Chapter 137: The Young King's Morning
The royal procession had finally stopped moving.
For the thousands of men, women, horses, wagons, servants, knights, and nobles travelling north, that alone felt like a miracle.
Tents covered both sides of the Kingsroad.
Cooking fires burned throughout the camp. Soldiers gathered around steaming pots while servants rushed between the enormous royal pavilions. Horses were fed, wheels inspected, armor cleaned, and complaints exchanged freely by everyone who believed the journey should have ended several days ago.
Outside one of the smaller noble tents, Tyrion Lannister sat comfortably upon a folding chair.
A thick fur cloak covered his shoulders.
A cup of wine rested in one hand.
Three books were stacked beside him.
A fourth lay open across his lap.
Jaime found him there.
The Kingslayer approached wearing a white cloak over polished armor, looking far too clean for a man who had spent most of the day riding along a muddy road.
Tyrion glanced up.
"You look miserable."
Jaime stopped beside him.
"I am one of the richest men in Westeros."
"So I have heard."
"My father commands enough gold to purchase the loyalty of half the realm."
"Only half?"
"I wear the finest armor in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Very shiny."
"And yet," Jaime continued, "I am expected to sleep inside a tent."
Tyrion looked toward the enormous white pavilion prepared for the royal family.
"Would you prefer His Grace's wheelhouse?"
Jaime followed his gaze.
In the distance, servants continued carrying trays of meat, wine, bread, cheese, and roasted vegetables toward Robert's pavilion.
The king had eaten twice since the procession stopped.
A third meal was apparently being prepared.
Jaime shuddered.
"I would prefer the tent."
"A wise choice."
Jaime looked at the empty chair beside Tyrion.
"Is that for me?"
"No."
Jaime sat anyway.
Tyrion closed his book.
For several moments, the brothers watched the royal camp settle beneath the darkening sky.
The Kingsroad stretched northward between fields and distant forests. Somewhere beyond the darkness lay Winterfell.
Much farther north stood the Wall.
And beyond that, hidden somewhere no southern map could identify, rested Winter's Heaven.
Jaime reached for Tyrion's wine.
Tyrion moved the cup away.
"Get your own."
"I have spent the entire day guarding the king."
"And I have spent the entire day listening to people complain about the speed of the journey. We have both suffered."
Jaime took the cup from him anyway.
Tyrion sighed.
"This procession moves more slowly than a merchant caravan transporting stone uphill."
"The wheelhouse cannot travel faster."
"The wheelhouse could."
Jaime drank.
"The king cannot."
Tyrion smiled.
"That is dangerously close to treason."
"It is an observation."
"A royal observation?"
"A heavy one."
Tyrion laughed.
From somewhere within the royal section of the camp came the sound of Robert shouting for more wine.
Both brothers looked in that direction.
Jaime handed the cup back.
"How much has he eaten today?"
Tyrion considered.
"Breakfast before sunrise."
"Yes."
"Another breakfast after sunrise."
"Yes."
"Roast boar before midday."
"Yes."
"Bread, cheese, and several meat pies while the wheelhouse crossed the river."
"Yes."
"Half a chicken when we stopped."
Jaime nodded.
"And now dinner."
Tyrion listened to the distant shouting.
"No. That sounds like the meal before dinner."
Jaime rubbed one hand across his face.
"The man once fought Rhaegar Targaryen upon the Trident."
"And now he wages war against every kitchen between King's Landing and Winterfell."
"He appears to be winning."
"At terrible cost to the local livestock."
Jaime laughed quietly.
Tyrion reopened his book.
Jaime looked down at the title.
It concerned the construction of the Wall.
"Still reading about ice?"
"The Wall is not merely ice."
"It is several hundred miles of very old ice."
"Seven hundred feet high."
"I know."
"Stretching from the Gorge to the Bay of Seals."
"I know."
"Built eight thousand years ago."
"According to songs written by men who could not count beyond twenty."
Tyrion looked offended.
"You have no appreciation for ancient mysteries."
"I appreciate several ancient mysteries."
"Name one."
Jaime leaned back.
"Why anyone thought placing you upon a horse was a good idea."
Tyrion stared at him.
Jaime smiled.
"An unanswered question for the ages."
"I hope your tent collapses tonight."
"I have guards."
"So did King Aerys."
Jaime's smile disappeared for half a heartbeat.
Tyrion returned his attention to the book.
The silence between them was brief but noticeable.
Jaime looked toward the fires.
"You truly wish to see the Wall?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it is the greatest structure ever built in Westeros."
