4 Culture shock

Jon

Jon was just wide eyed as his boat coasted up to the little docks of this new land, the first thing he noticed about this place was the colour, vast amounts of trees that at first glance looked a subtle shade of red like the weirwoods in the north but in actual fact were a soft pink and at closer inspection, Jon realised they weren't leaves but flowers. 'I wonder if there's any trees growing winter roses'.

As he disembarked from his ship he noticed that everybody on the docks, who were working, stopped and looked at him. The look wasn't in disdain or disgust but of intrigue and interest, for once in his life he didn't feel uncomfortable with the whispers he could hear, it probably also helped that he didn't understand a word they were saying.

He followed the two sailors that had led him to this new land and made his way up a stone path that exited the docks, passing under a red archway that was like nothing he'd seen before. 'Absolutely everything is different and new, it's like an entirely different world' Jon thought to himself as they made their way through what seemed to be some sort of town. The buildings on the way to whatever their ultimate destination was were some of the most brilliant bits of architecture Jon had ever seen. Sloped roofs that were curved and made from strong looking wood, the buildings themselves were predominantly brown and white but he spotted a few that were built with the same red wood he'd seen used for the archway at the docks, these specific buildings also seemed to have green roofs instead of the dark brown ones. Jon was in awe of everything he'd seen up to now.

He was cut off from his daydreaming as a small furry creature ran across his path holding what looked to have been a large red berry, the thing was covered from head to toe with a brown grey fur, had a red almost human like face and a long tail which was currently being tugged at by two children who were clearly chasing the thing. Jon wanted to intervene but with one look from his guides, who shook their heads with a smile, Jon decided otherwise.

They carried on with their journey till they stopped and turned to Jon, the pair of men pointed up to a large set of stairs which led to the top of a steep hill. At the top of that hill was the most amazing building he had ever seen. The backdrop had a narrow waterfall that flowed from a cliff, he looked up and for the first time since arriving noticed the huge snow peaked mountain in front of him.

'Snow' Jon thought, the one thing he truly knows here or anywhere.

Jon shook the thoughts away as he once again looked upon this magnificent structure, this thing was 4 stories high with each floor being smaller than the last. Each of the floors had its own roof, sloped and curved like the rest of the buildings he'd seen so far and made from a soft grey wood. The balconies, pillars and archways were made from the popular red wood he'd seen as well and the whole thing was topped off with a golden sculpture at the peak of the building, it was stunning.

Jon climbed the stairs and reached the front of the building along with the two men, who he'd deduced were fishermen, and followed the pair in. He'd underestimated the size of the building and was shocked by the vast interior, clean white screens, that seemed to block out the view from the outside were on each of the walls and slid open to let fresh air flow through, Jon would say it gave the room an open feel. Low tables and cushions spread around the room, not a chair or stool in sight.

The pair of men led him into a small room that was screened off and motioned for him to sit on one of the cushions, he obliged and untied his scabbard from his waist. He'd left his belongings on his ship and just brought his sword, he couldn't be too careful in this foreign land. One of the men left the room and the other one was clearly left to keep an eye on him, which was confirmed when the man pointed at Jon's sword and shook his head in a negative manner. Understanding his gesture, Jon picked it up and placed it further across the room from him, but not too far for him to reach if this all went tits up.

The other man returned and beckoned Jon to stand up and follow him, the man who was already in the room with Jon picked up his scabbard and followed him out, 'Well, there goes that plan already' Jon thought.

He was led up a small narrow staircase and into a room with seven men, old men from what Jon could see. They were sat on the same type of cushions he'd been sitting on and were sat in a circle around the room. He believed this was their idea of court.

One of the men who had escorted him talks in their language to a man who looks between the age of forty and fifty and had short cropped golden hair with flecks of grey, he looks at me for a while before speaking to me.

"Skoros iksis aōha brōzi valītsos? (What is your name boy?)" The man asked him in fluent High Valyrian.

'Odd' He thought.

"Jon." He replied, still shocked somebody knew a language he did.

"Skoriot issi ao hen? (Where are you from?)" The man asked.

"Westeros, se jelmōñe dārion. (Westeros, the northern kingdom.)" Jon answered.

The man looked at him in shock.

