Chapter Text
Jon
“It’s broken! Father’s going to be so mad!”
“You were the one who said it was strong enough, Egg!”
Jon sighed and looked at the dagger with dismay. The finely carved wood had snapped midway up the blade, making it a mere half-foot long. The blade’s end was in his brother’s left hand, the handle in the other. Egg was more upset than he was, even though it was Jon’s blade he was holding.
“Maybe we could make another,” Egg said plaintively, “then no one will know what hap-“
“I can’t make one, can you?” Jon was still scanning the wood around them to make sure no one was here, that no one had seen. They had snuck from the encampment and guards to play with the dagger. If they were found alone with the broken dagger by anyone from the camp then Ser Arthur would belt them like he always threatened to.
Egg was still talking. He always did that when he was nervous. A king is supposed to talk a lot, this must be good practice.
“I’m not saying we make it, just find someone who can and get them to do it!”
Jon thought about it. “Who? And what will we give them?”
“I’m the prince,” Egg said confidently, “everyone knows a prince always pays his debts.”
“I thought that was a Lannister.”
“If they do it, then princes should too.” Egg held the two dagger pieces out to Jon. When he took them, his brother turned to face the woods, the setting sun lighting the trees around them. “Father said the city is close. We can be back before the sun comes up, no one will know.”
Egg seems excited, even though he was scared a moment ago. Jon still felt nervous as he glanced back towards their father’s camp. Maybe we should just go back. Father might not be so mad. Egg and I could just tell the truth and he would…
Jon’s mind stopped along that trek as Egg turned and faced him. “Well, are you coming or not, Jon?
He’ll go without me if he has to. Jon couldn’t go back and tell Father that he had let Egg wander off alone. Father would be even madder than if they told the truth. And people would only be louder when they whispered cruel things about him.
Jon shook his head, but began walking after his brother.
Egg was always like this- looking for adventure, asking for trouble when there was none close at hand. “The crown prince is bold as a dragon”, courtiers would say with affection, “and fierce besides.” Father would oft agree, saving his praise for when the family came together for meals or journeys.
Aegon was his brother’s proper name, but he insisted that he be called Egg by his family. He fancies he’s the first Egg, wandering into danger with Duncan the Tall. Jon, Egg's sister, and their aunt were the only people who did so. Father and Egg’s mother couldn’t do it, though they tried. Viserys didn’t even try that much, scorning the nickname much as he scorned most things.
The two boys kept walking west. The woods are pretty, Jon thought. The sun makes the trees into gold, and the birds are lovely singers. People often spoke of the beauty of the westerlands, and Jon could see why. Their shoes were covered in dust and mud, so much so Jon wondered if they would make it to Lannisport in one piece.
They had been fine when they first came out here. Egg had convinced Jon to grab the dagger form the saddlebag on his horse, then the two had snuck around the wagon they had been resting in earlier and quietly run into the tree line not ten feet away. No one, not even the Kingsguard, had noticed them leave. Egg had still been laughing when the wooden blade had snapped when he swung it against an oak’s trunk.
Now, here they were, wandering in a western wood, looking for a city near as big as King’s Landing. It seemed nice enough, the warm air making Jon a bit tired, wind blowing into their faces as they walked.
Still, the sun was fading, and the golden light was turning into shadows. “Egg, how are we going to find a city in the dark?”
“The city won’t be dark,” Egg said confidently, “all the people and ships need light even when the sun is down. The city will light the way.”
That made some sense to Jon. Yet that didn’t dispel all of the doubts lingering in his head. “But what if the reavers find us before we get there? Ser Arthur-”
Egg spun around to glare at Jon. “If we act scared of ironmen, then they win! We’re blood of the dragon, we can’t be scared of krakens or their like, especially when they’re causing trouble!”
That was why they were here. Father had told them that he and the men at court had to go west, to stop the ironmen from reaving and pillaging. Egg had Jon had both insisted they come, and their father had agreed. The queen was upset that they were going, while Rhaenys and Daenerys were upset that they were not allowed to come too.
“The ironmen are strong and savage,” Father had told them, “and more cunning then many at court care to admit. You are both too important to risk being taken, so you must always stay close. Understand?”
Jon had not understood. Yes, Egg was certainly important, but most at court did not seem to think that he was. Northern bastard, wolf brat. Those were among the least cruel whispers Jon had heard, and he knew that they had to do with his mother and father. She was dead, though, and father refused to speak of her to him.
He knew better than to ask his father about the whispers. His sister had said as much when he asked her once. “He’s a king, and kings have a great deal to do. Do you really wish to trouble Father with gossip he likely couldn’t care about in the least?”