"Casterly Rock is larger."
"Casterly Rock is a mountain with windows."
Jaime looked offended on behalf of their ancestors.
"It is the seat of House Lannister."
"A very wealthy mountain with windows."
"And sewers."
"Excellent sewers."
Jaime shook his head.
"Most men travelling north are interested in Winterfell's daughters."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow.
"Most men travelling north have not heard what happens to those who offend Eddard Stark."
"Beautiful women are worth a little danger."
"To you, perhaps."
"And not to you?"
Tyrion lifted the book.
"Ancient mysteries are far more attractive than southern politics."
"That book will not keep you warm at night."
"It also will not demand jewels, titles, or promises the following morning."
Jaime laughed.
"I understand why women dislike you."
"Women like me very much."
"Women like your gold."
"My gold is among my better qualities."
A group of royal servants passed nearby carrying another barrel of wine.
Tyrion watched them go.
"I am curious about Winterfell," he admitted. "But the Wall interests me more."
"And Winter's Heaven?"
Tyrion's expression changed immediately.
Jaime noticed.
"There it is."
"What?"
"That look."
"What look?"
"The one you make whenever someone mentions something impossible."
Tyrion set the book aside.
"Winter's Heaven is more interesting than the Wall."
"I thought nothing was more interesting than the Wall."
"Until recently, nothing was."
Jaime folded his arms.
"What interests you most? The four-kilometer ship? The giants? The mammoths? The glowing glass lights?"
"The technologies."
Jaime stared at him.
"Not the giants?"
"No."
"You prefer machines to giants?"
"Giants are merely very large men."
"I suspect giants might object to that description."
"Then I shall stand far away while explaining it."
Jaime smiled.
Tyrion leaned forward.
"Think about what we have heard. Trains moving faster than horses. Voices carried across enormous distances through towers. Buildings lit without candles. Roads created with cement. Workshops producing goods in quantities no ordinary castle could match."
"Magic."
"Perhaps."
"You do not believe it?"
"I believe that calling something magic is often an excuse to stop asking how it works."
Jaime looked toward the northern horizon.
"And you intend to ask?"
"Every question they permit."
"Winter's Heaven does not permit outsiders to enter."
"Twenty northern envoys entered."
"And returned without revealing its location."
"Yes."
"Ships that attempted to follow the Titan never discovered where it went."
"Yes."
Jaime glanced at him.
"You sound excited."
"I am."
"You may be the only man in Westeros who hears that a hidden kingdom refuses to appear on any map and responds with curiosity."
"I am not planning to secretly follow their ship."
"That may be the first sensible thing you have said tonight."
"I plan to convince them to invite me."
Jaime laughed loudly.
Several nearby guards looked toward them.
"You?"
"Why not?"
"They have refused spies sent by half the realm."
"I am not a spy."
"You are a Lannister."
"A tragic condition, but not always fatal."
Jaime shook his head.
"King Jon may disagree."
Tyrion looked thoughtful.
"What do you think of him?"
"The bastard king?"
"He has not been merely a bastard for many years."
"Father would say birth always matters."
"Father would also study Jon Snow before insulting him."
Jaime could not argue with that.
Tyrion picked up his wine.
"A boy leaves Winterfell at six. Years later, he returns commanding giants, disciplined armies, an impossible ship, and a hidden kingdom. He sells enough grain to change northern markets and openly displays thirty Valyrian steel swords as though they were common castle-forged blades."
"Thirty," Jaime murmured.
Tyrion nodded.
"That alone is more than most men could imagine seeing together in one place."
"Perhaps some of them were false."
"Lord Manderly's envoys watched those swords cut through ordinary steel."
"So the stories claim."
"Stories supported by twenty witnesses."
Jaime stared into the fire.
"I would like to see his soldiers."
Tyrion smiled.
"There it is."
"What?"
"That look."
"The one you make whenever someone mentions an opponent you might not defeat."
Jaime's hand rested upon the pommel of his sword.
"I can defeat any man."
"Jon defeated thirty elite soldiers."
"So the stories claim."
"Would you challenge him?"
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
Tyrion laughed.
"You call me strange, yet you hear of a king who defeated thirty men and your first thought is to hit him with a sword."
"I understand swords."
"And that is precisely why I prefer books."
A raised voice sounded from the royal tents.
Joffrey was berating a servant.
Even from a distance, the prince's words carried through the camp.
Jaime's expression tightened.
Tyrion took a slow drink.
"He becomes more charming with every passing day."
"He is tired."
