Jon received an even warmer welcome at the Free Folk settlement than he had gotten at Eastwatch. Tormund as always reached him first and hugged him within an inch of his life. Jon however was more amazed by the greeting he received from Sandor. The man enveloped him in a brief hug, looking a bit embarrassed but doing it all the same.
"Nice to see you, boy." He said his cheeks slightly red, quickly releasing Jon.
"Nice to see you too, Sandor." Jon reciprocated the greeting and looked him over. Gone was the shabby costume Sandor always wore. He blended in with the Free Folk, wearing white and grey furs. He even carried a bow on his back. At first sight, the only items he had kept from his former attire were his boots and his belt securing his familiar weapons. More importantly, he looked at ease once the initial embarrassment from the greeting had subsided. Jon had gotten used to the grim expression Sandor usually sported but now the man looked … happy.
"My you are looking well. I see I don't have to ask whether you are having second thoughts." Jon voiced his approval.
"Not in a thousand fucking years." Sandor exclaimed. "My wife wants to meet you as well. Perhaps later? She is out hunting right now."
"Of course. I look forward to it." Jon promised him readily.
"Dragonrider, come with me." Tormund apparently jealous of the attention Sandor was getting wormed himself between the two of them. "Mance will want to see you, I am sure." He all but pulled Jon away from the large group that had come out to welcome the dragonrider.
Jon smiled and waved at everyone before following Tormund who led the way with big strides.
"Is this the way to Mance Rayder's tent?" Jon asked perplexed at the direction and speed with which Tormund was leading him away from the encampment.
"No, it isn't. I have to show you something first. He arrived at a tent that stood a bit secluded from the others and motioned for Jon to enter.
A redhead was seated inside with a small baby in her arms. "Meet my newest son, Dragonrider!" Tormund's loud voice startled the small baby and it started to cry.
Tormund just laughed and plucked the baby from his new wife's arms. "Come here son. Not every day a Dragonrider and future southern King comes to visit you." And without further ado he placed the squirming bundle in Jon's arms adding, "That is if you have not become the actual King in the short time you were away."
Jon didn't reply straight away. He awkwardly moved the small baby in a more comfortable position in his arms. "Hey there little one. You shouldn't cry with such fine, strong parents to look after you. You'll be big as your father in no time."
He rocked the child gently up and down until it stopped crying and its tiny fingers grasped for Jon's curls. Jon lowered his head a bit to give the baby the opportunity to reach one of his locks.
"Still no King yet, just a Prince. Congratulations Tormund and uh."
"Myra, this is Myra. When she fell pregnant we decided to claim each other." Tormund helped Jon out.
"Congratulations, Myra. It is a beautiful boy you have here. And he looks healthy and strong already. What do you call him?" He smiled at her.
"Thank you, Dragonrider." Myra answered keeping her eyes on her child that was trying to pull one of Jon's curls into its mouth now. "He doesn't have a name yet."
Oh, he has just been born then. How many days ago?" Jon started to ask her, untangling his hair from the baby's tiny fist.
Myra opened her mouth to answer but Tormund interrupted them with his loud voice.
"Fine pair of lungs for one born only a sennight ago, don't you think? He thumped Jon on the shoulder and Jon had to steady himself not to startle to baby too much.
"The Free Folk don't name their children before they are around two years old, my friend."
Jon looked up a puzzled look on his face. "How do you refer to him then in conversation or when you need to address him?"
"Easily enough, everybody knows the son of Giantsbane. But the wife," he looked at Myra with a tender look, "she likes to refer to him as Red Junior for now. I kinda like it."
Myra took her eyes of her son to return Tormund's smile.
Jon still holding the baby who was making adorable cooing sounds looked at Tormund for a clue as to what to do next.
Tormund apparently satisfied with the outcome of the visit promptly took his baby son from Jon's arms, put it in his young wife's arms again and motioned to the opening in the tent. "After you, Dragonrider. Our King beyond the Wall awaits you."
Jon smiled apologetically to Myra, stroked the baby's cheek with his thumb one last time and followed Tormund out.
"How come you never told me before?" He asked Tormund wondering about the strange customs of the Free Folk. As far as he knew, Tormund had fucked a lot of women the last time Jon visited but apparently the man had claimed this one now. He wondered what his friend would have done if several had fallen pregnant at once?
"I did not want to pressure the Gods, Southern King. My first wife died in childbirth and I lost the child she carried as well. If I had told you, chances were I would have had to explain that I lost another child. A man avoids that if it is possible." Tormund was very matter of fact about it.
"All right. But didn't you, I mean when you spent all these evenings with Clegane, didn't you uh," Jon was looking for a term that wouldn't sound offensive but Tormund beat him to it.
"I fucked several willing women, Dragonrider. But they knew I would claim Myra if she birthed a living child. Us Free Folk know how to take our pleasure without siring children." He thumped Jon's shoulder again. "Don't you worry your virgin brain. I claimed her and will be faithful to her now we share a living child."
"I am not uh," Jon tried to explain but once more Tormund interrupted him.
"If you are not, then you sure as hell do not have a lot of experience. I could set you up, you know. Sandor is happy enough with Ygritte. Just say the word." Tormund thumped his shoulder once more. Jon was sure to have a bruise there come morning.
"No thank you. I know you mean well but I sort of have a girl waiting for me in the South." Jon blushed feeling like a green boy compared to Tormund.
"A Southern woman! I hope she has enough temperament to satisfy you. What a waste." Tormund shook his head. "Sure you don't want to learn the difference. You are not claimed yet if it is just 'sort of'. Tormund's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Look who is prejudiced now. Have you even met a single southern woman?" Jon countered although he felt his cheeks were still burning red from embarrassment. "Wait until you meet my dragon Princess, then you will be the one green with envy."
"All right, all right, take it easy. I'll wait until I see the two of you, you know, interact?" Tormund's facial expression and accompanying gesture said more than a thousand words.
"I sure as hell hope not," Jon muttered quietly to himself but Tormund must have heard because he guffawed.
"Come on little dragonlover, let's not keep our King waiting any longer than necessary.
***
His conversation with Mance Rayder had been pretty straightforward. Orell had been present and was visibly relieved to see Jon the Skinchanger return. The warg told him some the latest scouting news. The enemy had split up. Half had retreated further North to where Orell couldn't follow for some reason. Perhaps Jon might want to give it a try? The others were slowly moving south carrying a few rafts. They had only started out two days ago and did not seem in a hurry. At the rate they were travelling it would take them a moon at least if not a moon and a half to reach the place where they planned to fight them. Unless they changed direction for some reason, the army of the dead were headed for Hardhome or Eastwatch and not for the Free Folk Settlement here or Castle Black.
Mance was monitoring the situation at Hardhome closely. Messengers were travelling to and from and Orell guided birds there if he was not scouting. The traps they were setting up on the terrain north of Hardhome should lure the army of the dead towards the location the Free Folk had chosen. It was a large clearing far enough from the Hardhome settlement with the sea on one side, a forest they could set afire on the other side and a large frozen lake ideally placed to keep their frontlines separate from the enemy.
The plan was to lure the enemy on the ice and have the dragons melt the borders so the dead would be trapped on an island of ice. Once they had them cornered, the dead would either fall through the ice when their combined weight would cause the crust of ice to crack or they would be sitting ducks for the dragonglass arrows that would be fired at them and for the dragonfire that Jon's dragons would be reigning on them as he flew patterns over the lake. There was still time to put in place contingency plans. But first they had to be sure that the enemy would stay on course and were indeed headed in the direction of the location they were preparing near Hardhome.
Jon worried about the rafts Orell had mentioned. The wights he had killed before had all seemed mindless puppets. Carrying rafts meant they had some sort of plan. Perhaps the White Walkers could think and strategize? If that was really the case then they would have to be cautious. If the enemy could make plans and they somehow knew they were about to face dragons and dragonglass, perhaps they could come up with countermeasures. Jon would debate some more on that. For now, he made plans with Orell to scout the next morning.
Mance also explained to him all the progress they had made to secure their own settlement. The traps, the concealed ditches and the battle plans should an attack come to them unexpectedly. Two wagons were on their way to Eastwatch to fetch the promised dragonglass weapons. Mance estimated they would be back here in six days.
