The Stag, The Falcon, The Wolf
"So he killed him, did he?" said Robert drunkenly, as Jon Arryn sighed. The news of his natural daughter's death had struck him harder than one would have thought, as he retreated into his cups once more. Only Jon Arryn did he allow in his presence, his disgust extending to even his Kingsguard and brother Renly.
"Yes," the Hand of the King responded, as he had before "Beat him to death with his own hands, in full view of my bannerman. When Lord Redfort asked for a quick death, he reluctantly obliged."
Reluctantly wasn't the word for it. Where had such anger and rage come from? Brynden's letters had never spoke thus of him.. though perhaps that was where it started. A loss of a mentor, Ungren's death at another's hands... Mya's was merely yet another in a line of problems for Ned's boy.
"He's got Brandon's passion," said Robert to himself "I saw him in a tavern brawl or two back then, he'd fight much the same... He'd have the same anger in him..."
"Your Grace?"
"Jon... the boy's too old," realizes the drunkard king aloud "You saw him yourself in the Vale. Did that look like a boy of thirteen years to you?"
"No," allowed the Lord of the Eyrie hesitantly "But it is not uncommon. The Cleganes for example are unnatural in size, and the boy is a bastard born after all. It is common wisdom."
"Common wisdom from a septon's mouth," says Robert contemptuously "They don't even father children!"
"Robert, you were saying?"
"He's ... he's too old," he explained again "Too old to be Ned's from the war. But not Brandon's."
"You think Jon Stormcrown is Brandon Stark's bastard? Robert..."
"Think about it, damn you!" protested the king "Who was more likely to slip his cock in a woman outside a marriage, Brandon or Ned? Who already had a marriage readied for them by Lord Rickard with House Tully? Brandon!"
"And who is the mother, then? Ned never spoke of her..."
"Ashara Dayne," confided Robert gleefully "She killed herself when Ned went to Starfall with Dawn. I thought it was over the Tully marriage taking him away from her, but what if she had given Brandon a son? A son Ned took from her! He couldn't leave his nephew in Dornish hands, could he? Not after King's Landing!"
"And so Ned takes the boy back with him, and brings the shame upon himself rather than Brandon?"
"Have you ever known Eddard Stark to speak ill of the dead?" the Baratheon king pressed "Have you ever known him to slight family? Do you think Catelyn Tully would have accepted the shame of her betrothed's bastard in her household, nephew to her current husband and cousin to her children? No, imagine the scandal. It'd have ruined relations between Houses Stark and Tully, broken the alliance even. Better Ned's bastard than Brandon."
"You speak some logic," Jon Arryn reluctantly allows "It could be possible-"
"Possible? It's the damn truth! And Ned hid it, for so many years..." at that Robert suddenly sulked "He didn't even tell me!"
"Speaking of sons, Robert... I was hoping to speak to you of Joffrey."
"Eh? What about the boy? He's not caused any trouble, has he?"
Besides having some hand in your daughter's death? No, I don't think you need to know that.
"No, not at all. But I do believe that it be for the best that he experience something of the Seven Kingdoms beyond the capital. I was hoping you would consider fostering him, as you were with me."
"You think my beloved wife would consider it?" said Robert bitingly as he took a swig of his goblet "Who would we even send him to? She wouldn't accept Ned, and Joffrey's not got the strength to face the North. House Tully has a gaggle of heirs already, but Joffrey's petty cruelty would only cause strife. My grandfather in the Stormlands perhaps..."
"I was thinking of
his grandfather," Jon Arryn confides "I have written to him occasionally regarding the development of his grandchildren, and if there is a man in the Seven Kingdoms who your wife will not reject out of hand, it would be him."
"Wouldn't hurt to trade him for another loan," the king muses in agreement "The coffers are running empty again from what you've told me."
"Your generosity has its costs, Robert. But I would rather we have some of the older loans forgiven first."
"Bugger generosity, Jon. I spend to entertain myself. Entertaining others merely makes it more acceptable."
"Yes, well... . He could take a stern hand with Joffrey's education, and teach him to rule well."
"Gods know I won't be doing either of those two," muttered his fosterling with an nod "So be it, then. Make the arrangements with Tywin, have him send an honour guard. Pick one of the Kingsguard to accompany him west, and send some of those lordlings we've got filling my court as squires and pages with him."
"As Your Grace commands."
The Lion's Den
He'd been distant for weeks. Throwing himself into training with Ser Aron Santagar, barely spending time in the presence of his father or siblings, almost always badgering her brother Jaime for help with his swordsmanship...
It was gratifying, to see them build something of a bond. Jaime's relationship with their children was something of a misnomer, but to share something with their eldest could only help that. But when Jaime came to her, and spoke of sordid deeds and bandits in the Vale, she knew she had to learn what she could on her own.
And so there she was, her and her son, and Jaime as watch and guardian.
"He didn't do it," confessed Joffrey suddenly "He... I..."
"Tell me, sweet thing."
"Father spoke of her before," admitted Joffrey "At Storm's End. When he came to King's Landing, I asked about her. Devan told me what he could... and I made arrangements."
At that, her heart stopped.
That her son would cleanse that slight upon her honour, that taint and challenge to her children... it was pleasing, if not even admirable. But recognized or not, legitimized or not... Mya Stone was still in some loose part recognizable as a member of the royal family. Loosely, she could even be called half-sister to Joffrey.
Accursed is the kinslayer...
"Who did you speak with, Joffrey? Who helped you?"