"Gaomagon ao gīmigon se Quptenkys Ēngos? (Do you know the common tongue?)". The man asked, clear shock still evident on his face.

"I do." Jon replied as he looked around at the rest of the men who all looked confused with the conversation that was being had.

The man started talking again, "Good, your High Valyrian is alright but still a bit rusty." He ended with a grin.

"If you don't mind me asking, where are you from?" Jon asked.

"I'm from Westeros just like you boy." The man finished with a laugh.

'Unbelievable' Jon thought, he assumed he was the first westerosi to ever discover this foreign land but it turns out he wasn't, very annoying. Granted, he was glad there was somebody who knew his language and by the way he was speaking with the other men in the room, knew the native language as well. 'Looks like I've found my language teacher at least' he thought. But it still didn't change the fact that he'd thought he'd accomplished something nobody else had before. He was broken from his inner turmoil when the man spoke up.

"I've told the elders that you are a visitor from my homeland and you wish to contribute to our society, it is the only way you will be allowed to stay."

"Thank you, and please tell them I appreciate their hospitality." Jon replied as he nodded to the old men. The westerosi told them what he had said and they replied to the man, all without taking their eyes off of Jon.

"The Daimyo accept your thanks but will only be convinced of your sincerity based on your actions in the future." The westerosi replied.

"Daimyo?" Jon replied intrigued, the men in the room chuckled at his attempt at the word. He was happy that they chose to allow him entry to their land and not just straight up deny or kill him.

The westerosi answered "They're like the high lords we have back in Westeros but better."

"And what is this place called?" Jon asked with anticipation.

"Well this settlement we are in right now is called Kōchi but the island itself is called Shikoku. There are 3 other islands as well, Hokkaido, Honshu and Kyushu." The westerosi answered.

'Interesting' Jon pondered. He'd never heard of any of those places in maester Lewin's lessons or in any of the books he'd been reading.

"And what's your name if you don't mind me asking?" Jon finally asked.

"Gerion, Gerion Lannister, I must say it's a shock and a pleasure to meet a fellow westerosi." He answered with a cheeky grin as he held out his hand to shake.

Jon just froze on the spot.

He accepted his hand and shook it, still shocked at who's hand he was actually shaking.

"Gerion Lannister? Lord Tywin's Brother?" Jon asked.

"The very same. Some might even say it's my greatest achievement being related to the great Tywin Lannister." Gerion replied with what appeared to be his trademark grin.

"Everybody thinks you're dead you know, said you went searching for your houses ancestral sword and never returned." Jon replied.

"It's not like I could send them a raven telling them my whereabouts, the poor creature would perish before making it even half the journey." Gerion answered.

"True I suppose." Jon agreed, he did wonder though, "So...did you find what you were looking for?" Jon optimistically asked, he'd only ever seen one valyrian steel sword before and that was House Stark's ancestral great sword, Ice.

Gerion replied with that grin still plastered to his face "Not sure, you'll have to wait and see."

Jon was sure that grin was permanent.

"Well the Daimyo have agreed that you shall stay with me for the time being so I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get into any trouble, so grab your shit and follow me." Gerion said.

Jon was surprised but okay with the man's crudeness. He told him that all his belongings were on his boat so they both headed back to the docks to retrieve them. On the way there they conversed and learnt new things about each other, Jon told Gerion that he'd turned 15 two moons ago which Gerion was surprised about stating that Jon was well built for his age and that having a full beard at 15 was just weird.

"I have been at sea for over half a year, not really had the opportunity to shave." Jon defended.

"Took me till I was nearly 30 to grow a respectable beard, seeing you with one at 15 just pisses me off to be quite honest." Gerion jested.

With his belongings gathered, Jon followed Gerion towards his home, it was a quaint little house that was built with a surrounding garden that had an abundance of different trees, to Jon it seemed peaceful.

"Well, this is it, home away from home, it's not a castle but it's enough for me." Gerion said.

"Oh, don't worry, your home looks lovely and I really do appreciate you housing me." Jon replied.

"Not like I really had much of a choice, the Daimyo don't trust outsiders at the moment, took me a year or so before they warmed up to me. Things are a bit tense between the four islands lately so their attitude is understandable." Gerion said. Jon just looked at him with an inquisitively raised eyebrow.

