15 Ill Tidings
Author's note: Back again, and we are now at more than 10k words of content for the week.
I don't know if any of you guys write, but sometimes you just get inspiration for different stories as you write, and sometimes you just can't continue until you've at least explored the ideas that hit you. So yeah, I ended up writing 10k words for a multiverse OP protagonist fic and 8k for a HP Goblet of Fire fic, as well as 4k for HP post Chamber of Secrets fic... So yeah... Not my smartest decision, but since I finally got those thoughts out my system, I could finally finish the 15th chapter.
Please enjoy!
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Winterfell, The North - 289 AC
POV | Eddard Stark
He heard the runner from a distance, as the gravel crunched beneath his feet. "Milord! Two riders are approaching on beasts! It looks like Lord Benjen and Jon Snow!"
Eddard raised an eyebrow in surprise. They were supposed to arrive in a moon, not today. 'Riding on beasts though, maybe they had actually grown as big as Jon mentioned in his letters.'
"Thank you, can you help find the boys? I'll find the others."
"No worries, Milord! I met them all on my way here. They are all getting ready to receive them. Lady Catelyn even sent for the cooks to prepare a feast for your brother, milord!" The runner answered enthusiastically.
Eddard gave him a curt nod before he allowed him to retire for the day. He put on his cloak and walked out to the courtyard where he saw his family as well as the boys he had decided to foster alongside Robb.
As he looked at them goofing around, he could not help but feel slightly nostalgic. He remembered better times when his whole family was alive, and he was goofing around with his own siblings and friends. 'Winter came, and the price was heavy indeed.'
He heard a loud roar from Wintertown, and the guards all straightened up. Less than 10 seconds later, Benjen and Aegon burst into the courtyard riding on a monstrously large beast and a shadowcat. 'Fenris and Hel if I remember correctly.'
They were followed swiftly by a white tiger and two large wolves. 'By the Old Gods. Did he find Direwolves?'
Benjen looked slightly pale atop Fenris whilst Aegon had an earsplitting grin. They were clad in black and grey fur coats respectively, a clear sign that one was a brother of The Night's Watch and the other was not.
"Welcome." Eddard intoned with a slight smile on his usually stoic face. The cowering boys standing behind his heir in shock, amused him greatly. Robb was not the least afraid of his brother's companions. Awe was all Lord Stark could see on his son's face.
Benjen looked stiff and uncomfortable as he dismounted the great predator he was riding, whilst Aegon jumped of the shadowcat in one smooth motion that made it look as if he was born from the creature himself.
Aegon was just about to speak, as a small projectile of red and blue collided with his midriff. Sansa clung to him for dear life, and the large grin he had on his face turned into a tender smile full of affection.
"Hello, my sweet, have you missed me?" The boy almost whispered as he lowered himself to one knee and hugged her back comfortingly.
The little girl started sobbing as she nodded into the crook of his neck. Eddard looked upon the adorable sight in front of him, and for that moment, he felt that all was right in the world.
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Winterfell, The North - 289 AC
POV | Catelyn Stark/Tully
'What are you supposed to do, when your own son is the perfect heir in all imagined scenarios, yet is continuously surpassed by an anomaly?' Catelyn had been asking herself that question for years, and she still had not found a proper answer to it.
Robb was everything she could have ever hoped for. Smart beyond his years, strong, capable, charismatic, handsome, and the list just kept going… 'If he would just believe in the 7, then… He is going to be Lord Stark, so that might not be prudent, but I digress, what more could anyone hope for in one son?' Yet it somehow was not enough.
She looked upon the bastard as he rode into the Courtyard on a monstrous Shadowcat. He had obviously grown. In all aspects, and she could not help but loathe his existence.
She had grown up with a few principles engrained into her very being.
She would marry for power to her family, she would birth heirs for her husband to be, she would hold herself with honor, and she would be dutiful. If she did that, then everything else would fall into place. If she did not, then she would most likely be divorced by her husband to be, and her father would not support her, if she dishonored the family.
'Have I not done everything that was expected of me? Have I not been pious? Have I not been a dutiful wife, a dutiful Lady of the Castle?!'
