eating her pussy like a woman possessed.

Arya was swiftly coming undone, her breathing was laboured, eyes alight with passion, she grabbed Sansa's auburn tresses urging her sisters' fingers and tongue deeper into her cunt. Sansa obliged, pressing her tongue on her sister's pearl and the pace of her fingers. It only took another moment for Arya to reach her peak, locking her legs around Sansa's head as her essence dribbled onto the sheets and her sister's face.

 Sansa parted from her sister and smiled; there was nought to be said as weariness overcame them, and they fell onto the bed on either side of him, each resting the head on his chest. Jon glanced at both of them and smiled, laying a kiss upon their brows.

"Let us rest; we've much to do", Jon muttered happily, only to hear two soft sets of snores.

"And my brothers in arms spoke truly all those who accompanied now hold a place on my heart," Jon thought before falling asleep.

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

Westeros (Oldtown, The Citadel)

The various Archmaesters met in Conclave Council, the room designated for it dimly lit with concern on their faces. All of them were worried about the recent events that were taking place in the seven Kingdoms with a Dragon King once again sitting on the Iron Throne; worse still, regarding his plans for the Seven Kingdoms, it seemed the boy had brought magic to the world once more.

Their secret and discreet attempts, meticulously planned over the centuries, to slay the dragon spawn, and destroy any remaining dragon eggs wherever they were found were at risk of being undone by the new King Aegon. 

"It is as we feared. Magic has returned to the Seven Kingdoms rumours of this Aegon Targaryens sorceries are proof of that," Archmaester Ebrose said with a frown now on his face.

"Something must be done. Our ancestors have not conspired from generation to generation to bring down the dragons only for this new Targaryen King to undo it all," Archmaester Theobald said with uneasiness and hatred in his voice.

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple, my brothers; it seems Marwyn warned him about us and as a result, the King refuses to accept our invitations to the Citadel nor our many gifts," Maester Perestan said as the rest of the Archmaesters frowned.

"Magic is unholy, uncontrollable and not of this world; we should have gotten rid of Marwyn long ago. His fanfare and talk about the importance of magic is heresy against the Order of Maesters," Archmaester Ryam said coldly.

"It's too late for that! We won't get anything lamenting about what we should have done; there is still time to get things back on track and return the Kingdom to the right path. In any case, we are not prepared to strike a blow as we know not where the King's magic comes from; he has no Dragon true, but it is a fact that he possesses great unnatural power," Archmaester Theobald said as Ryam snorted and glowered at Perestan.

"Anyway, we must be quick to dispose of the King; with his uncle Viserys dead and his sister and aunt seemingly kidnapped by a bastard from the North, Rhaegar's son is the last dragon... We must make sure of it; the dragon must not have offspring!" Archmaester Ebrose said placatingly, and the others nodded with mutterings of approval.

"We still have that old Master left in Castle Black…." Archmaester Benedict added.

"Aemon Targaryen does not represent any peril; he is already more than one hundred years old and has lost his sight; he has also been faithful to his vows, let him live his last days on the Wall in peace or as peaceful as it might be in that frozen shit hole," Archmaester Vaellyn said with some sympathy and wished he had pushed harder for one of his men to be appointed to the North.

"Then we must proceed immediately and get rid of the Targaryens, we have all the knowledge in the world, and therefore, the power to shape the world as we see fit. Our Order is the only true power in the Known World… We must never forget that" Archmaester Theobald said, puffing with malice and pride.

"How do you wish to proceed, then?" Archmaester Ryam asked curiously.

"We must be cautious as our Order has existed for this purpose; we obtained and used the knowledge accumulated over the millennia to better protect the kingdoms of men. Kings always come and go. Whether they wage war against each other or rule wisely in times of peace, it doesn't matter," said Archmaester Benedict, gloating at his importance.

"But how?... That Targaryen King is too powerful even without a dragon. It is said by those who fought alongside Mace Tyrell at Storm's End that he can make himself invisible and induce fear and madness in others, control nature..." Maester Perestan began to say but was silenced by a knock on the table.

"We are the cleverest minds in the world, and we know what it takes to keep kingdoms stable regardless of who sits on the Iron Throne. We are the true power of the Seven Kingdoms. We decide which child lives and who dies because it is our right as men of letters and knowledge," Theobald said passionately as if his words had the power to make Aegon bow before them with submission and reverence.

"In any case, our Order is not the only one looking for the head of the new King," Archmaester Theobald said, gaining the gaze of all those present.

"Who else?" Ebrose asked, and Theobald laughed.

"Who else? Namely, the remnants of the Faith of the Seven. They condemn the boy and his mercenaries for the death of the "High Sparrow" and the further dissolution of the Faith Militant simply because he was the High Septon and the sack of King's Landing, also because Aegon used his sorcery they say that the city is filling with demons and evil spirits. As for what the Faith thinks of magic, they agree that it has no business in the world and should have died with the dragons more than a century, and they are eager to finish the job," Theobald said, satisfied with his allies.

"Indeed, it seems the young fool has aroused the ire of the Faith as well allowing foreign theologies into the Capital. Apparently, the King held high regard for the worship of the so-called Lord of Light and permitted them to establish new temples in the Kingdom. It is said that one of his Priests advised the King when he was in exile and now allows them to spread their religion in the Seven Kingdoms naturally, the High Septon is beside himself in a fury, but he has no way to counter the King unless we provide aid," Ryam said happily.

However, unbeknownst to that group of elders, a plump, bald, eunuch, and hooded man had heard the whole plot of those elders; normally, he would have used one of his Little Birds, but many had been lost or grown too old to continue their work, besides this was too important to leave it to other ears.

Varys had returned to Westeros months ago and was removing the stones in Aegon's path, even if no one knew it yet. Aegon's Throne was not secure; these foolish men were proof of that; though it was not to say Varys cared for magic, still a little magic was preferable to utter anarchy.

In many ways, Faith has always been insincere when they spoke of helping others; some were wealthy as lords, dabbled in poisons, some even partook in prostitutes, sometimes guiding wayward girls to the Brothels as some test of the maiden.

Oh, they claimed it was a test of the Seven to see how long the people could take while they tried their best to heal the city. But they were lies. All lies. In truth, the High Septon who died was a prideful, vainglorious fool who had dined upon sweetmeats while others starved.

Not that the Faith was ignorant of this, indeed few cared for the Commonfolk as they were supposed to and merely paid lip service to the tenants of the Seven Although, as they would soon discover, like the Archmaesters, their positions as part of the Seven Faiths to guide the people meant nothing to the dragon, he had groomed for years to bring the Kingdom to peace.

With that in mind and knowing that these fools would spend the rest of the meeting gloating… Varys retreated into the shadows, eager to tell the King of the Maester's plot.

Notes:

thanks to great_red