"There's something brewing and the outcome isn't gonna be pleasant." Gerion mused.

"And what do you think the outcome will be?" Jon asked as he entered the house and put down his belongings.

"War." Gerion answered.

'Brilliant, been here 5 minutes and there's already death on the horizon'' Jon thought as he laid down on his bed Gerion had pointed out. He shut his eyes and let the darkness take him.

The Red Woman

Being led into the wide corridor by the Red Keep's guards to join the rest of the loyal subjects, Melisandre of Asshai pondered over her thoughts and visions that she had recently seen in her flames. Suffering and death were the main theme of them really but she couldn't help being drawn to the one vision she had seen only a moon ago.

All her visions had been the same for a very long time and she'd spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to find an answer on how to prevent the misery she had witnessed. Year after year with no answer, she was starting to get disheartened by it all but her Lord of Light had come through for her and given her a clue.

The slow crawl of people inched into the Great Hall with every person dealt with in court, she hadn't been waiting long so it seemed the King was being rather efficient today.

King Rhaegar, First of His Name sat stoically on the throne of a thousand swords and methodically dealt with the issues of the day. The man himself was a jovial King but open to bouts of melancholy if the masses were to be believed. Melisandre could see the hidden pain in his deep indigo eyes as he waved away a Lord to move on to the next one. They say the Queen is very similar to her husband and that it was all brought on when the rebellion ended 15 years ago, when Lyanna Stark...no, Lyanna Targaryen had perished giving birth to a babe that hadn't survived the birth either, both monarchs had clearly been in love and that loss had left a deep wound.

The King had done his absolute best trying to fix the problems his mad father had created but it would all be for nought if her visions rang true.

The King finished his business with the person in front to her, she was ushered forward, Well, here goes nothing' Melisandre thought as the person in front of her was escorted away. She bowed to the King and hoped that he would listen.

Jon

The sun had barely risen as Jon was woken up by Gerion at the butt crack of dawn, he'd slept like a baby, sleeping on a boat for half a year was not his idea of a good time so the first night's sleep on solid ground had been blissful.

"Wakey wakey rise and shine sleepy head." Gerion said as he shook Jon awake.

"Why? Why do you hate me so?" Jon mumbled.

"Time for you to wake and get yourself cleaned up, you stink. I've got breakfast on the go and when we've finished we'll go and meet the Swordmaster to evaluate your worth." Gerion replied.

"Swordmaster? What's that when it's at home?" Jon replied, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"It's like the master-at-arms from back home, I'm guessing you've got some experience with weapons?" Gerion asked.

"I dabble." Jon answered as he peeled his clothes away from himself, still half asleep.

"Well get a move on, he doesn't like tardiness and he'll be itching to break you in." Gerion said with that ever-present grin.

"You remind me of someone from back home, he was a cunt too." Jon replied as images of a certain squid prick came to mind. He should watch his tongue but he was never in the right state of mind when woken up and gods help the person who had woken him. Jon was best left to wake up on his own Robb would say after nearly getting his head knocked off for one too many snowy wake up calls, he'd completely stopped his daily ritual after seeing the face Jon had given him.

Thankfully, Gerion took it in his stride, "HA! Can't remember the last time somebody spoke to me like that, refreshing to say the least." Gerion replied whilst chuckling to himself. Jon believed they would get on quite well.

After he'd washed, trimmed his beard to tidy it up and eaten his breakfast which consisted of scrambled egg and an assortment of fruits and berries, Jon and Gerion headed out into the cool morning air and made their way to the Swordmaster's hall. The hall itself was at the edge of the town and had its own path down to what looked like a secluded portion of the beach.

Gerion spoke to him before they entered, "Watch that silver tongue of yours when speaking to Master Miyamoto, he'll fucking destroy you and I found that out the hard way."

"I'm guessing Master Miyamoto is this Swordmaster you've been banging on about." Jon guessed to which Gerion nodded.

"Master Miyamoto Musashi, best sword on the island and has trained everybody who is anybody here. Only the truly exceptional survive his lessons and teachings, unfortunately he gave up trying with me, said I was too proud to learn." Gerion said.