She could feel her whole body shaking, doubly so as her sweet little Sansa hugged the bastard. Whether it was due to rage, hopelessness, or fear for her children, she did not know.
'I have given my husband two sons and two daughters… Why will my gods not keep them safe from this abomination?'
At this point she was just going through the motions. Greeting her good brother and moving towards the Great Hall, where the food would be served. Her little Bran was the only one who could distract her thoughts from the impending doom she was feeling.
Her ears were buzzing as she tried to listen to her husband, she heard him ask the bastard about his time at The Wall. 'Couldn't he have stayed?' She was starting to feel lethargic, and she could barely hear the answer. 'Nothing good, I presume. What could he learn from criminals, except for stealing my children's birthright?'
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to center herself. It would be shameful if her good brother talked to her, and she stayed unresponsive. 'You haven't seen them both for two years, and the bastard is leaving soon anyway. Stop making the problem bigger than it is.'
"Sansa, you shouldn't believe your brother here, he is forgetting his most important duty at The Wall." Her good brother's voice was the first thing she heard as she started concentrating on the current situation.
'Of course, he lied. He is born of deceit.'
"Oi, uncle, don't make me look bad now. I just decided not to mention that part." His hateful voice was as smooth and full of charisma as always. 'Born for evil.'
"I am not. What, you don't want to let them hear you sing?" Benjen said with mirth in his voice. 'When did the bastard learn to sing?' Benjen continued, "little Jon here has a talent for singing and writing his own songs."
The bastard sent his uncle a chilling look, and it looked like the older man gulped before his eyes widened slightly in panic. She even noticed her husband tensing with slight panic in his eyes. 'What am I missing here? Are these three keeping secrets?'
Her thoughts were running a mile a minute as she tried to comprehend the nonverbal exchange that just happened. Her thoughts were turning continuously darker as she imagined her husband kicking herself and their children out so he could marry the bastard's mother.
'Ned wouldn't… Would he? Her whole world felt like it was collapsing around her. 'Surely not… But then why won't he just tell me who she is? Why is he keeping secrets from me even after 9 years and 4 children.'
She clenched her fists as she finally realized the truth of it. 'He doesn't love me. I have given my everything. My love, my loyalty, and everything else, but still, he cannot even trust me.' Her lips curled downwards as she tried to control her tears.
'Family, Duty, Honor. It could have been worse. At least I love him, and he doesn't dislike me, I think. Better than hate.'
"Please Jon, won't you sing for me?" Sansa chirped in with a pleading tone.
He was visibly struggling before he relented. "Sure, little wolf. I'll sing a song for you. What do you want me to sing?"
A sharp smack sounded, as if someone swung a whip, and the entire hall turned towards the sound. An utterly embarrassed Eddard Karstark was trying to find a hole to crawl into, whilst the entire Hall filled with laughter. Catelyn could not help but smile at that. 'At least some can still be happy.'
As the Hall quieted down slightly, she saw Sansa tilt her head slightly to the right, with an adorable pout and a finger at her lip, as she thought her decision through. The five name days girl was looking around to find some inspiration for the song she wanted.
"Sing about me and Robb! Uh, and Arya and Bran!" She said, sounding mightily excited by the idea.
Whatever had bothered Snow before, seemed to melt away slightly as he looked upon Sansa with fond eyes. "I have just the song, then. Let me just grab the Harp, first."
"You play the harp, too?" Domeric Bolton exclaimed from his seat with the liveliest expression Catelyn had ever seen on the reserved boy's face.
The boy smiled slightly as he answered. "I'll let you judge." He ran his hand through the strings of the ornate Harp that was kept for possible bards in the Hall, before he started playing an interesting melody.
'None of the Stark's have ever shown any love for playing music. Sansa is the only one… If the boy's mother is Ashara, it still doesn't make sense.' He turned slightly on his seat, and Catelyn scrutinized the boy's face for the first time in years.
'280 AC. The Rebellion. Ashara. Martial Talent. Purple Eyes. Handsome. Black Hair. Everything points towards that union. Even his height seems to taunt that he was born in 279 AC instead. Yet, why did they panic when he was told to sing, as if some great secret would be revealed by it.'
