Eddard VII

It seemed winter ended as soon as it began. Folk whispered hopefully about the Long Summer come at last, the one that never ends, but Eddard would not believe it. Lord Bolton suggested by raven that the fall of the wall, the return of the dragons, and peace with the Others would result in four seasons of equal length. This was how he interpreted the "balance" spoken of by the child of the forest. Mayhaps he was right. Lord Stark rode south through spring snowmelt not three months after the maesters of the Citadel declared true winter had arrived. Ned was grateful that Robb had returned without having to fight a battle, especially against a dragon. With the war done, the peace must be won as well, as Lord Bolton liked to say. It was the peace that Eddard would have a hand in, coming to the court of the dragon queen. He met his wife at the crossroads. "My lady, it has been too long," he whispered into her hair. Cat looked tired and wan, but no less beautiful. "Too long, Ned." They held each other for a time. When they parted, Eddard allowed himself a smile. "Are you excited? Our Bran will be king!" His wife's smile grew strained. Anyone else might've missed it. "So he will, my lord, and Bolton Hand to Daenerys Targaryen." "A finer choice I couldn't name. They said he had Riverrun's south tower rebuilt in a blink."She blinked. "That's so, and the portcullis at the water gate. My castle has already recovered. Would that House Tully were as fortunate." Catelyn meant the loss of the paramountcy, no doubt, but Bolton's proposal made sense. Merging the lands watered by the Trident and the Blackwater Rush would allow the realm to recover from the loss of King's Landing. In time, that city might even be rebuilt. In any case, a strong overlord would save Cat the burden of managing overmighty vassals. Being sworn directly to the throne had many benefits. Trade would no doubt increase with this new city. Eddard knew firsthand. Dreadport's customs now accounted for a tenth of Winterfell's income. What might a queenly city bring? They rode together past Darry to the very mouth of the Trident, where their horses began to snort and shy. They smelled giant and mammoth if Eddard was any judge. Sure enough, they came to a great clearing where giants with spades as big as trees were digging, clearing, and leveling. Mammoths dragged sledges piled high with black stone to a staging area where stonecutters were going over the heterogeneous pieces and carving blocks. Men of many colors and hues worked as efficiently as ants, hauling and carrying and planting stakes with strings to mark out different plots. A soldier with a Dreadfort banner flagged them down. "Milord, the queen is at her lessons with the Grand Maester, but she will be pleased if you would attend her presently." Stark noted with approval that Queen Daenerys was taking her studies so seriously. The Bolton man led them to a tent where the silver-haired beauty was struggling with a slate and chalk. Two knights parted the tent flap to admit Ned and his lady wife. "Why must a queen know the secrets of circles and triangles?" she complained. "I don't want you flying too far afield until you know how to shoot an azimuth," said the Hand, who had been standing over her. "I flew from Asshai all the way to Westeros!" she replied indignantly. "A lucky thing it was, Your Grace," said the Grand Maester, a beefy middle-aged man with fingers thick as sausages. "Now that you are queen, we ought not to leave it to luck, don't you think?" "Landnav is important!" added Arya. Ah! Ned had not thought to see his daughter here! "Landnav?" he tried the unfamiliar word. "Land navigation," Arya explained. "Lord Domeric was just as cruel to Brad and me when we were squires at the Dreadfort, Your Grace.""The cruelest man in the Seven Kingdoms!" wailed Queen Daenerys. "I had not thought being a queen would be quite like this." "Would it help if I told you that knowing these things has saved my life more than once?" asked Lord Bolton. The queen sighed. "Very well, I take your point, my lord. I just wish it was easier." "There is no NovelPhoenix to geometry, I'm afraid, Your Grace. Ah, might I present Lord Stark, your Warden of the North, and his lady wife, who holds Riverrun for you?" Grateful for the interruption, the beautiful queen sprang to her feet and greeted them warmly. "I am glad to see you both! In time you will be my goodfather and goodmother. Bran is well, if you're wondering." "Where is he now?" Cat asked. "Flying," Daenerys answered happily. "He's been up with Viserion half a hundred times already. It cheers him so. It gladens my heart to see him smile." She looked away and spoke under her breath. "Would that I could join him.""Bran finished his lessons like a good boy," Lord Bolton said sternly. While the queen was pouting, another woman entered. She was slender and had the ebon skin of a Summer Islander. "This is Sarella Blackwood, one of my, well, I suppose you'd call them helpers," explained the Grand Maester. "What is it, Sarella?" "Two matters of urgent business for our queen. Do you want the boy or the girl first?" This question she posed to Daenerys herself. "Boy," the queen decided after a moment of thought. To Ned's astonishment, a servant led in Jon Snow, grown to manhood. He had a small child in his arms, and two others tugging at his breeches. Their coloring was unmistakably Targaryen. The queen noticed as well. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source."Who might you be, ser?" Jon looked uncomfortable. "Well, er, that is a complicated question, Your Grace.""Might as well let her have it, Jon," Sarella said. Then Jon noticed Ned. "Oh! Father, I, that is, I mean, I have a pretty good idea who my mother is."Cat fixed Jon with a glare. Her eyes roved rapidly over the children at his side. The silver hair, the violet eyes. Everyone else in the tent must be doing the same. "Jon," Eddard began, but Sarella Blackwood cut him off. "Is the son of Lyanna Stark and the queen's brother, Prince Rhaegar.""What?" his wife demanded breathlessly. She looked at Ned, eyes watery with hurt and betrayal. "My lady," Ned said, but when he tried to explain, his wits deserted him. Instead, the Queen's Hand spoke up. "All right, this is a matter of state security. As I see it, we've got two choices: we admit the truth publicly or suppress it somehow. Is it the truth, Lord Stark?""It is," Ned confirmed tiredly. This was not how he would have wished this conversation to go. Bolton looked at the queen. "This man and these children are your own blood. What would you do with that information?" Daenerys looked as helpless as Ned felt. "I'm not sure." Just like in battle, Lord Domeric rapidly took charge. "Very well. Let's hear what Jon Snow wants. Do you wish to be a part of the royal family, ser?" "I'm not sure either," he answered. The lord of the Dreadfort frowned thoughtfully. "Let's see, let's see, what if we legitimized the children as Ullers and didn't tell anyone you were of royal blood?" "Carmyn would love that!" Jon replied brightly. "Right then, that's the choice. Uller or Targaryen. What will it be, Your Grace?" "You're asking me?" "You are the queen." "Lord Domeric, why can't you make the decision for me?" "That sets a bad precedent, Your Grace. People will say I rule through you. As Hand, my remit is to carry out your royal commands, no more, no less. If I have a proposal, I bring it to you for approval." "Then make a proposal!" "I think we should go the Uller route, but make a special note of Jon and his children in case something should go wrong. If you and Bran fail to produce an heir within a certain number of years, for example. Remember, the final choice is yours. You can tell me 'no'. In fact, it is good for you to go against me sometimes." Daenerys smiled cheekily. "Well, in this, I don't particularly wish to refuse you. Uller it is."Bolton nodded. "Let it be as you say. Ser Jon Uller, we'll have papers drawn up for you at the chancery within a few days. Well, when we get a chance to build a chancery. You may go." Jon bowed and left the tent, leaving Ned in a state of floating unreality. Had that truly happened? Was he dreaming? After him came none other than Shireen Baratheon, being led in by a middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face. There was a leather pouch hanging from a thong around his neck. That could only be Davos Seaworth. "I'm to pledge fealty," Shireen said. Ned was even more thunderstruck. "You wish to give up your claim, Princess?" The girl smiled gently. "There is a boy I wish to marry. He is no fit consort for a queen, but the lady of Storm's End could wed the son of one of her lords bannermen without too many complaints. That will not be a problem, I trust?" Shireen looked at the queen, who looked at Domeric. "It won't. We shall be happy to confirm you as lady of Storm's End, and all its land and incomes. As a matter of fact, why don't we head to the throne? It was recently completed, I'm told." Daenerys leapt to her feet delightedly. "It is a lovely throne. I never saw the iron one, but this is better. You'll see." There was nothing for Eddard to do but follow the queen and her Hand as they made their way through a dirt path to a small tower of black stone, one of the first to be raised by the looks of it. Inside, they found a throne of black iron streaked with red. The cushion and armrests had leather upholstery, and the high back was wrought in the shape of a dragon's mouth looming overhead with black wings wrapping around the sides.

"Gods be good, is that all Valyrian steel?" Ned asked in wonder.

"Oh, yes," Lord Domeric confirmed, sounding terribly pleased with himself. "Where did you get all the metal?" Cat asked, the first words she'd spoken in some time. She sounded raw. "Euron Greyjoy had a full suit of Valyrian plate, if you can believe it. That would make many a sword, but what better flex, I ask you, than making a throne?""But it's so large!" Eddard was forced to say. The steel dragon looking over the throne had to be ten feet high! "Beat it very, very thin. You'd be amazed how much surface area you can get, Lord Stark. Valyrian steel is so strong, it doesn't need to be thick to hold such a shape." Queen Daenerys sat upon the throne lightly, looking very regal indeed, with the big black dragon looming over her. One by one, starting with Eddard himself, they knelt and swore to the Dragon Throne of Rivendell.