"You're not gonna cry on me, are you?" Jon japed and earned a jab to the arm.

"I can't wait to see him hurt muscles you didn't even know you had, HA." Gerion answered back.

"We'll see about that." Jon finished as Gerion led them into the hall.

3 hours later...

"Fuck." Jon said as he winced.

Gerion was right, the old Master had found hidden parts of him that now stung and ached after being run through the wringer.

"What in the seven hells was that?" He asked, as him and Gerion made their way towards the town square.

"That was you getting your shit kicked in and me having the time of my life watching it happen." Gerion replied with a smile.

"I've only just met the man, why does he hate me so much?" Jon replied.

"Trust me, if he hated you that wouldn't have lasted thirty minutes, the man has just invested three hours into you. You've intrigued him, he told me he sees a lot of potential for someone so young." Gerion answered.

A small swell of pride filled Jon's chest for a fleeting moment until he remembered how much he ached right now. Before he could complain he noticed again one of those little furry creatures he'd seen yesterday being chased by children once more, he turned to Gerion and asked what they were.

"It's called a Macaque, it's a species of monkey native to these islands, mischievous little devils they are. You should watch your pockets." Gerion answered.

They reached the middle of town and headed straight for the swordsmith on Master Miyamoto's recommendation. According to Gerion, Gorō Masamune is one of if not the best swordsmiths in the land, Jon was excited to see his wares.

As soon as they entered the store, Jon was instantly amazed at all the steel on display. Rows and rows of finely crafted weaponry lined the walls and shelves, subtly curved long swords and short swords, daggers, bows and an assortment of weapons that looked completely foreign to him.

Gerion explained to him all the different types of blade on display from the katana, wakizashi, odachi, and tachi to the more obscure weaponry like the kusarigama which was a vicious looking sickle and chain.

He also pointed out some of the rarer items on display and explained to Jon what they were made from.

"Dragonsteel? What the hell is dragonsteel?" Jon questioned.

"It's a bit like valyrian steel but lighter and holds a sharper edge, so to put it simply, it's just better." Gerion explained.

"Better than valyrian steel? How can you be so sure?" Jon asked, still sceptical.

"I tested dragonsteel and my valyrian steel against a blunted sparring sword, the valyrian steel took a chunk out of it, the dragonsteel cut it clean in half." Gerion answered.

'That's a gamechanger' Jon thought as he stared at the dragonsteel in question, they were all different shades from ice white to coal black, some had patterns and some were jewelled, they were beautiful.

It took a minute before Jon realised something, "Your valyrian steel?"

Gerion smirked.

Jon realised why he was smirking and started to smirk himself, "So you DID find Brightroar then?"

Gerion carried on smirking and just nodded, Jon had to see this when they headed back.

"I found something else as well that might interest you but you'll have to be a good boy if you want to see it." Gerion said.

"Prick." Jon muttered under his breath as Gerion laughed at his expression. They both left the store after browsing and handling some of the blades that were on offer, Gerion was quick to point out that dragonsteel can still be produced but is not sold to just anybody with a bit of coin. You have to earn the right to wield it.

Jon did wonder though, "Why's it called dragonsteel? Did they have dragons here as well?" Jon grinned. He tried to sound nonchalant about it but was very intrigued when Gerion answered.

"Did they?" Gerion grinned, "They still do."

"Fuck off, I'm calling bullshit right away." Jon denied but couldn't help feel a bubble of excitement brewing.

Gerion put his arm around Jon's shoulders and turned him to look towards the huge whitecapped mountain in the distance.

"You see that there?" Gerion said as he pointed to the top of said mountain, "That's called Mount Hakusan, it means 'White Mountain' in Nihongo. Nihongo is the name of the language that they speak here if you were wondering."

Jon rose an eyebrow at the name, "White Mountain? Bit boring isn't it?"

"Shut up and let me continue." Gerion chided. Jon motioned for him to carry on.

"It's one of the 'Three Holy Mountains' along with Mount Fuji and Mount Tateyama. All three of them are actually in fact volcanoes."

Jon was in awe whilst listening to Gerion, this thing was colossal and was easily peaking above the clouds.

"Inside of these volcanoes are said to be dormant creatures, winged creatures the size of entire villages, waiting to awake from their slumber." Gerion finished.