Jon cautioned them not to wander past the enclosures of the settlement without dragonglass weapons. Then Jon handed the King beyond the Wall a fine dagger of dragonglass that Gendry had custom made especially for Mance. The King beyond the Wall cut himself when he found the edges sharper than expected. Tormund took his own dagger out to compare them. The difference was astounding.
"The newly mined material is far superior to the ones we created from the older pieces we melted down." Jon explained. He turned to Tormund. "You should have taken one from the bag I brought with me from Castle Black the previous time I visited. Don't worry though. Soon a wagonload will arrive with weapons of the same quality Mance just received. You can have your pick then."
Shortly after, Tormund left the tent to return to his new wife. Jon used the opportunity to ask Mance and Orell what the customs were when a couple had a new child.
"I didn't know he was about to become a father. I didn't bring anything. Will he expect a gift?"
"Not necessarily. We do not bring gifts, at least not in the way they do south of the Wall." Mance smiled at Jon to reassure him.
"The Free Folk just watch out for each other. If they see someone struggling, they help out. For example, if the mother gets little sleep because the baby cries a lot, the neighbouring women will visit and tell her what a cute baby she has and over the course of the conversation they will plead to be allowed to keep it company for a while. That way the mother gets the needed rest without losing face. If they need extra clothing, someone might ask them if they would be willing to take some items off their hands that their children no longer need since they've grown out of them and that are just a burden to keep around. Things like that. We are a proud people. Parents want to prove to the community that they can provide for their own offspring."
"So Tormund will not expect anything from me? I do not want to offend him by not giving him the attention he is due." Jon rather liked the ways of the Free Folk. He only asked again because the last thing he wanted to do was offend his friend because of his ignorance.
"Just toast to his new-born son's health each time you have the opportunity. Tell him such a strong son will bring him good luck and that you will follow his progress with interest. That will be appreciated." Orell suggested.
"Thanks Orell." Jon stood up, surmising the interview was at an end. "Could you show me where Sandor Clegane's tent is, please?"
"Of course. I'll walk with you." Orell got up from the ground as well.
"Wait, Jon." Mance rose to his feet and approached him. "Aren't you wondering whether we kept our word and went back to Craster's Keep after you left?"
Jon studied Mance. "I didn't think I needed to." he replied evenly. "But now you have made me curious. Can you tell me if Craster gave you much trouble?"
"We did as you asked, Dragonrider." Mance used the title that Jon had acquired amongst the Free Folk. "We gave the man a choice. Let the women who opted to leave him do so willingly or face our wrath. He reacted as expected. We burned his body afterwards."
"And the women and children?" Jon asked.
"Their rescuers convinced them to come live with us. There were about twenty five small children included and we have allowed them their own tents. Several of the women have already chosen a man. Most of the men who took part in the rescue mission have found a grateful wife. I foresaw this of course and sent ten single men of all ages on your quest. A few of the women are traumatised and I have ordered the men to leave them alone for now. They know better than to disobey me. They are allowed to go near the women who make overtures and leave the others alone. So far, nobody has reported anything untoward. I even let Orell spy on their tent a few times."
"I'm grateful, Mance. What of those who are with child or had little children with them?"
"They were the first ones to find a new husband." Mance looked at him as if he were dumb. "We cherish new life here north of the Wall, Jon Targaryen. You still need to learn a lot about our ways. Children are precious, they are the promise we will endure at least one generation more."
"The women who remain single have been given chores and are being integrated in our community though that means. In a few moons most of them will have become true spearwives. They are all very willing to learn how to defend themselves against men. We will teach them our ways. I hope that when they become aware it is left to them to steal a husband, that it will empower them and eventually they too will be ready to start a family. You see, all in all, I was only too happy to accede to your request."
"Thanks, Mance. No matter your other motives, thanks for saving them when I asked. You are a great ally." Nodding one last time at Mance Rayder Jon left the tent with Orell at his heels.
"Sandor seems to be settled in all right." Jon's statement was voiced more as a question.
Orell was doing his best to navigate between the tents and guide Jon to his destination without having to stop at every tent because everyone vied for the Dragonrider's attention. Despite these distractions, his voice sounded sincere when he complimented Clegane.
"It is amazing how easily he adapted to our ways. He often is the first one to help others out. The children all like his rough way of speaking. They seek him out to learn new words and he never gets offended when they laugh with him. He seems to understand they mean no harm and it is just harmless entertainment for them."
"The newest word they learned is 'twat'." Orell laughed when he added that last bit.
"I met Sandor when I had celebrated no more than ten namedays. I remember being fascinated by his speech patterns." Jon reminisced. Both men exchanged smiles.
"And Ygritte," Jon asked. "What is she like?"
"Ask her yourself" Orell said. "That is our way. We try not to give our opinion of others. Everyone has the right to live his life his own way. That is, as long as you do not harm or hurt others and give as much to the settlement as you take from it. I probably said too much about Clegane already."
"That is an honest and simple way of living in a community. No wonder Sandor likes it so much here."
"Well, here is where I leave you. Sandor's tent is the bigger one on your right. Will I see you around the campfire for supper?" Orell seemed eager to take his leave.
"I think so, unless Sandor has other plans. In that case we will see each other tomorrow morning. Thanks Orell. See you." Jon smiled and walked in the direction of the tent.
Standing in front of the entrance Jon stopped, debating on how to announce himself. You didn't just barge in on a newly formed couple.
"Go on in then." Jon startled when he heard Clegane's rough voice. The man stood behind him a twinkle in his eye.
"Nobody to watch your sorry ass, kid? I could have fucking killed you. Didn't you use to have some damned fine guards? The fucking best in the entire realm at one time?" Sandor mocked him.
"I did. Can't seem to keep some," Jon pushed his finger in Clegane's chest to make his point. "The others can't keep up with me and my dragons."
"I just wanted to take you up on your invitation and get you up to speed with what's been happening south of the Wall. But most of all I wanted to hear you tell me some more details about your first moon in your new life. You are not that great a correspondent."
"And about my contacts with Castle Black and Eastwatch, I reckon you will want to know about those too? Let us get inside then and I will tell you all you want to know. Perhaps not fucking all though, I won't tell you a thing about the actual fucking." Sandor grinned when he pushed a blushing Jon inside so the young man could greet his wife.
***
The next morning Ygritte and Tormund walked Jon to the spot where his dragons were waiting for him. Jon had spent a nice evening getting to know Sandor's wife. She was pretty even though she was not a great beauty. She had a fiery temperament and seemed to have a genuine soft spot for his friend. They seemed very happy, sat close together and touched each other frequently. Some of the gestures were a bit too intimate for Jon, not yet familiar with the uninhibited ways the Free Folk showed affection in their own homes. Within the confines of their tent anything goes, even if they had visitors, Sandor had explained, enjoying Jon's growing embarrassment when his hand had disappeared under the furs that covered Ygritte's lower body and Jon could imagine where he was rubbing his wife when the fur shifted a bit in a tell-tale spot.
And even if she might have flirted a bit with Jon at times, it was all just innocent admiration for a handsome young man and famed Dragonrider. The Free Folk were free in their expressions and not as prudish as southerners were wont to be. And if Jon was not yet used to their ways, he did like most of them. He could bask in the bit of flirting knowing nothing would come of it since Ygritte was entirely devoted to her new husband. Sandor once or twice gestured Jon just to let her be when she was once more giving him adoring looks. All in all they had spent a lovely evening together that ended with Jon promising Ygritte to show her the dragons up close the next morning.
***
The dragons had given Ygritte and Tormund a small air show when the tree humans neared the clearing where they were set to depart for their scouting mission. Ygritte waved enthusiastically when Jon finally took off. Jon waved back at the couple that watched him leave standing close together. Jon last image of Sandor was with the man's left arm firmly fixed around Ygritte's slim waist.
Orell would fly to Eastwatch to deliver a message from Jon to Gendry also containing a few words from Mance Rayder for the Garrison Commander, then he would fly along the coastline to Hardhome to monitor the progress of the defences and traps that were being built. Finally he would fly further north to look for the army that was headed their way. If all went well, Jon would have returned from his mission to the higher North and would come looking for the marching dead as well. They had agreed to look out for each other there.