"So is the servant."
"He has been travelling for weeks."
"So has the servant."
Jaime looked toward his brother.
Tyrion's expression remained humorous, but his eyes had become sharper.
"Joffrey is the crown prince," Jaime said quietly.
"A fact Joffrey remembers every moment and everyone else wishes to forget."
"He is young."
"Then someone should teach him before age turns arrogance into cruelty."
Jaime did not answer.
A servant stumbled from the royal pavilion carrying a broken cup.
Tyrion watched the boy hurry away.
"The North will not flatter him like King's Landing."
"No."
"Lord Stark certainly will not."
"No."
"That should be entertaining."
"For you."
"Everything is entertaining when one is small enough to hide beneath the table."
Jaime rose from the chair.
"You are the strangest Lannister ever born."
Tyrion reopened his book.
"Considering our family, I will accept that as praise."
Jaime turned toward his tent.
Tyrion called after him.
"Jaime."
He stopped.
"Being normal in House Lannister would be terribly disappointing."
Jaime looked back at him.
Then he smiled.
"Try to sleep before sunrise."
"I intend to."
"With the book?"
"It is quieter than a woman."
"And colder."
"Not once we reach the Wall."
Jaime laughed as he walked away.
Tyrion remained beside the fire, reading beneath the stars while the largest royal procession in living memory slowly settled for the night.
Far to the north, another king was having a very different morning.
________________________________________
Jon Snow woke slowly.
That alone was unusual.
He normally woke before sunrise.
Years of training had created habits stronger than exhaustion. Whether inside Winterfell, aboard Winter's Titan, or within his palace, Jon's eyes opened at almost the same hour every morning.
Today, sunlight already filled the chamber.
Jon stared at the ceiling.
Something warm rested against his side.
Golden hair lay across his shoulder.
Val slept beside him.
For several quiet moments, Jon did not move.
Memories of the previous night returned.
Conversations.
Wine.
Laughter.
A kiss that had lasted much longer than either of them intended.
Then another.
After that, neither had wished to stop.
Jon closed his eyes.
In his first life, he had died without ever knowing a woman.
In his second, he had been too young and too busy surviving, training, building, and ruling to think seriously about such things. Even after ten years inside the divine training dimension had left him physically and mentally a grown man, he had continued living as though every hour belonged to his kingdom.
Ygritte had changed that.
She had forced warmth into the parts of his life occupied only by duty.
And now Val had followed.
Jon had constructed railways.
Built a floating city.
Created factories.
Founded schools.
Armed giants.
Destroyed White Walkers.
Yet somehow, he had failed to notice for nearly a year that Val wanted him.
The woman beside him stirred.
Her eyes opened.
She looked at Jon.
Then smiled.
"You are thinking too loudly."
Jon raised an eyebrow.
"I made no sound."
"You did not need to."
"What was I thinking?"
"That you are late."
Jon turned toward the clock.
He froze.
Val laughed softly.
"You look more frightened now than when ten thousand dead men attacked the frontier."
"I am not frightened."
"You are extremely late for breakfast."
"I noticed."
"And Ygritte will notice too."
Jon stared at the ceiling again.
Val moved closer.
"You negotiate with northern lords without hesitation," she murmured. "You command armies. You terrify merchants. Yet one red-haired woman frightens you."
"Ygritte does not frighten me."
Val's smile widened.
"Of course not."
Jon looked at her.
"You are enjoying this far too much."
"I waited nearly a year for you to notice me. I intend to enjoy every moment."
"You could have told me."
"I did."
"When?"
"Repeatedly."
Jon frowned.
Val laughed.
"Gods, you truly never noticed."
"In my defense, I was ruling a kingdom."
"You were hiding behind reports."
"That sounds like something Ygritte would say."
"She was correct."
Jon sat up.
"We should go."
Val made no effort to move.
"Should we?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because if we remain here any longer, the entire palace will know."
Val looked almost sympathetic.
"Jon."
He paused.
"The entire palace already knows."
________________________________________
The main dining hall was crowded.
Commanders sat beside ministers.
Engineers argued with military officers about steel allocations.
Giants occupied reinforced benches along one side of the hall. Several children hurried between tables carrying bread while servants placed enormous platters of meat before Tormund.
Conversation filled the room.
Then the doors opened.
Jon entered.
Val walked beside him.
The entire hall fell silent.
Forks stopped halfway to mouths.
Cups remained raised.
Several commanders exchanged coins beneath the table.
Jon noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
Tormund slowly turned.
He looked at Jon.