Jon rolled his eyes, he'd heard Old Nan's stories before and this one sounded like it came from her own mouth. "Those sound like some really big birds." Jon japed. "Oh god...he...here comes one now!" Jon cowered behind Gerion as he pointed up at a seagull.

"Get off me you annoying shit." Gerion pushed him towards the path up to his house as Jon laughed.

"You mock boy but these people hold strong beliefs to these creatures, so much so they built temples in homage, do not disrespect the culture unless you want to be thrown back into the sea." Gerion chastised. Jon to his credit apologised for not knowing.

Gerion talked a bit more about these mythical creatures as they made their way back to his home for their lunch, not much was known about them and nobody had claimed to have seen one in many years but the belief still stood that these beings were protectors from a great evil that would ultimately destroy these lands.

Again, Jon was very sceptical about the whole situation but kept his mouth closed out of respect.

It got even more interesting when they finished their lunch and made their way into Gerion's room.

"So, let's see it then." Jon said.

"Oh, I didn't know you swung that way Jonathan." Gerion replied, trying and failing not to grin like a loon.

"Not that you prick" Jon said as he rolled his eyes, "You know...your sword." He finshed.

"I'm getting mixed signals here Jonathan." Gerion replied with a look of confusion.

"BRIGHTROAR! Let me see Brightroar you arse." Jon huffed, "And stop calling me Jonathan."

"Oooooh, Brightroar...now it all makes sense." Gerion replied like he had no idea what was being talked about.

"You're not funny, now get it out will you." Jon said.

"Of course, Jonathan, I'll get anything out for y....."

"No, you're fine, just Brightroar will do you insufferable cunt." Jon answered, the teasing had run its course and he just wanted to see the goddamn sword.

With a wink and a nod, Gerion walked across the room to his bed and reached underneath it, he pulled a long wooden box out and lifted it onto his bed. Jon approached as Gerion unlatched the lock on the box and lifted the lid off to unveil two long items wrapped in a deep red material.

Gerion felt around the end of one of the items and lifted it out of the box.

As it was unwrapped from its cloth Jon noticed the black leather of its scabbard and the golden finishing's that accented it 'Typical Lannister'. With it fully uncovered, Gerion grabbed the hilt and unsheathed it, the sound echoing around the room. He laid the sword down on the bed and Jon could fully take in the beauty of it.

An obvious greatsword due to its length, Brightroar was Lannister through and through. Patterned gold adorned all around the hilt and surrounded what looked to be a square cut topaz in the centre. The blade held the same smoky ripples in its valyrian steel that House Stark's ancestral sword featured and it was finished off with a solid gold lion's head for a pommel, it was a majestic looking blade.

"So...what do you think?" Gerion asked as he broke Jon out of his thoughts.

"It's magnificent." Jon answered.

"A true beauty aye, a lot of work to recover but in the end, it was worth it." Gerion replied.

"Where on earth did you find it?" Jon asked.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time but to put it simply, I stole it." Gerion answered with a grin. Jon just raised his eyebrow.

Gerion explained, "Don't look at me like that, at the end of the day, this sword belongs to House Lannister so in a sense I wasn't stealing it but reclaiming what is rightfully ours."

"Bit of a grey area but I can see where you're coming from." Jon replied as he remembered the boat he 'reclaimed' to make this journey here.

"A Lannister always pays their debts...unless they find a loophole." Gerion finished.

Jon just rolled his eyes as he looked back at the sword. When he caught sight of the box that laid at the other end of the bed, he remembered that there were two items in it.

Jon nodded towards it and asked, "What else is in that box Gerion?"

A sly grin morphed on Gerion's face.

"Why that young Jonathan is the other thing I mentioned about to you earlier." He answered.

Gerion picked up the other cloaked item, this one was a bit shorter than Brightroar and seemed to have a plain black leather scabbard as he unveiled it. Jon's eyes went wide when he pulled the rest of the cloth off and revealed the hilt and pommel to him.

A hand-and-a-half longsword with a simple black leather handle on the hilt was not the thing that shocked Jon, it was the twin dragon heads on the hilt and the giant pear-shaped ruby for a pommel, this was Blackfyre, House Targaryen's ancestral sword that was believed to have been lost somewhere in Essos, his beliefs were confirmed when Gerion unsheathed the sword and presented him with the same smoky ripples as Brightroar.