Catelyn was absolutely sure that something vital to answer her questions had just escaped her notice. Her head was abuzz with thoughts, but nothing seemed to fit. 'Those cheekbones. Where have I seen them? His hair is black, and not extremely dark brown like Brandon, Ned, and Ashara. Purple eyes.'
He cleared his throat and started singing.
♫ "Hey brother
There's an endless road to rediscover
Hey sister
Know that water's sweet, but blood is thicker
Oh, if the sky comes falling down
For you
There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do." ♫
Her eyes widened in shock as his voice spread throughout the Hall and mesmerized everyone there. Her daughter looked absolutely delighted by the song, and the others seemed to bask in the aura he emitted. If she was not as frightened by what she had discovered, she would have likely been similarly smitten.
'He lied to me. For nine years I thought he loved the boy's mother more than me, and he just might, but only as a sister. He did not break his vows to me.' She shook slightly as she reflected on how she had treated her nephew. 'Family. Duty. Honor.'
Catelyn cried. Doubly so when she listened to the words of his song.
♫ "What if I'm far from home?
Oh brother, I will hear you call
What if I lose it all?
Oh sister, I will help you out
Oh, if the sky comes falling down
For you
There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do." ♫
'Dear Gods, why didn't I keep my promise?' She looked upon Jon's visage again. 'Is that even his name?' She traced his entire face. 'The best of Targaryen and Stark, a Prince of the Realms. How did I never notice?'
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Winterfell, The Courtyard - 289 AC
POV | Aegon Targaryen
A couple of days had passed since he was asked to play, and so many things had happened that Aegon was feeling slightly overwhelmed. He had played with his two new siblings. Ramsey Snow was killed by Mimir. He made friends with the kids being fostered here, and he had finally reunited with Robb and Sansa.
'I have been productive.'
His musings were interrupted by Ser Rodrik. "Come on, little Bard - Let's see if you have kept your skills sharp at The Wall!"
"Aye Ser, send out a handful, please. My size is not as much of an impediment as it used to be."
"Hm, it seems Snow is confident!" Rodrik Forrester exclaimed. He still had not seen the martial prowess of the Bastard of Winterfell. Like the rest of The North, he had only heard rumors about his killing of Wildlings. Something that had made Aegon and Robb immensely popular.
"My brother trains harder than anyone else. He'll win." Robb voiced out in a lower but more confident voice.
Aegon smiled. His opponents walked towards him until they were standing in a line. 'They will regret that soon.'
Twenty seconds later and they were groaning in embarrassment and pain on the cold ground. 'Tis not even a challenge.' His thoughts turned slightly haughty for a few seconds before he shook it off. 'I shake it off, shake it off… Don't ever sing Taylor Swift in your mind again. Ugh. I think I just lost my self-respect for a second.'
He looked at his downed opponents. They were obviously younger guards. Five and ten to nine and ten name days, at most. 'They seem to be in decent shape, but nothing compared to myself.'
His figure was something his old self would have killed for. 'Alas, genetics are unfair sometimes. Besides, the number of calories I have had to eat to sustain my growth would have made most elders pale in fright. If my storage bags didn't keep the food fresh, it would have been impossible to sustain for the last two years. 10k calories a day, for two years is 7.3m calories. That's possibly more than the average peasant male eats in a decade…'
He looked at his hands and the hardened skin that encased it. 'No fucking wonder I'm so strong.'
"Well done, boy. I don't know who is teaching you at The Wall, but he is definitely doing right by you. The hesitation you used to have when fighting, is gone. That's good." Rodrik commented, ending Aegon's realization of why exactly he could beat trained young adults and teenagers already.
"Thanks, Ser Alliser Thorne is definitely a difficult taskmaster." Just as the words left his mouth, he saw a calculating look enter Rodrik's eyes before he nodded and Aegon was dismissed by the Master-at-Arms.
Aegon walked towards the other boys with a slight smile on his face. Robb had a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and the others looked immensely surprised.
"That was bloody great, Jon! The wolf is strong in you." Commented an enthusiastic Torrhen Karstark. Aegon gave him a high five, before the group of boys left towards the hot springs. Something that had turned apparently into something of a ritual since the other's started fostering here.