Rhaegal and Viserion picked up speed and flew north at an amazing pace. Still it was almost dark when they reached the spot Orell had warned him about. Just as in his vision, Jon could not fly over a certain area. The dragons were reluctant to investigate. He could feel their uneasiness. Experiencing their discomfort made Jon somewhat nauseous. They circled around the barrier once. Rhaegal's and Viserion's fire bounced off it. Jon persuaded them to try and fly over it one more time which only succeeded when they flew very high up. Again their dragonfire bounced off of something so they knew for sure the place was protected by a kind of invisible dome. The ominous feeling grew the longer they stayed near it.
Not able to find a way in, they left the place behind and flew south again to find the other half of the wight army, the part that was on the move. Darkness fell fast however and Jon spotting a large cave, decided to rest and resume scouting in the morning. Only now that his heartbeat and that of his dragons was slowing down, did he realise how strange they all had felt and what a terrifying experience it had been. The dragons were glad their ordeal was over.
Their findings confirmed a part of Jon's visions? The area was cordoned off by a magical barrier. The White Walkers had a sanctuary. He had looked for the distinct figure he had seen in his vision but he had not been able to discern anything from the large distance they had been forced to keep. Even his spyglass had not been strong enough to help him spot the detail he had been looking for.
The next morning he quickly completed the last part of his scouting mission. He flew high over the moving enemy and counted the number of White Walkers that accompanied the army of wights. The dead were too numerous so he counted only a fraction of them and then tried to imagine how many times he needed to multiply that number to have a reliable estimate of the amount of wights. He reckoned there were about fifty thousand dead shapes coming towards them, most were human remains but a lot were dead animals. He had never seen anything like it. They were only carrying five large rafts. But more importantly, they were still on course for Hardhome or Eastwatch. He encountered Orell's eagle in the air and together they flew back to the settlement. Rhaegal and Viserion relaxed, glad to be heading south again and often slowed down to play in the air so Orell's eagle could keep up. As a consequence they only reached the Free Folk settlement of Mance Rayder just before dusk.
That night, Jon wondered about the significance of what he had seen. Of course he had known that White Walkers were magical since they could raise the dead and control them, hundreds or even thousands at the same time. But the place he had seen far north was something else. He was sure very strong magic was needed to create such a strong wide barrier. If the enemy stayed there, how could he ever defeat him? Even if he really was this Prince or whatever Who Was Promised, how could he defeat an enemy he could not get close to?
The next day he met briefly with Mance and Tormund one last time before his scheduled departure for Castle Black. Since the attack would almost certainly take place on the east coast, Mance promised to send a large contingent of fighters to Hardhome under the leadership of Tormund Giantsbane. They all were a bit discouraged when they heard how many were coming for them. Jon urged the Free Folk once more to stay alert and be prepared to fend off smaller attacks. The enemy had the numbers and could easily send small raiding parties their way without losing much strength.
When Sandor came out to wave him off, he handed Jon an odd looking pair of mittens. "To keep your hands warm on those fucking flying fire hazards, boy. The wife taught me to knit. It was a concession I needed to make before she was willing to steal me." He admitted a bit self-conscious. "She didn't want a husband who couldn't at least knit simple mittens. This is my third attempt."
Jon looked them over, impressed now, despite the uneven stitches. "You keep amazing me, Sandor. I hear nothing but praise about you from your new people. Thanks, I'll cherish them." He made a show of putting the oversized mittens on.
"For fuck's sake, don't tell Ser Gerold and the others. Them ignorant highborns would never understand." Sandor cheeks had reddened slightly.
"That is their loss, Sandor. I envy you your life here. Good deeds are recognized. Life is simple and straightforward. People care about each other, not about power or money. And if they don't like you, you will know exactly why and what to do about it. Let the knights cherish their way of life and you cherish yours."
Jon tried to mimic the tentative embrace Sandor had given him when he arrived a few days before. He kept it short and stepped aside. "I'll see you soon at Hardhome. Don't let Tormund beat you in the baby department. I expect to be an honorary uncle within twelve moons."
"It won't be by lack of fucking trying." Sandor's smile now was the happiest Jon had ever seen on the man's face. Not even when he had introduced Ygritte to him on his first evening. Jon suspected it might be because they already had a little one on the way. Recalling Sandor and Ygritte sitting closely together on the furs in their tent yesterday, Jon was certain Sandor had made the best decision ever.
Smiling back and touching Sandor's arm one last time, Jon hurried to the clearing where his dragons were waiting for him.
***
This time, Jon flew low over Castle Black making sure that he was spotted. The large gate opened for him before he reached it. Edd Tollet came hurrying over.
"Welcome, my Prince. We have been expecting you. I must warn you though. Your identity is known by all now. Cotter Pyke has told everyone that you are here as protector of the realm and that the Watch remains neutral and has no interest in any future plans you might have."
"Oh my. What about Prince Renly?" Jon almost regretted coming if it were not for the messages he expected to have arrived here for him and the fact that he was here to make sure that the Night's Watch took up their role as protector of the Wall and helped the Free Folk defeat the dead that were coming for them.
"He is taking it better than Jaime Lannister." Edd Tollet answered.
Jon halted his steps and moved his right hand to the pommel of his sword. "Is it safe for me to walk in there do you think?" He gestured towards the inner courtyard.
"Cotter Pyke has the men firmly in control. Oh, you mean Jaime Lannister. I'm sorry, my Prince. I might have given you the wrong impression. Jaime Lannister is full of remorse. He doesn't mean you harm. Quite the opposite, he feels he failed your house and would like to get the chance to make amends."
"Mmmh, I don't know what to think about that. I will remain vigilant. I plan on staying only one or two nights at the most. Just enough time to inform your Lord Commander of the state of affairs I witnessed at Eastwatch a few days ago and discuss the latest movements of the enemy. I hope he will be willing to share some information about the improved defences here and coordinate the support the other castles can lend to the coming attack. I will also need to dedicate some time to read and reply to the messages that will have gathered here for me. Perhaps I might even help warm the ground so it is easier to dig more ditches around the perimeter of Castle Black." Jon smiled hesitantly.
"I would like to be present when you brief our Lord Commander about the movements of the army of the dead. I'll be certain to ask his permission." Edd Tollet promised him.
By now they had crossed the courtyard and Jon looked at the building where his uncle had lived so many years. He sighed. "I reckon there is nobody living in his quarters yet?"
"There is a temporary Maester on loan from one of the Northern Lords and the healer of Mole's Town is staying here as well at the moment. But no, nobody lives in his quarters for the moment. You can visit them if you want. Nothing has been touched. Ask the steward to unlock the doors for you if you so desire."
"Thanks. Perhaps I will. I don't know yet. Is the room available where I slept before?"
"Yes, we have seen to it. I'll ask one of the exiled Targaryen loyalists to assist you. Joran Edgerton probably. I'll ask the Lord Commander if he can be assigned to your services for a day or two.
"Can you ask when Lord Commander Pyke is willing to meet with me? I'll be in my room for now. I'll wait for an escort to wander around the castle just to be sure. I will need to get accustomed to being Aegon Targaryen here at Castle Black. Everything was simpler when I was just Lord Celtigar."
"Not strictly true." Edd Tollet countered. "Remember once word got out that you were a dragonrider? I can still picture you fleeing Castle Black."
"Not my finest hour," Jon admitted. He had arrived at the door of his room. "Thanks Edd, I appreciate all you are doing for me."
"No thanks needed, my Prince. I owe you my life." Edd left the hallway and headed back to the exit.
***
Joran Edgerton turned out to be a simple man. He had never met Rhaegar Targaryen personally but his house had always been loyal. He had been sentenced to the Wall because his family had not been able to pay the taxes that were due after the Rebellion. He had been sold to the Wall by his own kin so to speak. He had been worth two years of taxes.