He mumbled the answer to here, and a sigh of relief came out. The man would not speak of this, she knew. Not when Robert would have his head or worse for his part in the matter. But she would have to carry that across to him most effectively. Perhaps later with Jaime...
"What possessed you to such risks?" Cersei said as she gently ruffled her son's hair "Your father has such a temper..."
"To punish him," Joffrey said half-choked "For what he said. For what he did, for that bastard."
"Bastard..."
"Stormcrown?" interrupted Jaime suddenly "You're talking about Ned Stark's bastard? Joffrey..."
"A proud name," Cersei allowed reluctantly "To honour the king who knighted him."
"Not his king," insisted her son as he looked at her with hatred in his eyes "His father."
At that, Cersei almost laughed. Had this been what had brought her darling boy's attention onto the northern mongrel?
"Joffrey, he is Lord Stark's bastard-"
"He's
a Stark bastard," insisted the crown prince as he got more upset "He looks like a Stark, like I look like you. But we're both father's sons. And everyone says he's only thirteen, but he doesn't look it."
"Well yes, but-"
"And Lord Stark probably hid him because of you and grandfather! You wouldn't have let him bring a bastard here, would you?"
"No, sweet thing..."
Even now, her lip curled at the thought of that bastard Robert had fathered in the Vale. He'd tried to bring her to court. He'd only stopped at her threats, forgotten about her until the Stormcrown boy came to Storm's End. And then he'd brought it up again...
Could it be? Robert... and
Lyanna Stark?
Quickly, she thought back. Rhaegar Targaryen had taken Lyanna Stark in the Riverlands, travelling as she had been between the Tullys and the Arryns and other friends of House Stark. There was time enough for it, enough to conceal the bastard's age through childhood. By all accounts, it was into his second decade that the differences became clear enough, that he looked older than his supposed age. A septon's wisdom would have it called a mark of bastardy, but here was the simpler answer.
He was Robert's son. A son through his beloved Lyanna Stark, a nephew of Eddard Stark of Winterfell, one hidden by him for fear of Lannister reprisal, as was visited on Houses Targaryen and Martell.
The name alone lent credence. Stormcrown, for the Stormlander king. A name much like Blackfyre, like the sword Aegon the Unworthy had gifted to his own bastard.
A sword now in the hands of Robert's own bastard.
A bastard whose ties and friendships counted three of the Great Lords.
A bastard who had claimed Harrenhal, a seat for kings.
She looked to her brother, to her love.
"Jaime..."
A Brother's Stand
Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun sighed.
It was not the first time he had done so in the last half hour, as he tried to parse through some of the events that had transpired with the boys.
Word had come from the Vale as to the Tourney of Redfort, by raven, and later by way of singers and bards eager to share tales for a seat at the table.
Word of Jon Stormcrown, his heir's bastard brother.
On the one hand, he had not been overly surprised. Butchery as that was to be expected from one born in wedlock as he was, albeit in vengeance for a murdered friend. It was understandable, and no doubt there would be those in the North who would give their approval. It even served his purposes in some sense, to have a mad dog on leash. If Tywin Lannister had Gregor Clegane... did he not have Jon Stormcrown?
What a confrontation that could be...
On the other hand, word had made its way to Bran, to his fosterlings. And there, trouble had arisen. The Bracken boy had made some foul comment as to Jon's nature, which saw Bran leap to his defense. An argument had ensued between the boys, with the Blackwood sons watching, an argument that had turned into a fight. Bran's nose was broken, and the Bracken boy had a bad bite wound and some bruises as the Blackwoods jumped in.
And now, here they were, all in front of him after a maester's attendance.
"Brandon," Hoster spoke as he looked upon his grandson "You will apologize for striking first. Understandable it might be to defend Jon, it is not acceptable for you to strike a guest of this house."
"But-"
"You will apologize."
"I'm sorry," mumbled the Stark-born Tully to the older Bracken boy "Sorry for biting you."
The Bracken boy briefly looked pleased, before Hoster turned his attention upon him and the Blackwoods.
"And you three are to apologize to one another. To shake hands and ask to start anew. However old your feud might be, you are guests in my home. You are here, representing yourselves as the best of your families. Since when did House Bracken ever have claim to strike at a Tully? Since when was House Blackwood known for rash action and not calm thought? What would your fathers think of this?"
Humiliated, the boys did as they were told as quickly as they could.
"You will also apologize to Bran, and ask his forgiveness. And then you will leave us."
They did that as well, with the Bracken boy muttering "good fight" underneath his breath before the trio fled, leaving Bran alone with his grandfather.
"What am I to make of this?" Hoster asked despairingly "Biting the boy.."
"He called Jon a monster," said the Tully heir from behind his mended nose "And he's bigger."
"Aye," said Hoster with a small laugh "He is bigger. But the Bracken boy may one day be Lord of Stone Hedge. Those Blackwoods one day might be knights in your service, Bran. You cannot do as you have done here today, and expect friendship and loyalty."
"But-"
"You stood up for yourself and for Jon," interrupted the Lord of Riverrun "And that is right. That is true. Family, Duty, Honour, you have kept the words close and I am proud of you for that, Bran. But anger has its place, and so does restraint."
"Is Jon a monster?" asked Bran quietly "He's not, is he? What they said..."
"What he is," Hoster says kindly "Is your brother. He may upset you or you may upset him, but he will always be your brother. He will be your shield as Robb will be your sword. They will stand for you, and you for them. Do not doubt that. And when he comes to visit again, you will see that. You will see your brother, and nothing else."