They walked down into the slightly foggy room, which was lit up by glass encased oil lamps along the walls. It was the first time Aegon had been here, and he could not help but stare at the amount of magic there was here.
'At least 60 percent of The Wall's natural magic levels. That's amazing considering the difference in size and utility.'
They all dropped their sweaty clothing, before they jumped into the soothing springs that were warmed by the furnaces of the world themselves. The very same core that was behind the Fourteen Flames. Or a Giant Dragon if the Smallfolk were to be believed. Aegon did not think so. He would have sensed it if it was a dragon.
'Too bad my father hadn't left me one. The arse could at least have brought one with him to the Tower…' He had asked his uncle yesterday, but without luck. His mother's maiden cloak as well as cloak of House Targaryen and a signed certificate of his birth. Signed by a Maester; dead, a septon; dead, Arthur Dayne; still alive, and his mother Lyanna Stark. There was also some sentimental poetry, which was quite cute.
'If my father wasn't a guy in his mid-twenties seducing a sixteen-year-old. Ugh. I need to stop thinking like someone of Earth. That shit is normal here. Walder Frey is 90, and he marries younger girls still. The age difference between my parents was actually quite negligible all things considered.'
He was brought out of his thoughts by Robb, who asked him a question. "Brother, I heard Uncle Benjen was talking about returning soon. Will you be joining him?" He sounded almost downtrodden by the idea of it, and Aegon mulled it over.
"I might be able to convince him to allow me to stay for a moon, since he doesn't want to ride Fenris again. I don't think the speed agrees with him." He answered with a grin.
His whole face lit up with a grin, "that's great! There's so much stuff we have to do!"
Domeric chimed in as well with a slight smirk: "Yeah, I still have to teach you how to play the harp properly."
"Oi, I'm good!" "Yes, you play like a fair maid with broken fingers." "Fuck you, Torrhen."
All the boys laughed at Aegon's plight, and he could not help but join them in the merry moment. After they had finished laughing at his harp playing, 'I am really not that bad, it's not my fault that Domeric is so bloody good at it', Torrhen the Explorer made an inquiry.
"What do You think of doing some exploring, maybe seeing if we can sneak into the crypts and see the Winter Kings?"
Robb seemed to contemplate, and Aegon definitely agreed with the idea. He had been down there multiple times before he left for The Wall, to pay respects to his mother, but he had never been down there with Mage Sight. If he got lucky, they might find some hidden treasures down there.
'Heck, Mushroom, the court fool for Rhaenyra Targaryen, wrote that Vermax left eggs in the Crypt, when Jacaerys Velaryon beseeched Cregan Stark for his help. The only one who ever disputed his claims was Eustace, a supporter of Aegon II, Rhaenyra's half-brother and enemy. His claims may just hold some truth to them if I am lucky. Cregan could have asked for eggs as collateral to ensure he wouldn't be backstabbed later on, though that didn't amount to much in the end… It's good that he whooped their asses during The Hour of The Wolf.'
Robb started nodding slowly. He was probably just as curious about the lower levels of The Crypts as the rest of them, since they had never been allowed into lower levels than where their Uncle, Grandfather and Aunt were laid to rest.
"It's a good idea, but we need a plan to distract the two guards who usually stand in front of it. My father must not know where we went, otherwise we might be denied access, and he would probably have more guards stationed to ensure we follow his directions."
Domeric, the most level-headed among them, decided to interfere slightly here. "If Lord Stark doesn't want us to go down there, he probably has good reasons. Maybe we shouldn't?"
"Pish posh, Domeric, aren't you a Bolton? I thought you would love to see dead Winter Kings." Eddard the Dumb asked with a curl to his lips, 'I knew the Karstarks didn't like the Bolton, but that was positively idiotic to say out loud.'
Two loud smacks were heard as Torrhen's, and Robb's hands collided with the back of Eddard's head.
"Aaargh! Fuck You! What was that for?" The boy exclaimed.
""For being an idiot!"" Robb and Torrhen shouted back in unison. Aegon looked at Domeric's expression and realized he had taken it badly. 'Figures. He IS only 11 years old.'
Domeric almost bit out his response, "I am not a Red King, and Robb is my brother, Lord Stark has been like a father to me, and I see Sansa, Arya, and Bran as my own siblings. I don't want to see any Starks dead" before he stalked out of the hot springs leaving the rest of them quiet.
