Introduction
290 AC: White Harbour (Jon Snow)
It was a perfect day. That much nobody could dispute. Yet to Jon it tasted as ash on the tongue, for he was imprisoned within the hold of a ship. The sun mocked him, for it was a beautiful day when he arrived with his father, just this morning, as it was now. Not that the world stops for a bastard, Jon thought bitterly. Screaming did naught, for his mouth was gagged, and making sound earned him a heavy hand to his face. Nay, sound helped no one, least of all him. If his face was not already bruised from his capture, it was now.
When he arrived, it was with a joyous disposition, for Lord Stark was taking his sons to the centre of trade in The North! It was also an excuse to escape Lady Catelyn’s icy glares, which had only increased when he had learned what bastard meant the hard way… Best not dwell on iron forged. The Lady Catelyn was a loving woman to her children, and Jon had discovered why he was treated differently than Robb. If one thing was clear now, it was that Lady Catelyn would never be a mother to him, surrogate, or otherwise.
Jon did not know what to think more on, now that he was alone with his fears. Lady Stark’s wrath, or the gag in his mouth and shackles on his wrists? Or mayhap that damn raven… What a fool thing to do, following a talking raven! Jon scoffed, then abruptly remembered something that made his blood run cold. That man’s sigil, it was House Mormont’s! What if Father knows about what I said to Lady Catelyn, and arranged for his bannerman to abduct me! As much as he tried to dissuade the notion, he found it increasingly more likely.
Luckily, or mayhap unluckily, the man once again entered the hold of the ship, this time talking quietly and in a soothing manner that one might mistake him for a loving father. Jon immediately knew the man wasn’t talking to him, and his intuition was proven correct when an orphan girl around Robb's age was escorted in along with who he assumed to be her young brother. When they saw him, they quickly tensed and turned around to find a blocked exit in the form of a man who Jon assumed to be a comrade of the Mormont with a rusty dagger in hand. He watched as the children were quickly seized, bound, and escorted into his cell in such a way that spoke of experience on the men’s part. When his new cellmates entered, they were not without their fair share of bruised faces and teary, hateful eyes. If it ever was, it was most certainly a beautiful day no longer.
290 AC: The Water Gardens (Rhaenys Targaryen)
Oberyn was restless. This knowledge provoked many emotions in Rhaenys, prime among them amusement and fear. At 11 years of age, she considered herself above fear, but she had her relapses, especially in the face of being alone. Ellaria and Oberyn were accommodating to her younger self when she would dream of the sack, and let her sleep in their bed, but the shame still burned within her. As did the sorrow.
During the sack, she was saved by Jaime Lannister who performed unspeakable acts in the name of her safety. Now that he has been dead four years, Uncles Oberyn and Doran have gotten over their dislike, and Rhaenys now didn’t know what to think. Sometimes she would worship him as her saviour, then hate him for his inaction in her mother and brother’s deaths. Jaime Lannister was… complicated. As all people are and have a right to be, she thought. Some might argue that he was a good knight, some might argue he was a bad one, but Rhaenys thought he was too indecisive and innocent for his own good, and that that was his great failure.
All during one day, he killed his king to save a city, killed a child to save another, and lied to a new king. His father was a murdering cunt, his sister was a manipulative bastard, and his brother… his brother was definitely his father’s son, but he loved Jaime Lannister if the diary was true. Though I wonder how far love goes to excuse sin and crime, she thought. Gods I’m starting to sound like Oberyn. This was another fear of hers though she would never admit it.
She only came to her current neutral and detached stance about Jaime Lannister when Ser Barristan and his Knightly Clan came to Dorne for the first time. Four years ago, a few months after Jaime Lannister was found with a rope about his neck in the godswood, Ser Barristan apparently appealed to the King to be released of his vows. This was granted, and Selmy started a quasi-religious order/brotherhood. Many of the highborn had great scorn for it, some had indulgent amusement about it, but Rhaenys thought her uncles were the only ones who were interested in contributing. Now that the Clan was in Dorne, Oberyn was getting restless, and Rhaenys had an idea of what he wished to do next. She saw it in his eyes when Ser Barristan came to Sunspear to ask for entrance to Dorne to “Uphold honour and our sacred Vows.”
Doran, of course, granted his request due to the nature of the Clan’s work which was mostly helping out the smallfolk: assisting with bandits, construction projects, and things of the like.
Oberyn, however, saw another adventure. After court was finished, Oberyn grabbed all of his older daughters and interrogated Ser Barristan about his brotherhood.
Looking back, she now realized that Barristan recognized her, though, at the time, it seemed like coincidence when Ser Selmy gave Oberyn Jaime’s Diary. Stupid, foolish girl. If he knows, who else does? After adequately berating herself, she also abruptly realized that Oberyn was not only restless, but concerned about her and her safety. Regardless of Prince Oberyn’s reputation, they both knew that to kill Barristan the Bold was not as easy as it sounded, both due to politics, and due to the man’s skill in combat. Now, a great fear overtook her. For the Bold to die under our roof would bring dishonour to House Martell, but to let him go would possibly allow him to reveal my identity to the Usurper, even if it is only to remove him from under our roof until he may die in a tragic ‘accident’. Not to mention that his men worship him as they do Ser Duncan and Aegon V.