The man however was an excellent steward. He had brought Jon a hot supper and all the messages that had arrived for him. Most of them turned out to be copies his allies had send to several locations so he would be sure to get them. The most information he derived from the scroll Varys had sent him. Jon was glad that Prince Quentyn had received some form of punishment. Still the man better not come close to Princess Daenerys ever again. Jon would never allow him to be present at court once he was King. He wondered if they should bypass Doran Martell and open secret negotiations with Princess Arianne. He would ask Prince Oberyn. Perhaps they could arrange a meeting when Jon was back on Dragonstone.
The situation in the Stormlands grew more worrisome by the day. It seemed that Prince Stannis was trying to call his banners. Jon wondered what his purpose for that could be. Was he planning a rebellion and intended to seize the throne from his own brother? Would he go north as the Lady Melisandre had asked him to do initially? As far as Jon knew that was no longer the case.
According to a second scroll from Varys, Thoros of Myr had talked with the Red Priestess about the Prince That Was Promised. That was a strange tale. First Melisandre had been sure Prince Stannis was the chosen one. Now according to Thoros of Myr she prayed that her own child sired by Stannis would turn out to be the One That Was Promised. Visions were not always straightforward. Howland Reed often warned him of the dangers of either wrongly interpreting the visions, or of working towards making them come true so they actually became self-fulfilling prophesies.
He would gladly give the honour to someone else but his own visions had been crystal clear. Call him whatever you like That Was Promised, but the Gods had shown Jon that it would be up to him to defeat the ultimate White Walker.
He knew from his vision that the battle they were about to fight close to Hardhome would not be the final one. Things were never easy for him it seemed. It looked like it would still be a while before he could live in peace and find some kind of normal existence. He formulated the message for Lady Brienne, summoning her, Loras and Edric to Eastwatch in a sennight. At least Gendry would be glad with the company. Jon wrote he would be well in time to help prepare last of the traps to lure the dead to the large lake where they had chosen to take them on.
The scroll from Howland Reed made him slightly uneasy. It seemed the Lord of Greywater Watch had yet had another important vision, one he wanted to discuss with Jon in private. Perhaps he had seen what Jon had seen? Or perhaps he had seen something regarding his dilemma with Dany or his heirs? Jon sent his reply immediately. If he was honest, he really wanted to get Lord Reed's advice and tutelage. Lord Reed summons gave him an excuse to visit Greywater Watch and ask him for help with his limited greenseeing ability. And if it so happened that his foster-father had seen something embarrassing, he would just have to deal with that. His mind was made up. After helping Yara Greyjoy take possession of Pyke, he would fly to Greywater Watch before heading to Dragonstone.
It was dark when he finished reading his last messages. Uncle Benjen wrote that Robb was doing better. He was starting to open up and almost every day Uncle Benjen learned new details of what had happened to him at the Dreadfort. It was upon Maester Luwin's insistence that Uncle Benjen had started to urge Robb to talk about his experiences. According to Winterfell's Maester, that was the best way for Robb to get better. Face your troubles bit by bit and conquer them. The Maester had warned his uncle to make sure to do it gradually though. Uncle Benjen was proud to report that Robb's nightmares were becoming less frequent. The dark circles under his eyes were a thing of the past. He still startled easily though but they were working around that. Everyone knew that it was best that Robb Stark always saw them first before they spoke or made a noise.
Jon fell almost asleep reading the latest scroll from Yara Greyjoy describing the final arrangements for the attack and decided to retire. He gathered all the messages and put them in his backpack. He fell asleep almost before his head hit the furs.
***
Breakfast in the common hall had proved interesting. Cotter Pyke had invited him to sit at the high table. Jon gathered everyone present knew exactly how many spoons of porridge he had eaten. He was glad when the meal was over and he could follow the Lord Commander to his quarters. There they exchanged the necessary information.
Jon tried to focus during the longwinded report of the current strength of the Night's Watch at each of the forts. After Gendry had left for Eastwatch, Donal Noye, the blacksmith had returned to his armoury duties. The stern man had almost seemed happy upon receiving a wagonload of newly mined volcanic glass and the fact that he had been allowed to return to his forge. Now he was working hard, more motivated than ever and was turning the raw material into the much coveted weapons. Jon's only contribution to the conversation was to tell him that Gendry had several crates of newly forged weapons set aside for the other manned castles along the Wall and awaited the Lord Commander's wagons and orders so he could distribute them as Pyke would see fit. After that Cotter Pyke just droned on, this time enumerating all the offers of support from the Northern Lords that came in almost daily now.
When Jon figured the Commander's monologue was finally winding down, Cotter Pyke addressed his safety at Castle Black.
"Most of the men are convinced that you are our saviour. Edd Tollet certainly did his best to make sure they know how powerful your dragons are. But it only takes one fanatic Baratheon supporter to put your life in danger. Be vigilant, my Prince. Never walk about alone and have your sword with you at all times. I am told you are virtually unbeatable with it."
"I learned from the best." Jon stated simply. "However, every man can be defeated. Certainly when he lets his guard down, is tricked or ambushed or faces too many opponents at once. I'll not venture out after dark and will stay vigilant and see that I am escorted at all times."
"Then there is the matter of Prince Renly." Cotter Pyke warned him.
"May I be allowed to talk to him? It might benefit both parties" Jon suggested.
"I'll see to it that you can meet on neutral ground, both unarmed. We will guard the door." The Lord Commander was quick to give his assent.
"I'd prefer to do that sooner rather than later." Jon remarked. He was actually very curious to meet the brother of King Robert and Prince Stannis. Perhaps one out of three would be a decent human being? Jon was inclined to think so since Loras likes the Prince very much. He would also be able to keep his promise and hand over the rather thick scroll Loras had entrusted him with.
"Would you be willing to do Jaime Lannister the same courtesy?" Jon startled when Cotter Pyke asked him that.
"I can't complain about his dedication to the Night's Watch." The Lord Commander defended Lannister's request. "He is making himself useful training the recruits who have mastered the basic moves of swordplay. Perhaps you should witness a session without his knowledge. You'll understand what I mean."
"If he wants to speak to me, I guess I owe him that. I ambushed him the last time I was here and he answered my questions. I might as well answer his." Jon was not proud of the conversation he had forced upon Jamie Lannister the only time they had ever met. Even if only half of Cotter Pyke's praise of him was earned, then Jaime Lannister had come around rather quickly. Jon still remembered the sullen man in the dark cell and the disdain, no the hatred he had felt for him. Jaime Lannister had more than once crossed his mind, the most conflicting feelings warring within him whenever he considered all the life choices the man had made. He realised he had missed something Cotter Pyke had been saying.
"Sorry, Lord Commander. I was wool-gathering. Would you mind repeating your last sentence?"
"I asked whether you would mind holding these conversations in the former quarters of Maester Aemon? It is the best place I can think of where you will not be disturbed and where I can conceal the identity of your visitors to the other recruits. I can guarantee you will have absolute discretion there."
The Lord Commander waited patiently for Jon to make his decision known. When Jon agreed be it hesitantly, Cotter Pyke promised to send both men over one by one as soon as they had been tracked down.
And so it happened that Jon found himself walking with Edgerton to the Tower where he had spent so many hours when he was twelve. This time it would not be a kind elderly relative he would meet there. Jon steeled himself for these two unconventional meetings.
***
"What you are actually promising me sounds too good to be true." Prince Renly sat opposite Jon. Only a small table separated both men. The Baratheon Prince had become a bit more talkative after Jon had told him about his befriending Loras Tyrell and handing him the large scroll with the heavy seal. He was not totally won over yet.
"It is and it is not." Jon replied honestly. "You would be reinstated as Lord of Storm's End but you would be forced to proclaim your bastard nephew Gendry, who I will legitimate as a trueborn Baratheon, as your heir. If you will not do so willingly, I will issue a royal decree that overrules your wishes on the matter."
"I will not sire children anyway. With Edric dead, it might be the only option. And he is the son of the King if you speak true. I am still waiting for the catch though."
The Prince sat upright in the chair. He had not donned the black attire all the men of the Watch wore. Cotter Pyke had told Jon earlier that the Prince had declined to adhere to the same rules as the other recruits. The Prince also refused to participate in trainings or carry out any duties and insisted on being addressed by his title. He always appealed to his special status as royal liaison.