So the whispers stayed just that. And Jon kept moving.
He was suddenly shaken from his thoughts. More, he was jolted out of them. By Egg’s elbow hitting his stomach.
Jon gasped and clutched at his stomach, bending over as he did. He glanced up to glare at Egg, who was still facing away from him. Did he even notice me walking?
“Egg, why did you stop?” He growled.
“What’s that sound?”
Jon lifted his head and glanced about. All he heard was the wind and the trees it was shaking. He took a breath and turned his head to the side, blocking the breeze from his left ear.
At first, nothing. Then a twig snapped, from their left. He glanced that way, then looked at his brother. Egg seemed more alert than scared, hands balled into fists as he looked in the same direction. He turned towards Jon. “What do you think it is?”
“Maybe it’s nothing. Wood snaps without help sometimes.”
“Maybe. Or its men, or wild beasts.” Egg looked as serious as Father, which seemed impossible. Jon looked at him, then glanced back at the wood as another twig snapped.
Egg grabbed his hand. “We turn around and start running. Find a tree to climb, or something to fight with.”
At that a voice called from the woods, from where the snapping had come from. “You will not go far, lads! Best give yourselves up now and spare us the trouble!”
That voice has an accent. Jon knew all the ways southerners talked, and this was not any of them. For all that, it sounded familiar, though he could not place why.
Egg shouted back, “You leave us be! We are princes of the royal blood and on the way to Lannisport!”
“Lannisport?” The voice was amused, the man behind it no doubt smiling. “You are a way off from there. And princes, out here, all alone? Only a fool would believe that.”
“It’s true!” Jon was still peering through the trees, looking for the speaker, but anger bade him speak. “We are the king’s sons! Now tell us who you are!”
“Who I am? What does that matter?” The voice was quieter now, so much so that Jon could barely hear it. “I am not the one you need concern yourself with.”
Jon was opening his mouth to ask why when he was grabbed from behind and yanked backward. He had time to let out a quick yelp of surprise when a hand came over his mouth. It was covered by leather, a glove muffling the sound it would have made. He heard a yell as just before him a man in a dark cloak seized Egg, covering his mouth much as the other did to Jon.
Terror gripped him as he glanced at his brother. Who are they? What do they want? Why did we come out here? What do I do?
The questions vanished as a third man emerged from where the voice had come from. Lanky, pale brown hair framed a face with sharp features. Blue eyes glanced between Egg and Jon, amusement evident in them. He was a thin man, with a lean frame that was covered in fur and leather. He had a silver buckle on his belt, obscured as it was by a large cloak, black as coal.
Egg had managed to get his mouth free from his captor. “What are you doing here?! Jon, did you tell him we were going?”
“No! Why would I?!” Jon glared as the man started chuckling. “Why are you here, uncle?”
“Who better to track little dragons than a direwolf?” Benjen Stark smiled as the princelings struggled in the arms of the other men. “Jory, you and Ed let the lads go.” The men holding Jon and Egg quickly did so. Jon turned to glare at the young Cassel, who was clearly struggling not to laugh at the princes.
“That’s the wrong cloak!” Egg was muttering as he eyed Jon’s uncle. “Kingsguard are supposed to wear white. If you’d been dressed proper, we’d have seen you.”
“Yes. Which is why I did not dress proper.” Benjen spoke slowly, as if talking to a fool. “The king told me to change my cloak for this task. Though I doubt he expected you to wander so far.”
“He knew we were gone?” Of course he did, Jon realized, Father always knows. “When did you-”
“About five minutes after you left. You boys may be small enough to get around unseen, but you left a trail as obvious as an ox in a hurry.” Benjen had stopped laughing but was still smiling at the boys. “Now then, there’s a certain king who’d like a word.”
Egg and Jon glanced at each other, dismay shared between them. Jon looked at the broken dagger in his belt. “Uh, uncle, we wanted t-”
“We heard that thing snap when it hit the oak’s trunk. Don’t worry, I’m sure your father will forgive you if you beg for mercy.” Jory and the other laughed at that, though Jon thought he saw some of his uncle’s humor fade at that.
“Viserys says dragons never beg,” Egg pointed out, “or kneel or cry. Or anything like that.”
“Your uncle still has much to learn, as do you.” The knight turned. “Now let’s go. Don’t make me tell the lads here to pick you up and carry you.”
Jon and Egg glared at the northman before walking after him. The others came after them, Jory fiddling with something in his cloak. Jon heard a scrapping sound, then new light illuminated the wood around them as the wood in Cassel’s hand alit. The other one held out a torch for him to light, adding more warmth to the air around them.
