Chapter Text
107 AC
The boy watched from the balcony as lord Yorbert Royce the lord of Runestone, regent to the lady Jeyne Arryn and lord protector of the Vale was being prepared to be laid to rest.
Mother had denied him from seeing his grandfather when he'd asked. Two weeks ago there was a missive from the Eyrie informing his mother that his grandfather had been ill.....what illness only the gods knew, it was a rapid fever that burned through him in just a day and the very next day his mother had told him that he was now the heir to Runestone. The tears had been endless. Even as a child of nine he'd understood that his grandfather had passed.
His grandfather had been the man he'd loved best , sometimes even more so than his mother and he was sure lord Yorbert never loved anything more than his grandson.....not that he realised this when his grandfather was alive. His grandfather never told to him that he loved him, he could be stern and beat the living shit out of Jon when he was being an airhead, but he always took him with when he went on errands as lord, holding his dainty hand in his massive one, silently proclaiming his pride in his grandson. He was a warm man around Jon, but never treated him soft.
He was pulled from his thoughts when someone smacked him upside the head.
"I told you to stay inside didn't I ?" Said the lady Rhea, frowning down at him.
"I'm only watching grandfather!"
"It's ill luck for small children to see such things Jon" said his mother, trying to explain patiently.
Jon hung his head.
"But I am heir to Runestone now" he said weakly
"...And I am it's lady so you will do as I say. Now go back to your room I will send for you once the burial starts" she sighed " I know it's hard Jon, but please listen this once" her voice cracking.
He didn't dare to look his mother in the face, he knew she was close to tears. He'd been terrified the first time he saw her crying, after his grandfather's body was left alone with the two of them. His mother never cried, she only held him while he cried and fed him courage with her words. She never coddled him, no, but she made sure he knew she would help him if he needed it. Now she was always sad and her voice cracked when they talked about his grandfather.
He turned away and ran to his room hoping not to see her crying....he opened the door to his chambers before going inside and closed it shut, the sound startling the sleeping brown falcon in his silver cage. Artys was a gift to his grandfather for his last name day from lady Jeyne....the falcon was smart and quick, preyed on mice and rabbits around Runestone when Jon let him out his cage once a day. He was well trained by the bird keepers in the castle and was sent back with grandfather's body with an honor guard and men along with his sword 'Lamentation'.
He turned to his bed and flopped down face first on the bed, listening to the sounds of the castle. It was bustling with activity, lords from around the Vale were gathering to pay respects to the old Lord Regent. The Hunters, Belmores, Redforts, the Arryns of Gulltown, Corbays and the Waynwoods along with the vassals of Royce: Coldwaters, Shetts and Tollets had already arrived. The lady Jeyne Arryn being only two years older to him, had also arrived with her household to the funeral. Her chambers were just above his, she had told him. His mother was busy arranging the guests' chambers as befitting their station and listening to their condolences also while sitting in the stonechair and listening to the quarrels of the small folk everyday.
His cousins had all flocked to the castle once they heard news of lord Yorbert passing, bringing their children, some his age and some older....he tried to be friendly at first but it was exhausting because he didn't want to laugh and play when his grandfather had just died. He'd always wanted siblings, the servants and soldiers' children were fun to play with, but he knew they held back in fear of angering him or his mother.
Maester Creyton had taught him all he knew and he was warm enough, but he was no fun. His father.....well, he barely ever saw his father, he knew his parents never liked each other and that he couldn't ask why , they just....didn't get along....
Every year, his father would come to Runestone on his name day, riding his mean red dragon, Caraxes, that growled at him when his father took him flying....not that he hated the dragon, he knew it was grumpy with everyone but his father, who brought him exotic gifts and entertained him for a week or two every year before he grew bored and left for another year to gods know where.
He knew his father was.....odd, Jon had been told by maester Creyton so many times about his birth and how prince Daemon had strapped him to his chest and taken him to king's landing, to present him at court during the great tourney held to mark the old king's 50th year sitting the throne and how he'd boasted of his son before all.....but what the maester wouldn't say, is of how he lost interest in the babe merely a few months after the tourney.
Thinking so much was exhausting. Sleep overcame him and his eyes started to droop. He was about to give in to his tiredness, when he heard a familiar high pitched roar.
Jon jolted awake and ran to the the window, nearly knocking poor Artys and his cage off his stand, to see Caraxes in all his slender glory with his long red neck, flying towards his home, Runestone.