Jon sighed. He had explained everything already. What more could he say to convince Prince Renly that there was no catch? He had told him that his elder brother would be deposed as King and as punishment for his misdeeds against House Targaryen, Robert Baratheon would lose his birthright. What other punishments would befall his brother Robert would depend on how he acted when faced with a trueborn heir to the Iron throne. His brother, Prince Stannis' life would be forfeit once he stood trial and was convicted of burning several innocent smallfolk and nobles.
"You will have to swear fealty to me as your true King before witnesses. That is all Prince Renly. You have committed no crime. Loras Tyrell was not raped. He loves you as much as you love him. As I told you before, Loras swore his sword to me and will be a knight in my Kingsguard. He has also become a friend. In my Kingdoms, I will condone couplings between consenting adults never mind the gender. I do not know what else to tell you."
"And I would be free to leave the Wall as soon as you are crowned King?" The Prince still doubted his good fortune.
"You would be. I can't promise you a position on my small council or some other position of power yet. I will need to get to know your strengths and preferences. But feel free to discuss possibilities with me once you know what you want and both our circumstances have changed enough for such a topic to become relevant." Jon kept his tone respectful and his expression neutral.
His first impression of the Prince was not all that favourable. He wondered what qualities Loras had found to admire in him. To Jon, the man seemed indolent. How could you respect a man not inclined to make an effort, a man who just sat around and let others take care of everything? Mayhap his impression of the Baratheon Prince would improve upon further acquaintance. Jon did not have high hopes though.
"For now, I just want to return to the Stormlands. I can't believe Edric Storm was killed. I had grown to like the boy. Not like that." He added hastily before Jon could misconstrue his words. "He was still a kid. He looked a lot like Robert, like family." Prince Renly looked a bit forlorn.
"Gendry, I am told is a young Robert lookalike. I am sure you will like him once you get to know him. He is humble, kind and loyal. He must be around my age. I realise he is no replacement for Edric, but at least you have another decent relative who shares your blood." Jon gave Prince Renly this information trying to get the Prince to warm up to the existence of Gendry. He had his doubts now that his honest hard working loyal friend could strike up a friendship with this snobbish Prince.
"He is a bastard-born though." Prince Renly commented.
"What of it?" Jon asked making an effort not to sound offended. "Can a child really be held responsible for whether his parents were married or not. You of all people should realise that real life and religious rules don't always match. I just came back from the true North, I mean the lands north of the Wall. Nobody gets married there. The children are happy, their parents love them and everyone helps and supports his neighbours to survive the harsh environment of lands beyond the Wall where it is practically always winter."
Jon saw he had Prince Renly's attention now and continued. "Habits, customs, rules are just tools to help a society to live in some sort of harmony. Trueborn and bastard are just two definitions, two words that have no impact on the intelligence or abilities of a human being. Do not tell me you with your sexual inclinations haven't questioned the narrow minded views of the Seven Pointed Star at some point in your life."
"So according to you bastards have as much worth as noble born? The Prince had frowned upon hearing Jon's last comment.
"If they get the same chances, the same opportunities to learn, I believe so. Not all noble born children succeed in learning to read when at the same time a lowly servants can master the skill without much effort. But we are digressing. I believe I was trying to convince you not to look down on Gendry, Robert's natural son because of the circumstance of his birth. He is part of my entourage. I consider him a dear friend and he will be legitimated soon enough. Just get to know him and we'll talk again later."
"What happens if you leave here and get killed before you are crowned and can set me free?" Prince Renly changed the subject back to his own interests.
"Better pray that doesn't happen." Jon gave him a wan smile. "I have no intention of letting myself get killed anytime soon. You could raise my chances by convincing the Baratheon supporters here at the Wall that I have your best interests in mind."
"Can I assure them that you will not burn Storm's End to the ground?"
"I'll do my utmost to prevent that. A lot will depend on your brother's deeds. "Most likely, Prince Stannis' men will stand down at the first burst of dragonfire. We took the Dreadfort in less time than it takes to roast a pig. And the ugly thing is still standing with barely a scratch on its walls. I promise you, I am not set on destroying your home. It looks more likely that your brother will bring the fight to the capital. There are rumours that he is intending to lay siege to King's Landing and claim the iron throne for himself. He has called his banners for some reason."
"One last question." Prince Renly demanded. He didn't see fit to respond to Jon's last statement.
Jon sighed. The Baratheon Prince was driving a hard bargain. "And that is?"
"You won't ask me to take up arms against my brothers?" Renly Baratheon's tone indicated this was non-negotiable.
"I advise you to stay at the Wall until matters are resolved so you can claim neutrality. Once I am King, I will want a public kneeling from you. The realm needs to see you swear fealty to me as the true King before I proclaim you the Lord of Storm's End again."
"Fair enough. I wish you good luck. You will need it. Remember "Ours is the Fury" are the words both my brothers live by." Prince Renly cautioned him.
"I thank you, Prince Renly. I hope next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances." Jon stood to show the Prince out. This talk had been tougher than he had anticipated. "Ours is the Fury" applied to all three of the Baratheon brothers apparently.
When Renly opened the door, Edgerton handed him his sword. "Shall I send for Jaime Lannister, my Prince?"
"Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts. Or, perhaps I could go to the training yard for a quick sparring session. That will clear my mind a bit." Jon accepted his sword and fastened the belt around his waist.
"Are you up to the challenge, or can you recommend someone else?" He addressed Joran Edgerton when he stepped into the hallway.
"I challenge you."
Jon turned around and stood face to face with Jaime Lannister.
"I heard you were willing to speak to me." Jaime Lannister's expression betrayed nothing at all. Jon didn't see any sign of the remorseful behaviour that Cotter Pyke had described to him. Jaime Lannister looked like a cocky spoiled brat as he stood there waiting to see how Jon would respond. The only thing out of place was the black attire instead of the expensive red golden outfit that went with the attitude.
"I was trained by the Sword of the Morning." Jon answered finally not really knowing what the best course of action was here.
"I was too." Jaime responded. Then his face softened. "We might both benefit from sparring with a skilled adversary."
"I can't always find suitable partners." Jon admitted, unsure of Lannister's intent.
"My Prince," Edgerton intervened, apparently of the opinion Jon's decision had already been made. "Are you sure this is wise?"
"We will fight with dulled swords and I urge the Prince to put on some protective gear. I give you my word that I will fight fair and adhere to the rules of a training session. It is not a fight to the death, Edgerton, we just intend to spar. At the most, both of us will get a few bruises." Jaime Lannister was quick to defend his chances to spar with Prince Aegon.
"Your word Lannister?" Edgerton stepped between Jaime and his Prince. Jon couldn't see his face but was sure that the man was using his most stern expression to intimidate his sworn brother.
Lannister lost his patience. "For fuck's sake, Edgerton. Haven't I proved my worth yet? I solemnly vow to fight fair and to consider it a training session and nothing more. There you have it. Do not think I will go easy on you the next time I supervise your training in the courtyard."
"He is just looking out for me. "Jon intervened. He had made up his mind. "Lannister, just give me time to put on some protective gear. I'll meet you in the courtyard."
"Let's go, Edgerton." Jon gave Jaime a curt nod and quickly left the tower where the Maester had his quarters. He crossed the yard with big strides, heading for his own room, Edgerton at his heels.
***
When Jon entered the courtyard, Jaime Lannister was already there. Jon handed the scabbard containing Blackfyre to Edgerton and looked through the stash of training swords for one that resembled his own sword and had the right balance. He tried several swords but was still undecided.
Jaime Lannister didn't comment but when he saw Jon had tried them all and still had not chosen one, he approached.
"Donal Noye might have what you are looking for in the armoury. Perhaps I could have a look at Blackfyre while you make a trip to the armoury?"
Jon hesitated, still undecided on how to handle the man. Deciding to grant him the same courtesy he normally would give a skilled sparring partner, he nodded his assent to Edgerton. The armoury was just around the corner. Jon found Donal Noye in the backroom working on some dragonglass daggers. He smiled remembering Gendry standing in the exact same spot the last time he was there.
"My Prince," the blacksmith and armourer of Castle Black bowed respectfully. "I heard of your arrival. How are things?"