“You two should consider yourselves lucky,” Benjen drawled as they walked through the wood. “We could’ve been ironmen, here to snatch you up and carry you to the sea as prizes. Or bandits, thinking you nothing more than peasants they could sell to slavers.”
Benjen was always saying things like that, trying to scare Jon and whoever was near him at the time. He had been in King’s Landing since Jon was but a babe, a guest of the king. Some at court had frowned at his closeness to the royal family, but Father had paid it no mind. He wanted me to know the Starks, and Uncle Benjen was the only one in the south.
Benjen had won a knighthood while serving the crown, fighting against some stormlords who had tried to rebel against the king. Then, at the age of twenty-and-two, he had become the newest knight to the Kingsguard, the first of House Stark to ever do so. He had been tasked since his arrival at court with protecting Jon, and the white cloak had proven how much Jon’s father trusted his uncle to do so.
He is good to me, and a friend to all. I hope the others are much the same, but I still don’t know any of the others.
There was Lord Eddard, of course, and his wife, the Lady Tully. They had the two children, a boy and a girl. Robb and Sansa, isn’t that their names? Jon asked Benjen if they were, and his uncle assured him that was so.
“And more besides, if the gods are good.” Benjen sighed, his thoughts clearly with family. “Cat was with child last I heard, due any day now if I remember right.” He shook his head and ruffled Jon’s hair. “But those aren’t things you should worry over. Here we are, off to war, and you want to ask after your kinsman. You definitely have your mother’s blood, Jon.”
“Mother said we wouldn’t see any fighting,” Egg broke in, “but I hope she’s wrong. We could help plan the fighting, or squire for some great knights like Ser Arthur or Uncle Lewyn, maybe ev-”
“Hold there, little dragon. I’ll not lie, the king doesn’t want you boys near any fighting either, but one never knows how wars go. Men plan for all sorts of things, but the gods love to smash those plans apart.”
Benjen grimaced as light began shining through the trees in front of them. “Now, enough of that talk. We’re here, and you’d best have your story straight.”
The encampment was much as Jon and Egg had left it. There was an order to it, the tents arrayed in a rough circle, with men patrolling its borders. In the center sat a large pavilion, its read and black pattern made striking by the torchlight around it. Jon gulped as he gazed at that tent. What will he do when he sees the dagger?
Egg’s hand was gripping his, staring up at the tent. “Don’t worry, Jon. We’re dragons too, he will not forget that, and we cannot either.”
Jon smiled nervously at his older brother. “Right, thanks Egg.”
Benjen entered the pavilion before them. After a few minutes a familiar voice called out, “Enter, both of you!” The two brothers glanced at each other once again, then walked in, side-by-side.
A desk was placed in the center of it all, around which several figures were clustered. A bed lay not far beyond, with scrolls and books laid about the place. The ground was covered in furs, grass sticking out where there were none. Braziers filled the room, the silk allowing the smoke to leave but keeping the heat. It feels like a dragon might like it in here.
Standing around the tents interior were four men. Three wore the enameled armor and white cloaks of the Kingsguard, while the fourth had just the latter to mark his station. Benjen had been quick to discard his black cloak, the milk white fabric clashing with his dark hair.
The others were known to Jon by the sigils on their shields. Nearest to them, at the entrance, was a knight with three bronze spearheads on his shield. Pale eyes looked Jon and Egg over as they passed by him Ser Mandon Moore. The man is quiet, but Lord Arryn insisted that he was a worthy knight. Jon’s father had accepted him, but there was no love between this Kingsguard and the king he served.
The case was different with the two men flanking the king’s desk. A star fell over the sword on one man’s shield, while a great blade sat upon his shoulder. Ser Arthur Dayne nodded at the princes, though his face was largely hidden by the helm he wore. Opposite him stood a man with three wheat stalks on his shield. Ser Barristan stared in to space, eyes fixed grimly on something only he could see.
Sitting at a desk amidst it all were two dragons, not one. The one facing them was larger, and much the friendlier. Father looked tired, like he often did, his crown on the desk by his hand. He smiled to see the two princes though, the light in his eyes chasing the darkness away.
The other dragon had no smiles for them, only a sneer. “Well, I see the wolf managed to find you.” Viserys flicked his hair back, glancing at the Kingsguard who wore no armor. “I had my doubts, but I suppose you must be good at something.” He may have been just fourteen, but the prince could act as pompous as a king when the mood struck him.
“Enough, brother.” Father glanced at him briefly before returning his gaze to his sons. “So, I hear you managed to break your only protection while running about in the wood?”
Jon looked at his feet. He reached into his belt and held up the two pieces of dagger for his father to see. Before either of them could speak, though, Viserys snatched them both from his hands.