Then Val.
Then at the lateness of the morning.
His enormous grin appeared.
Jon immediately regretted leaving his chambers.
Tormund climbed onto his bench.
"THE KING HAS FINALLY REALIZED VAL IS A WOMAN!"
The hall exploded.
Laughter thundered against the walls.
Several men pounded the tables.
A giant roared in celebration without entirely understanding what had happened.
Val covered her mouth, laughing.
Jon stood motionless.
Tormund raised both arms.
"I TOLD YOU ALL!"
A commander near the military tables threw down a handful of coins.
"You said before the Titan returned!"
Tormund pointed at him.
"I changed my prediction."
"You changed it three times!"
"A wise man adjusts to the battlefield!"
"That is not how betting works!"
"It is when I win!"
Jon looked across the hall.
"Betting?"
Silence attempted to return.
It failed.
One of the younger commanders stood slowly.
"Your Grace—"
"What betting?"
The man looked desperately toward Tormund.
Tormund offered no help.
The commander swallowed.
"There may have been…a small wager."
"How small?"
The man glanced around the hall.
"Which one?"
Jon's eyes narrowed further.
"Which one?"
Val sat at the nearest table, visibly delighted.
The commander began counting.
"There was the military pool."
Tormund nodded proudly.
"The administrative pool."
Several ministers suddenly looked away.
"The railway workers created their own."
Jon stared.
"The railway workers?"
"They believed you would notice Val before the eastern line was completed."
A minister sighed.
"They lost badly."
Another officer lifted his cup.
"The palace guard had two separate pools."
"Why two?"
"Day guards and night guards could not agree upon the rules."
Jon slowly turned toward Tormund.
Tormund proudly emptied a purse of coins onto the table.
"I won most of them."
"You cheated."
"I observed."
"You changed your predictions."
"I adapted."
"That is cheating."
Tormund placed a hand over his chest.
"You wound me."
"One day, I may do more than wound you."
Tormund laughed.
One of the giants leaned forward.
His Common Tongue had improved considerably over the years, though his voice still shook cups across nearby tables.
"Young King finally rest?"
Jon looked toward him.
"Yes."
The giant nodded approvingly.
"Good. King works too much."
Another giant raised an enormous cup.
"Soon little kings?"
The hall erupted again.
Jon closed his eyes.
Val sat beside him.
"You have faced armies with greater confidence."
"Armies obey rules."
"Not always."
"They are still easier than this."
Tormund lifted a piece of roasted meat.
"To princes and princesses!"
Dozens of cups rose.
Jon opened his eyes.
"There will be no discussion of princes or princesses during breakfast."
A minister called from farther down the table.
"Should we schedule it for lunch, Your Grace?"
Even Val lost control at that.
She leaned against Jon, laughing openly.
Jon looked around the hall.
Men who had faced White Walkers were wiping tears from their eyes.
Commanders who became silent whenever he entered a war council were openly mocking him.
Ministers who feared missing a deadline had placed bets upon his love life.
His authority had completely collapsed.
Then the dining hall doors opened again.
Ygritte entered.
The laughter stopped.
Not gradually.
Immediately.
Tormund sat down.
Coins vanished.
Cups lowered.
The giants became unusually interested in their food.
Ygritte looked around the silent hall.
Her eyes moved toward Jon.
Then Val.
Then back toward Jon.
Her expression remained calm.
Far too calm.
Jon had faced White Walkers whose arrival felt less dangerous.
Ygritte walked toward the table.
Her boots struck the stone floor with slow, steady steps.
No one spoke.
She stopped in front of Jon.
"You're late."
Jon nodded carefully.
"Yes."
Ygritte looked at Val.
Val met her gaze without retreating.
Then Ygritte looked back at Jon.
"Nearly a year."
Jon frowned.
"What?"
"She has been chasing you for nearly a year."
Val tilted her head.
"I thought everyone knew."
Every commander within hearing distance nodded.
Jon looked around the room.
"You all knew?"
More nods.
Even the giants nodded.
One of them leaned toward another and whispered far too loudly.
"Little King slow."
The second giant nodded solemnly.
"Very slow."
Ygritte folded her arms.
"You can build trains."
Jon said nothing.
"You can build ships larger than castles."
Silence.
"You can make voices travel through towers."
Several communications officers looked proud.
"You can invent lights without fire."
Jon waited.
"But you cannot notice when a beautiful woman sits close enough to climb inside your cloak."
The hall erupted once more.
Jon rubbed his forehead.
Val looked offended.
"I was not that obvious."