"All is well. Gendry sends you his greetings. I see you are familiar with the dragonglass now?"
"Much finer material than that old shit." Noticing Jon study some training swords and trying out a few, he asked, "Need something?"
"I need to borrow a decent training sword, one that bears a resemblance to my sword Blackfyre. I forgot to bring my own training sword. I must have left it at Winterfell."
Donal Noye went to the other side of the room and lifted the lid of a crate. After rummaging through its content, he approached Jon holding out three swords. "Try these. In my opinion at least one of them might suit you."
Jon tried all three, a smile lighting his features. "Excellent. Even though all three are different, they suit me. How did you know?"
The man might use few words, but Gendry had been right. He knew his trade.
"It is my job to know." He pointed at one the swords. "Gendry repaired that one."
"Thanks, I'll give these two a try. I'll make sure to have them returned after my sparring session with Jaime Lannister." Jon smiled at Noye and turned toward the exit.
"You are taking on Lannister? Wait, I am coming along. Wouldn't want to miss that. That man knows how to handle a sword. Good luck my Prince. You will need it."
When Jon returned at the training yard, Jaime was sitting on a low wall talking quietly to Edgerton. Blackfyre was back in its scabbard, safely in Edgerton's custody.
"Ready when you are, Lannister." Jon called out carrying two swords with him.
Jaime arched one eyebrow. "Two swords? Are you serious?"
"Getting second thoughts?" Jon remarked keeping a serious expression. If it had been anyone else, he would have used a teasing tone, perhaps accompanied by a challenging smile. He needed to keep his wits together. If he was not careful he might grow to like the man who pushed Bran.
"We will start with one sword and shield and see how that goes. Perhaps later we might consider sparring with two swords?" He suggested.
"I might be a bit rusty at that." Jaime admitted. "Haven't sparred with two swords in a very long time."
"Are you two going to fight or are you just going to stand yapping like fishwives." Donal Noye interrupted them. "I have to go back to my forge when it is still light outside."
Jon nodded at Jaime who took up his sword and a shield. Jon did the same and took his stance.
Both men circled each other, carefully eying every move the other made. Jaime Lannister was the first to attack. Jon parried easily. They repeated that a few times, using this reprieve to warm up their muscles. Jon was the one who indicated it was time to take the fight to another level. He stepped forward and started the first serious attack. Jaime despite being forced to give up ground thwarted each stroke without breaking a sweat. Jon tried to lull him with the same combination a few times before striking at Jaime's weaker side with clear intent. The former knight however was fast enough to hold off the more forceful swing and pushed Jon backwards with a movement of his shield.
Both men took their stance and started again. This time it was Jaime Lannister who attacked first and forced Jon on the defensive. Jon changed tactics. He used every trick he had learned to dodge and deflect his opponent's strikes. He only countered the strikes he couldn't avoid. He used the space of the courtyard to his advantage. At one time he ducked, rolled sideways over his shoulder and landed back on his feet ready to strike at Lannister's back. The knight somehow managed to jump sideways and turn around to face Jon once more and the fight continued.
They had been at it for some time when Jaime Lannister finally got the first strike in. It happened when an attack of Jon failed and he wasn't fast enough to deflect Jaime's counter. Jon acknowledged his defeat with a nod and both men immediately took up their positions once more.
This time Jon was determined to get the upper hand. Using his shield more instead of dodging the strokes, he exchanged blow for blow keeping close to Jaime Lannister at all times. He saw his opening when his opponent ducked a swing and gave him a low blow and a push with his shield. It was a move that he had learned from Sandor. Jaime lost his balance for a fraction of a moment and needed to place his foot sideways to correct his stance. That was enough for Jon to get him on the defensive. Jon attacked ferociously combining technique, speed and force. He didn't use his shield since Jaime Lannister had trouble parrying and concentrated on his stroke selection. Soon enough Jon found the final opening. This time he blocked Jaime's sword with his shield as he trust his own sword under Jaime's chin before the man could raise his shield. "Yield."
Jaime, slightly out of breath, lowered shield and sword. "I yield. Well fought. I recognised several combinations I had forgotten about. He trained you well."
"How about we just practice our technique with the two swords? No real combat, just one of us going through his exercises, while the other just accommodates and parries and then we switch roles." Jon proposed somewhat out of breath.
"I'm sure you are just indulging me now, but by all means. I told you I was rusty." Jamie too was using the short reprieve to recuperate a bit.
They ignored the men that had slowly gathered in the courtyard to watch their fight. Both picked up a second sword and left their shields against the Wall. Even though it was not a real fight, their audience was well entertained. It was not often such superior swordsmanship could be witnessed at the Wall. When someone made that remark to Donal Noye, the blacksmith countered.
"Not only a rare thing at the Wall. Few men in the realm fight like that. Enjoy it while you can." He turned on his heels and went back to the armoury. Even at the grander tournaments in the capital that he had attended in his former life, he had not often seen something akin to what he had witnessed out there. And that was only a training session. Imagine if these two fought with their lives at stake.
***
"Now did I earn my talk?" Jaime Lannister leaned against the Wall sweating profusely and breathing heavily.
Jon was not doing much better. He looked a Jaime Lannister with a lot more respect now. "Give me a chance to clean up a bit. I'll have a pitcher of ale at the ready. You know where to find me." He turned around and headed for his room.
"Well fought, my Prince." Joran Edgerton remarked. "That was the first time someone got the better of him since he arrived here."
"Mmmh." Jon offered no further comment. Jaime Lannister was a conundrum. How could he reconcile the man who pushed Bran from the Tower and fucked his sister with the young knight who saved a city without getting the credit he was due and was one of the best swordfighters he had ever met? He wondered how their talk would go."
He was back in his great-great-uncle's former quarters long before Jaime Lannister showed up. He paced around the room, looking at several objects his uncle had cherished while he lived here. Jon preferred to picture his great-great-uncle as he had been when he first visited and not the man on death's door of his last visit. The edges of his mouth curled slightly upwards when he recalled how he had first been presented with Blackfyre and his eyes wandered to the tile with the chipped corner that marked the secret hiding place. A sudden thought struck him and he quickly warned Edgerton who stood guard in the hallway not to let Jaime enter before he received permission.
He closed the door once more and kneeled on the floor beside the fireplace. He lifted the tile without needing much force. Another tiny smile ghosted over his face when he remembered how much trouble he had had lifting that tile all those years ago. The space was empty but for a few large scrolls. He quickly pocketed them and put the tile back in its original place. He startled when someone knocked on the door. He brushed the dirt of his pants and seated himself at the table.
"Enter," He called and waited for Jaime Lannister to seat himself in the exact same chair that Prince Renly had occupied earlier.
Both men stared at each other, a tense silence between them. It seemed the brief time apart had dissipated the bit of rapport they had established earlier in the courtyard.
"I believe you asked for this meeting, Lannister. But since you are hesitant to start, perhaps I should use the opportunity to apologise for ambushing you as I did the last time. I do not apologise for most of what I said, just for the way I went about it." Jon said his voice firm.
"Can't say I blame you. I pray to the Gods for forgiveness every night. I already told you I regret pushing your cousin. I do even more now." Jaime Lannister held Jon's stare willing him to believe him.
"Then state your business and we both can get back to our duties." It came out harsher than Jon intended but he preferred that to betraying how he was secretly warming up to the former knight.
"I considered your father a friend. I wished things had been different. I failed his family. Ever since I heard of your existence, I realised you are my chance at redemption. Prince Rhaegar asked me to protect his children. Let me protect you, my Prince." Jaime moved from the chair until he kneeled before Jon, his head bowed.
Jon should have been used to this by now. He was getting used to it when allies swore their allegiance, not yet though when repentant enemies made the attempt.
"I cannot accept your sword, and not only for the practical reason that your life belongs to the Night's Watch. You must excuse me if I am not ready to trust you yet."
Jaime got up but did not retake his seat. He moved to stand behind his chair, the table an additional barrier between them. Jon presumed Lannister did that so Jon would not feel threatened by the older man.