"Karstark. Don't you ever fucking say something like that again." Robb sent him a scathing look, before he shook his head in exasperation.
"I'll go after him, don't worry about it." Aegon intervened for the first time, before he pulled himself out of the hot water, and mumbled under his breath. "Way to kill the mood."
Aegon took his bundle of clothing quickly. Took out a knife made entirely of iron and walked into the corridor before he dropped the bundle on the floor and concentrated his pyromancy on the weapon. It turned into a blazing inferno for a second that left him dry and warm.
He put on his breeches before he started rushing after Domeric. Tracking and catching up with him was all too easy with his enhanced senses and incredible agility.
He found the boy sitting on the top of a disused staircase that led up to a tower that had not been utilized for the last hundred years. Winterfell was that huge.
Domeric was sitting with his knees pulled close to his chest, and his chin resting in the slight gap between his knees. He was staring into the ground, and by the slight sound of sniffling, he had obviously been crying. 'By the sounds of crying I heard as I followed him, he was quite fast at getting it under control.'
"Domeric. You, okay?" asked Aegon eloquently. 'I need to practice how to sooth kids who aren't Sansa… I can't exactly cuddle him back to happiness… Ugh, boys are so troublesome.'
He sniffled again and whispered. "It's not fair." Aegon sat down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder to offer some support.
"What's not fair?" he asked.
"Everybody hates me because of my name. It's cursed."
"Don't say that. There is nothing cursed about being a Bolton." Even Aegon did not believe what he just said. 'Hey, if it helps, then it helps.'
Domeric laughed at that. A mirthless laugh that should not escape the throat of a boy of 11 name days. "That's a lie, and we both know it. 'Our Blades are Sharp.' Those words and our Banner of a flayed man. That should say plenty about us."
Now, Aegon had not done a ritual that had enhanced his instincts, but his enhanced senses, his own experiences with people, and his extremely finetuned intuition told him that he was at a crossroads right now.
If he soothed Domeric further, the boy would probably pull back, act like he was fine now, and stop talking. Then Aegon might lose whatever camaraderie he could have with the Heir of The Dreadfort, because Domeric would start seeing him as someone who spoke falsely and could not be trusted.
On the other hand, if he allowed their trust to build by being truthful to him, he might gain a friend for life in the lonely and troubled boy. The choice was obvious to Aegon, and not because of the potential of an ally in this moment. Aegon was not that kind of person, and he hoped he would never become such a person.
Yes, he would need allies, but that did not mean he would only help people because they could be valuable in the future. He helped people because it was the right thing to do, and if that resulted in friendship and loyalty, then it would be a nice bonus. A double edged one, albeit.
Aegon was not the type of person who would turn his back on a true friend. In this moment, he truly felt that Domeric could become one such friend.
Aegon nodded slowly at Domeric's words, and as he did, he could hear Domeric's heartbeat rise in what he believed to be anticipation.
"The history of your House is certainly gruesome. I mean, flaying your enemies and wearing their skin as capes is fucked up."
Domeric let out a brief laugh of relief, because of the honest words, and Aegon continued, "that doesn't mean it has to stay that way. The words of your House can be turned honorable and," he smiled and seemed to think his choice of words through, "cool. If you become better at using your sword and dagger."
Domeric's face broke into a smile at that. "You really think so?"
"Of course. When you become Lord Bolton, everything will be in your hands. If you truly wish to, you can definitely change the public view on your House. Teach your ways to your sons and let them continue your legacy." Aegon answered in a confident voice.
Domeric exhaled deeply through his nose. He hesitated before he spoke in his quiet voice. "I've thought about it so many times. I hate the looks I get when I introduce myself. People think I don't notice, but I do. My father likes the fear and disgust, but I hate it." He seemed to hesitate slightly, before he continued. "I never had any friends before I came here. Robb, Rodrik and Torrhen were my first friends, and I thought that Eddard was finally coming around, but…"
Aegon put his arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a brotherly side-hug.