“Well isn’t this a sorry excuse for a prize?” He glanced at the king. “A pretty thing, but a toy, nothing more. Why call this protection?”
Rhaegar said nothing, but the look he gave the silver prince spoke volumes. “Viserys, against the wishes of everyone else on the matter, you have been allowed to join me and my sons during this journey and the fight that lies beyond it. The least you can do is not speak so in front of your nephews, who are also the children of your king.”
Viserys bristled but then shifted in his chair as he bowed his head. “Yes, brother.” He turned to Jon and Egg and smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. “After all, the dragons must stand together, isn’t that right?”
He stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll find something meaningful to do elsewhere.” With that, the silver prince turned and left the pavilion, haughtiness pouring from him as he did so.
Jon sighed and looked at his father. “Why did he have to come too, Father?”
“Yes, why?” Egg looked angry where Jon was tired. Even after everything, Egg acts like he has just woken. “He’s mean to everyone, especially to Jon. Why is he here, going on an adventure with us?”
“This is no adventure, Aegon, this is war.” Their father sighed as he glanced down at his desk. “Viserys is of an age to become a squire, and one of the lords who will be leading our efforts has agreed to make him one.”
Jon and Egg glanced at each other, astonished. Who would want to take Viserys?
The king wasn’t done. “Nor is that all. I have received news while you were gone, both good and bad. The latter is that the ironmen have attacked the city we are heading towards. They wreaked much havoc, more than the westerlands have seen in many years.”
“There was a battle? Like during the Rebellion?” Egg was practically hopping with excitement. Jon remained quiet, thoughts going to the people in the city. I hope not too many people were hurt. Where were the guards, the armies? He voiced his last thought, which his father nodded at.
“You are wise to ask that, Jon. The men were deliberately sent away, to make Lannisport a more tempting target. To bait the ironmen into an attack.” Rhaegar shifted in his seat. “Once their fleet had entered and began burning the ships and raiding the harbor, the Lord of Casterly Rock’s son ordered a chain that had been prepared at the harbor’s mouth be raised, to prevent them from leaving.
The Imp thought of something like that? Jon wondered. A great chain? It sounds like something Brandon the Builder would make.
“By the time the ironmen knew what was happening,” his father continued, “Lannister ships had taken position on the other side, and siege engines and archers on the walls attacked the Iron Fleet. Some ironmen tried to fight their way to the gates, but the army returned and pushed them back into the water.”
Egg looked puzzled. “But that sounds like goods news, Father. Why is that bad?”
“Because the ironmen had left a part of their fleet on the sea nearby, and they quickly realized something was wrong. They sailed down and destroyed the Lannister ships, and managed to disable the chain when their men reached one side of the harbor and knocked it loose.”
Rhaegar sighed and turned to look out the pavilion entrance. “A city has suffered great harm, most of our ships nearby are now gone, and the ironmen still have a fleet more powerful than we have yet brought to fight them. That is why it is both bad and good news.”
Egg looked like Mother had just scolded him for sneaking a sweet during lessons. His expression sullen, he kicked at the furs under his feet.
Jon decided he needed a hand. “But there’s still less of them now, right?”
His father looked at him, smiling once more. “Yes, Jon, there are fewer of them. But they will be warier now, and careful not to be tricked again. We did manage to catch two krakens here, so that is something to be pleased about.”
The king’s smile was gone, but he continued. “Also, we have had good news from your uncle, Jon. The northern ships gathered at the Stony Shore have launched, so soon the Lord of Winterfell will join us in fighting the ironmen. With the Redwyne fleet on its way north, our forces will soon be able to reach the Iron Islands and seize the rebels.”
Jon was happy to hear that but was still thinking on the part about his other uncle. Uncle Eddard is coming to help? Maybe that means he and Father aren’t angry with each other anymore. Maybe he can visit King’s Landing.
“I think that is enough for today.” Jon left his thoughts as Rhaegar turned his head. “Barristan, Benjen, see them to their tent. We arrive in Lannisport tomorrow, and they’ll need to be properly rested to face what awaits us there.”
“Aye, Your Grace.” Benjen winked at Jon and Egg. “Come along, lads, past time you got to bed and snored a bit.”
“I don’t snore,” Egg muttered as he turned and started walking out of the tent. Barristan followed, his expression still far away.
Jon made to follow alongside Benjen but glanced behind him as he did. His father was staring at the crown on his desk, a haunted look on his face. Stupid ironmen, stupid rebellion. Look at what it does to Father. It must be very hard being a king.
Even harder when so many people aren’t as loyal as your family.