Ygritte turned toward her.
"You broke a pencil because I touched his arm."
Val considered.
"That happened once."
"Three times."
"Two."
"Four."
Val frowned.
"Were you counting?"
"Aye."
Tormund leaned toward the commander beside him.
"This is more dangerous than the frontier."
Ygritte turned.
"I heard that."
Tormund immediately looked at his food.
"I said nothing."
"You said fighting White Walkers was easier than dealing with Free Folk women."
Tormund shook his head rapidly.
"I would never say something so foolish."
The commander beside him slowly moved away.
Ygritte returned her attention to Jon.
Jon studied her expression.
Beneath the anger rested amusement.
But the anger was real.
Not because she had never known about Val's feelings.
She had known before almost everyone.
Ygritte was angry because Jon had not spoken to her.
"You should have told me," she said.
Jon's expression became more serious.
"You are right."
The laughter faded slightly.
Jon met her eyes.
"I should have spoken to you first."
Ygritte watched him for several moments.
Val's smile also softened.
Jon continued.
"I did not plan what happened."
"That is obvious."
"Ygritte."
"Aye?"
"I am sorry."
The hall became completely quiet.
Ygritte unfolded her arms.
Then she stepped closer and struck the back of Jon's head.
Not hard.
But loudly enough for the entire hall to hear.
Jon stared at her.
She stared back.
"You're an idiot."
Tormund choked upon his meat.
Val smiled.
Jon rubbed the back of his head.
"I have been called worse."
"Not by me."
"You have called me worse many times."
"Aye, but today I mean it."
Val leaned forward.
"In fairness, inventing railways may truly be easier than understanding women."
Jon looked toward her.
"You are supposed to help."
"I waited nearly a year. I am helping myself."
Ygritte laughed despite her anger.
The sound broke the last of the tension.
Val looked at her.
Ygritte looked back.
Some unspoken understanding passed between them.
Then both women turned toward Jon.
That was worse.
Much worse.
Jon recognized the danger immediately.
Tormund recognized it as well.
He stood.
"I suddenly remember an urgent military matter."
Jon looked at him.
"Sit down."
Tormund sat.
Ygritte pulled out the chair on Jon's left.
Val already occupied the one on his right.
Jon sat between them.
Every person in the hall watched with barely concealed interest.
Jon reached for bread.
Ygritte took it first.
Val took his cup.
Jon stared forward.
"I miss political meetings."
Ygritte placed bread upon his plate.
"No, you don't."
"I miss the White Walkers."
Tormund nodded.
"Aye. They were easier."
Both women turned toward him.
Tormund lowered his eyes.
"Terrifying creatures. Very dangerous. Nothing easy about them."
Breakfast continued.
Or attempted to.
Every few moments, another person congratulated Jon.
Several giants offered advice concerning children.
None of it was useful.
Tormund continued collecting winnings until Jon ordered the coins confiscated.
Tormund declared this royal tyranny.
Jon declared that the treasury needed additional funds.
The Finance Minister supported the king.
That ended the argument.
Eventually, Jon finished eating and stood.
"I have work."
Ygritte remained seated.
"No."
Jon looked at her.
"No?"
"You are taking the day away from work."
"I have three meetings."
"Cancelled."
"A railway inspection."
"Moved."
"A military report."
"Tormund can handle it."
Tormund's face fell.
Jon almost smiled.
"I did not approve any changes to my schedule."
A young minister approached the table carrying a ledger.
He looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Your Grace."
Jon turned toward him.
"What is it?"
The minister swallowed.
"Your schedule has been revised."
"By whose authority?"
The man glanced at Ygritte.
Then Val.
Then decided that death might be preferable to answering.
Jon followed his gaze.
"Explain."
The minister cleared his throat.
"Lady Ygritte and Lady Val have reserved the remainder of your day."
The hall became silent again.
Jon stared at him.
"For what?"
The minister looked desperately toward the doors.
"Personal matters."
Tormund fell from his bench laughing.
The entire hall erupted with him.
Jon closed his eyes.
Ygritte stood on one side.
Val stood on the other.
Both looked entirely too pleased.
Jon had negotiated with northern lords.
Faced kings.
Destroyed armies.
Defeated creatures of ice.
Built a kingdom from nothing.
Yet as Ygritte and Val each took one of his arms and led him away from the dining hall, Jon reached a troubling conclusion.
Building Winter's Heaven might not be the most difficult thing he had ever done.
Understanding the women inside it would be far harder.
End of Chapter 137
---------------------
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