"Then give me a chance to prove myself." Lannister tried once more to plead his case. "I heard you are about to confront a large army of dead men. Let me come along. I am an experienced commander. I can be of use to you in the field."
Jon considered the proposal. It was not without value. Jon would be in the air during most of the attack. Tormund would lead the Free Folk. There probably was not a single man with the credentials of Jaime Lannister available at the Wall. It was one thing to lead a scouting party and fight off a few men of the Free Folk. Even the first ranger at Castle Black didn't have the experience of leading a large contingent of soldiers into battle nor of keeping his men in line in the chaos of a major clash.
"I will speak to Cotter Pyke about it." Jon conceded finally.
Jaime Lannister let out the breath he had been holding. "Thank you. If ever you feel so inclined, I am willing to tell you about my relationship with your father. Just say the word. I will take my leave now."
Jon nodded and Jaime Lannister left before Jon had decided whether he would have liked to prolong the conversation or not.
Interlude 29: Combining information
"I know who you are now, Jon." His younger cousin sat next to him in the Godswood. They both had divested themselves of their boots and were waddling their naked feet in the shallow water of a small pond.
Jon looked at him earnestly. "I never meant to lie to you, Bran."
"I know. I understand all about keeping secrets now." Bran replied. His little cousin looked as if he carried an enormous burden within him.
'Perhaps he does,' Jon realised. Lord Reed had welcomed him warmly upon his arrival at Greywater Watch. However, instead of inviting him inside the Hall and bringing him to his solar for a private talk, his former foster-father had promised him they would speak later and had immediately steered Jon away for the keep in the direction of the Godswood.
"Better greet your cousin first." Lord Reed had said with a serious expression and had offered no further explanation letting Jon find his way to the heart tree on his own.
Now Jon understood Lord Reed's motivation. It was Bran he had needed to visit. Bran was the one who had been given the visions for which Jon had made this detour instead of flying in a straight line from Pyke to Dragonstone. 'Was his young cousin carrying the burden of giving him a dire message and had Lord Reed sent him here first thing so Bran could get it over with?'
"How do you like it here, Bran?" Jon chose to start with a more neutral topic.
Bran looked at Jon and his features lightened. "It is nice here. Jojen and Meera are great as well. Summer likes roaming the swamps."
"And the food? Have you gotten used to the strange eating habits of the crannogmen?"
Bran's smile widened. "Lord Reed told me you didn't like vegetables all that much when you first lived here. I like most of them. And I don't mind eating frog every other day. It tastes bland enough. Lord Reed swears I will grow stronger, won't get sick as much and "
"will keep your teeth in excellent condition." Jon chuckled. "He told me that regularly as well. I confess that I like eating greens much more now than when I was four and I still have all my teeth." He playfully showed them all to his younger cousin and they both fell silent for a little while..
"And how do you get on with Lord Reed?" Jon asked wondering why Bran hadn't volunteered that information. He was an excellent foster-father to me. He still is. I learned a lot from him."
The smile on Bran's face changed to a more serious expression again. His eyes were honest and his tone sincere when he replied. "I like him, I admire him a lot. He is a very uh solicitous teacher. I experience new things almost every day and he helps me cope with it all. I am really getting good at warging and I also, I uh," Bran paused and stared at his feet that were making small waves in the clear water of the pond.
Jon saw the bit of enthusiasm that had appeared when his cousin mentioned warging disappear entirely. He nudged Bran's shoulder. "You can tell me, Bran. I am your kin, your friend and a warg just like you. I might understand."
Bran pulled his feet out of the water and hugged his knees to his chest so he could rest his chin on top of them. He gave his cousins a serious look. "I do not think you can, Jon. The Gods don't wake you up in the middle of the night with visions, do they?"
Jon also pulled his feet out of the pond and turned sideways so he could sit cross legged on the soft lush grass facing Bran.
"You have been having visions in the middle of the night? Are you sure you did not fall asleep in the Godswood?" Jon asked him just to be sure.
"I was not in the Godswood at the time. I was asleep in my bed when the visions started. The scary ones startled me so much that they woke me up. I was terrified and my heart was beating so fast that it hurt. It was similar to having nightmares. Only this was no nightmare, Jon. I realised instantly that the Gods had given me more messages. Even now I still remember each and every one of the visions the Gods sent me that night. I only need to close my eyes and I can picture every detail I was shown. Lord Reeds says the Gods favour me and I will become a very powerful greenseer. He warns me to be careful not to let others know except for you. He told me I could tell you and that you would understand. Why is that?" Bran lifted his head a bit so he could look straight at Jon.
"Because I think I had visions while I slept in my bed as well." Jon admitted after some deliberation.
Surprise covered Bran's face. He looked at Jon with wide eyes. "Truly? Did they scare you as well?"
Jon moved a little closer to his young cousin and leaned over. His voice dropped near to a whisper. "They did, Bran. They scared and confused me."
"Why do the Gods do that to us?" Bran's downcast tone made Jon feel sorry for him.
"Perhaps because they do not realise how scary their messages are to us. They of course know the full meaning of what they are showing us. These visions are a lot scarier to us simple humans because we do not know for sure what they are about. Hells, we are even in the dark as to when things will happen or if we worry needlessly about something that already happened long before we were born."
"You really do understand." Bran huddled closer to Jon and leaned against him for comfort.
"You realise that you will soon be King, Jon?" Bran's voice was soft as a whisper as well when he uttered these words.
"Did the Gods show you that, Bran?" Jon questioned keeping his tone casual. He badly wanted to hear more but made sure to allow his cousin to tell it at his own pace.
"I think so. I saw you on a green dragon. It might have been you that I saw next to King Robert's deathbed and I saw you with a crown on your head and your hair was all grey. Do you already have dragons, Jon?" Bran's voice sounded eager. It was easy to understand which answer he was hoping to hear from Jon.
"I had them since I was twelve." Jon readily admitted. He smiled when he saw his cousin's eyes grow wide. "The green dragon is Rhaegal. I was able to come here so quickly because I rode him. I can introduce you to him tomorrow morning if you like. He has a brother too, Viserion. But the green dragon, he is my special friend, just as Summer is your friend." Jon nodded his head when he met Bran's questioning eyes.
"You can warg into a dragon? For real? Controlling a dragon, that must be an amazing feeling." Bran smiled when Jon nodded again.
"It is more akin to mind sharing than warging. When I connect with Rhaegal, we are equals, whereas when I connect with Ghost, I am in command." Jon explained.
"Magic is getting stronger in the realm. The Gods were right." Bran murmured.
Jon felt a shiver running down his spine. "What did the Gods tell you about that, Bran? Will you tell me?"
"That Evil is growing stronger. Therefore, Good needs to grow stronger too. They are doing all they can to help us. They also hint that you are special and everyone needs to help you. I saw enough to guess that you were born with magic because the leader of the bad forces has reawakened after thousands of years. His magic is growing stronger by the day. Someone needs to be able to oppose him so the balance between good and evil can be kept. Otherwise, the survival of every living being in the realm is threatened."
"Have you seen this leader of the bad forces, Bran? I might have seen him once in a vision but I only caught a small glimpse."
"I saw him." Bran admitted looking uneasy. "At least I think it was him. He had a scary white-blue face and his hair was more like ice peaks that stood upright. In fact, he looked like he was entirely made of ice. He had this scary long blue fingernail with which he touched a small baby's cheek. With a single touch he turned a rosy healthy looking baby into an ice baby, Jon. The Gods showed me how he creates his brothers. That was the vision that scared me so much that I woke up with my heart racing in my chest."
Jon put his arm around his cousin to offer some comfort. "That sounds like the creature I have seen. In my vision I was fighting him. I think our Gods sent me some advice on how to defeat him. Don't worry Bran, I will do everything I can to protect you, to protect the realm."
"But first you must become the true King." Bran's voice once more was barely above a whisper. "A King to defeat a King."
Jon stiffened when he felt these words echo inside of him. "Then I did not interpret what I saw the wrong way." He whispered back. "I felt the same thing, Bran. I did not hear these words, I felt them."
"I know." Bran said leaning into Jon for comfort. "That's how I experience it as well. The feelings that accompany these visions sometimes explain more than a thousand pictures could."