"Come on, now. He was just being a jackass, besides, Torrhen and Robb were still cursing him, when I left the springs. So, you definitely have a couple of great friends in those two." Aegon smiled slightly, as he heard the words Robb was shouting at Eddard, he could still hear them through the walls, and he had a tough time not laughing.
Domeric smiled, "they're definitely good friends." The boy seemed to brighten up at the thought. He hesitated slightly before he asked. "Why did you come after me? We have only known each other for a few days."
"Because you're a good person, and you seemed like you could use a friend."
Domeric brightened further. "We're friends, then?"
"Of course."
He seemed to consider his next words before he finally asked tentatively. "Can you help me become better with the dagger and sword?"
Aegon nodded before he lifted Domeric onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Aaah, put me down Jon!"
"Negative. Time waits for no one, my young student."
"Come on! We just bathed; we cannot train now! And I'm older than you!"
Aegon seemed to consider Domeric's words. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Tomorrow."
Domeric nodded as well, "tomorrow. Now put me down!" Aegon laughed at the whine that entered Domeric's voice before he asked: "Feeling better now?"
The young Bolton punched his shoulder, and Aegon sent him a deadpan look. The tension grew, until they both started laughing. "Let's get some food." "Yes."
Both boys were smiling broadly at their newly formed friendship.
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Winterfell, The Maester's Solar | 289 AC
POV | Maester Luwin
The old Maester was treating the Ravens, a skill he had learned through moons of tireless practice in Ravenry, not the hardest link to forge for an ambitious and clever Maester, but a very useful skill, nonetheless.
Just as he had checked up on the last, a raven flew into the Ravens Roost of The Maester's Solar. He walked over to it swiftly and as soon as he saw the Crowned Stag and Falcon on the stamps, he collected the letters and rushed towards The Lord's solar.
'One of the stamps would usually just have been a missive, but the Coats of Arms of the King and the Hand, never spells good or boring news.'
He knocked on Lord Stark's door and was allowed entry almost immediately.
"Maester Luwin, you seem in a hurry?" his Lord asked with a curious lilt in his voice.
"Aye, My Lord. I fear I may be bringing grave news from The South. A letter with a Falcon and Crowned Stag emblazoned on it." Answered the loyal Maester.
Lord Stark tensed. When a Lord Paramount received such a letter it was either an order to call the banners or a summoning. Two scenarios he had hoped would never hold true. "Let's see it then."
Luwin walked towards him and gave him the letter with a slight tremble in his hands. 'Please, Gods, let it be just a greeting from his foster family, or an announcement of the crowned prince's betrothal.' He knew that was very unlikely, but he still hoped.
He looked at the rapidly changing expressions on Eddard's face, indifference, amusement, rage, lethargy, and finally the stoic expression of a true Lord Stark.
"Balon Greyjoy is attempting secession against The Iron Throne. He has burned down the Lannister Fleet at Lannisport. Call the banners, we are at war."
Luwin nodded and dread filled his heart. "As you will, My Lord."
'No peace lasts forever.'
As he closed the door behind him, he saw Eddard with an empty expression in his eyes, as he put his face in his hands.
As he rushed towards his solar, he met Jon who seemed to be walking towards his father. Jon smiled sadly at him, as if he already knew what was going on. 'He probably knows something is wrong at least, he always had good instincts.'
He though back on the expression of his Lord as he left the solar.
"And no war leaves a man whole." He whispered almost inaudibly as he walked briskly towards his solar.
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Author's note:
Hmm. I wonder what will happen with Catelyn now. She finally saw through the ruse. Benjen's jape turned into a slight problem. Aegon tried to sing a happier song than Jenny of Oldstones, but it wasn't enough, especially since Catelyn had a lot of doubts about Aegon's true parentage.
The price of Eddard not lying thoroughly and claiming Aegon to be from himself and Ashara. Will it change the game, or will it not?
And what are your thought's on Domeric? I quite like the slight snippets we get of his personality from canon, and I think he could be a good friend of Aegon. He is honorable and his father has already shown him the truth of the world, which has made him more mature than most his age. Roose did fail in curbing his loneliness, though, which is why he ended up being killed by Ramsay in my opinion.
Finally: The Greyjoy Rebellion! Should Aegon join? (I have already made a decision, but I am curious about your opinions)