“Getting restless uncle?”
Oberyn stopped, turned, “Why do you ask niece? What makes you think I am restless?”
“It's not in your nature to be peaceful, I will tell you that much uncle,” Rhaenys said with a twitch of her lips.
“I would have you know that I am plotting my way through a very delicate situation I walked into. I was restless, now I am concerned.”
With that remark, Rhaenys’ smile fell from her lips. “I am sorry uncle, I didn’t think my presence through with Ser Barristan.”
Oberyn gave her an appraising smile, “I didn’t know Doran’s lessons were taking hold in you. I’m impressed.”
Rhaenys gave him a thin smile, “Some of the politics are beyond me, but when it is your life at risk, it would be best to start using your head. Tis a shame I didn’t use it when you and Obara were questioning the Ser about Philosophy and Weaponry respectively.” Oberyn forged many links at the Citadel, and he always said forging Philosophy was the worst decision he ever made. He stopped saying that after Elia and Aegon’s deaths, Doran told her.
“My sweet niece, Elia lives on in your wit.” said her uncle with melancholy eyes and a twisted smile, before he quickly smothered his grief. “Tell me, how would you like to be a squire?” Oberyn asked with a mischievous smile.
Rhaenys felt confused, then realised, “This idea, it's a bad one,” Oberyn’s smile only grew.
Rhaenys sighed, At least I will not be alone again she rationalized.
290 AC: White Harbour (Ned Stark)
With a groan, Ned stood from his chair in the solar of Lord Wyman Manderly. When his back had become so like his father’s he did not know. This must have been what Brandon was trying to escape, he thought with a snort. Duty is like a bitter, poisoned ale. When you have finished, you drop dead, thought Ned with a smile, but what is it that Essosi say? Valar Morghulis. If all men must die, then I will die having done my duty, for freedom is found in the Afterlife. Besides, duty is not all bad, it gave me Catelyn.
With a smile, he started towards the room his sons were housed in. Gods knew he wasn’t spending enough time with his children. Sansa was seemingly being raised by the Septa Catelyn brought with her, as his wife was burdened by her duties and their youngest. After becoming Lord Paramount when Bran and Father died, Ned had been single-minded in his tasks and duties. Rescue Lyanna, kill Aerys, and grieve for his father and brother. Rhaegar complicated matters. Ned at first didn’t know what to think. It was so against what the Prince’s nature was supposed to be, and Lyanna was as skilled as he with the sword. Then he was besotted with rage, for if Lyanna could only be taken by force, and if Rhaegar was as skilled as they said, then Lyanna was most likely being raped, just as Brandon thought. This rage continued until he looked into the dark purple eyes of his nephew and found Lyanna on a bed of blood. “Promise me, Ned, promise me.” Since then he worked tirelessly to do his best at the job he was never supposed to have. Though I never knew the number it would do on my back.
As he rounded the corner, Robb threw himself into him.
“Father, Jon’s missing! He went for a walk talking about one of his dreams and he’s gone. Gone Father!”
Ned chuckled indulgently, but he couldn’t help but feel a touch of fear at the statement.
“Calm down, now. When did Jon leave?” Ned asked, kneeling down to Robb’s level.
“Just this morning after we got here. Jon left because he had a dream about a raven, a grand city, and… um… other things I forgot. He said he was going to find the raven and ask it to speak.”
At this, Ned became concerned. He knew that Jon had strange dreams, but he never took note of them until Jon had told him that a band of Crows were moving south, and that in Wintertown they will shed their feathers for bloodied linen. Sure enough, a group of deserters of the Night’s Watch murdered some men in winter town and stole their clothes. Fortunately, Ned was able to send a raven to Castle Cerwyn to inform them of the deserters. Then he organized a search party with his guards to hunt down the murderers. When they were caught and executed, no longer to him were Jon’s dreams just dreams. In recent years he thought Jon either didn’t have dreams anymore or didn’t share them. Now he knew the truth. Yet it was not only due to this that Ned was concerned, for he had been deep in discussion with Lord Manderly about the possibility of a Northern fleet for most of the day. It was now time for the evening meal, and for Jon to be missing for that long a time… Well, it didn’t bode well.
Ned abruptly stood, turned, then headed back to the solar where he just came from. He would require the resources of his vassal, for he would not abandon Lya’s child.
“Promise me, Ned,”
“I promise,” he rasped. He had to find his nephew, nay, son, for he couldn’t fail once again.
290 AC: Far in the North (Brynden Rivers)
“No!”
As he came out of his trance, Lord Bloodraven began to cry for the first time since the War of the Usurper.
Failure was a sharp blade in the gut, a disease in the blood, and the sting of humiliation deserved. Brynden knew this feeling more than many as tears trickled down his cheek. Failure was all of these things, and one more: unacceptable.
‘A slap to the cheek makes you avoid the next one.’ His mother’s voice came back to him now, even as the shame and guilt consumed him. Wise Aemon always spoke of duty, and Brynden was nothing if not a man of duty. Failure means there is work to be done. Dawn always rises. With a renewed sense of diligence, and the added weight of guilt added to his shoulders, Brynden sent a prayer to the Gods, and went to work.