"Would you be willing to tell me more about the visions you had, Bran? You said something about King Robert's death earlier?" Jon still had his arm around Bran. He angled his body a little so he could see his cousin's face without straining his neck.
"Of course, Jon. That is why we asked you to come here. You need to know all that I've seen. I do not know whether it will be of much help to you though. I have no clue about when these things might come to pass." Bran proceeded to tell Jon every detail about the scene he had witnessed in the King's bedroom in the Red Keep.
"What was the man who was kneeling with his back to you wearing, Bran?" Jon asked. "Did he carry a sword? Do you recall details about his coat, the colour of the fabric or patterns in the fur collar?"
When Bran had finished his description, Jon was fairly sure it had been him in Bran's vision. He no longer wondered why Howland Reed had insisted that he visited them at his earliest convenience. This was a possibility that hadn't been included in one of their scenarios or contingency plans. Even if Bran's visions had provided no clear timeline, this was vital information.
Jon put his hand on Bran's shoulder. "No wonder Howland Reed is proud of you. You are doing wonderfully, Bran. I am lucky to have you looking out for me."
"Even though you are a greenseer yourself?" Bran asked, still a bit uncertain even though his cheeks had coloured under Jon's praise.
"I am not even a tenth as powerful as you already are. In fact, I am not sure if I am really a greenseer. Perhaps the Gods only contact me when there is no other way." Jon pondered. "I can only count a handful of dreams that I suspect are visions in my entire life."
"I'll help you. Lord Reed can help as well. You are important to the realm, Jon."
"Thank you, Bran. I will indeed need all the help I can get. Now take your time and tell me anything you think I need to know. I won't leave before you had the chance to tell me all. I am lucky to have you looking out for me. You have been a tremendous help already, cousin."
Jon knew he had struck the right tone when Bran straightened his posture. Gone was the frightened young boy. His cousin looked more confident now and told Jon every vision he had been gifted here at Greywater Watch.
As soon as Bran had finished describing the rest of the visions, Jon had changed the subject and had opted to tell his little cousin about his first warging exercises when he had only celebrated his fourth nameday. He chose the ones where things had not always gone exactly according to plan and when Bran chimed in and told one of his more naughty deeds, the ominous visions were all but gone from his young cousin's mind, at least for a while.
The sun had set a while ago and it was rather dark beneath the trees in the Godswood when Jon and Bran finally decided to go inside. They walked side by side very comfortable in each other's company.
***
His talk with Howland Reed was not as straightforward. They had retired to the Lord's solar after Bran had gone to bed. Jon couldn't remember one single occasion during his time fostering at Greywater Watch that he had received such a harsh scolding. When Lord Reed finally finished his long reprimand Jon did not utter a single word in his own defense. He had no rebuttal. Lord Reed was right on all counts. He should never have taken the risk.
If Lord Reed was to be believed, what he had tried to do had been even more risky than he had been aware of. Stronger men had died from eating those mushrooms or so Howland Reed had told him.
"At least promise me you will never attempt something like that ever again," Lord Reed all but ordered him when Jon kept silent.
"I promise, I swear it on everything that I hold dear, Lord Reed. I won't try it again, even if I never have another vision by conventional means again." Jon's voice cracked during his fervent attempt to get absolution from his former foster-father. He cleared his throat. "I had been meaning to ask you to help me, to teach me as you taught Bran. Would you be willing to do that?"
The crannogman's admonishing stare stayed fixed on the Targaryen Prince for a long while. "You do not deserve it. Not after what you have done. I expected better judgement from you, Jon. I never once suspected that you were one of those boys that let their baser instincts rule their brains. You almost condemned us all because of your impatience, because you wanted to kiss a beautiful girl without feeling guilty about it."
Even though Jon had flinched the moment Lord Reed hinted that he knew more about him and Dany than Jon had revealed, he kept up his effort to convince the greenseer to help him. "I learned my lesson, Lord Reed. I do not make a vow lightly. I am true to my word. You know that of me. If you are truly convinced that I am so important to the realm, then help me."
When he saw the stern expression on Lord Reed's face lessen somewhat, he continued his plea with even more insistence. "Please teach me. We need every advantage if we intend to prevail against the Others. I have the potential in me to receive visions once in a while. What if I missed an important clue because I can't distinguish vision from dream and have not been taught ways try to prolong these visions? Please?"
Somehow Jon felt certain Howland Reed would cave eventually. It was even possible that he already had decided to give in and was only trying to get his message across before agreeing to give his former ward some much needed lessons.
"You have made good use of your talk with Bran, I see. Perhaps you are not that dim-witted after all."
Jon was catapulted back into time when the crannogman's beady eyes seemed to look right through him. He felt nothing but relief when it dawned on him that Howland Reed's stance had relaxed noticeably and that the look that was fixed on him now was changing into one of the more benevolent ones he had grown used to during his stay at Greywater Watch. He kept silent aware that his best chance was to give the greenseer ample time to reach his decision.
"Meet me tomorrow morning in the Godswood at first light. I see what I can do with the limited time we have at our disposal. You will want to depart for Dragonstone soon, I reckon?"
Jon released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "I do. I will stay the necessary time though. This is very important."
Howland Reed nodded. "Sit down and let us talk about the impact of Bran's visions for a bit. I am sure they left you with a lot of questions."
Jon was only too happy to oblige. As soon as the both of them were seated in their usual chairs before the fireplace, he started the conversation.
"At least one vision reassured me a bit."
"Let me guess." Howland studied the serious face of his former ward. "The one where you wear a crown and your hair is all grey?"
Jon nodded. "I never could keep anything a secret from you for long. It seems living apart all this time hasn't changed that. Indeed, from the moment that I learned more about the prophesy and really started to believe that I was the one to lead the fight against the dead and more importantly the fight against their leader, I've feared that I might not survive that fated fight. If balance needs to exist in the realm, then when Evil is defeated, the hero no longer has a purpose to fulfil."
"You had knowledge of this leader before Bran told you?" Apparently this was something Lord Reed hadn't been aware of.
"Yes, I did. There is this White Walker that leads the other Walkers. After hearing about Bran's vision of the baby, I now suspect he is their creator as well. He has strong magic and will be my ultimate opponent. The key to surviving is to defeat him. I saw a glimpse of myself in single combat with him and nobody else could reach us. I had the strong premonition that even if I were able to destroy him, that I would not survive the fight myself. Sometimes I feel so insignificant, so unworthy, especially after I made yet another mistake." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "During times like that, I fear I will not be able to do what the Gods want me to do."
Jon sat back and leaned against one of the soft feathered pillows that he remembered so well from his youth.
"And now Bran's vision gave you hope that you will prevail." Lord Reed stated the obvious. "Anything else you want to tell me about your vision?
"Not really." Jon had lowered his shoulders. "Do not take it personally. I have not told anyone and I won't yet. Not before I can make sense of what I saw. It is not about to happen anytime soon anyway. Not now we are sure that I will face him after I am crowned King. I knew that before Bran told me. I had the same premonition. He just confirmed it."
"A King to defeat a King." Lord Reed nodded.
"Apparently the prophecy got it wrong. It is not the Prince but the King That Was Promised." Jon gave Howland Reed a wan smile.
"Or the prophecy was too vague, humans botched it up over the years or something got lost in translation." The crannogman suggested. "So about the upcoming battle then, can you tell me a bit more about that? If not their general, who will you fight this time?"
Jon straightened his back again and started to tell him about what had been prepared already. It had grown very late before they decided to call it a night and promised to meet again in the Godswood come morning. Despite the stern talking to he had received, he was glad he had been able to discuss his substance abuse with another adult. Keeping secrets proved to be more burdensome than he could ever have imagined.
He ended up staying another day and night. After some promising lessons, both men had combined all they knew about the past, the present and the future. The only subject they didn't touch upon was his intent to wed Dany. Somehow the fact that Howland Reed didn't bring that subject up reassured Jon. After the dressing down he had received his first evening, he was sure Lord Reed would have had no scruples in warning him away from her had he known it would jeopardise their cause.
Jon left Greywater Watch well satisfied with the outcome of this visit. It had been worth the extra delay.