"And where in the fuck did you find this?" Jon asked as he still couldn't believe what he was looking at. "This is Blackfyre isn't it? I'm not seeing things?"

Gerion nodded "You are correct in your assumptions young Jonathan, this here is indeed the lost sword of the Targaryen's. This one was even more of a bitch to get hold of but I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"You didn't reclaim this one as well did you?" Jon chuckled as he looked back down at Blackfyre, it was simply beautiful.

Gerion's chuckle sounded nervous to Jon's ears as he replied, "Ha, about that. Yeah, I did steal THIS one. It's a funny story actually, you see..."

"I heard rumours that the Golden Company were in possession of it or someone in their ranks was at least, don't tell me you stole from the Golden Company." Jon interrupted as he looked a Gerion.

"Might have." Gerion mumbled and shrugged his shoulders.

Jon raised an eyebrow at that, "Do they know it was you who specifically took it?"

"Well they knew it was me who took it but they didn't know who I actually was soooo, no?"

Jon just shook his head and placed the swords back in the box.

"Did they chase you down?" Jon asked.

Gerion nodded, "They did but I managed to shake them, the lion is never the one to be hunted."

Jon just rolled his eyes, he found himself doing that a lot when talking to him, "You're not a lion, you're a person, your house's coat of arms just happens to have a lion on it." Jon explained further, "You come into the world and leave it the same as anybody else, it's what you do in between your birth and your death that determines who you really are."

Gerion smiled at him and not the cocky smile he's normally got plastered on but a smile that looked almost proud, "Well said, you'll fit in just right around here. If it's worth anything to you I agree, the name doesn't make the man but it's their actions that speak greater volumes of a person's character."

Gerion continued, "That reminds me, I didn't catch your last name when we met."

"That's because I never told you" Jon replied. "It's Snow by the way." He answered.

"Jon Snow...Jon Snow" Gerion said to himself, "the only Jon Snow I'd ever heard of is Ned Stark's son." Gerion mused. He looked at Jon like he was trying to piece a puzzle together.

Jon curtsied to him, "The one and only." He said with a grin.

Gerion just smiled and shook his head as he slid the box back under his bed.

"I think you and me are gonna get on just fin...what's that smell?" Gerion asked as he sniffed and pulled a face.

"Sorry, whatever that fish was that we had for lunch is playing a number on my stomach." Jon answered as he laughed and left the room.

"You dirty bastard!" Gerion shouted as he heard Jon laugh even louder.

King Rhaegar

The King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men sat at his polished ebony desk as he read through the ravens of the day. More marriage offers for his children more than anything, they would all receive the same response as they have before 'The boys are already betrothed and the girls will not be forced into an arranged marriage.'

The Crown Prince, Aegon Targaryen is a boy of 16 years, short cropped silver-blonde hair, violet almost blue eyes, leanly built and almost the same height as his father. Loved by the masses and adored by girls and women alike due to his valyrian features, Egg, as he was more commonly known to family and friends, was shaping up to be an ideal successor of the Crown, taught the ins and outs of politics and history of all the known kingdoms, perfect courtly etiquette when conversing and dealing with Lords and Ladies and humility towards the less fortunate. He would be a fine King.

Aegon had been betrothed at the young age of 12 to Lady Margaery of House Tyrell and would be wedding her later this year.

His daughter, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen is a young woman of 18 years, long dark brown almost black hair similar to her dornish relatives, deep indigo eyes and the same height as her mother. She had the dornish look but also hints of the fair valyrian features, she was beautiful. Rhae, as she was more commonly known to family and friends, was the perfect mix between dornish wit and Targaryen charm and was often seen around the Red Keep with her cousins, The Sand Snakes, getting into, what they perceived to be, innocent trouble.

Rhaenys was not currently betrothed but didn't lack suitors, most notably Willas Tyrell, who was often spotted conversing with the Princess when he came to visit his brother Loras, sister Margaery and grandmother Lady Olenna.

His brother, Viserys Targaryen is a man of 22, long silver hair just like his own, pale lilac eyes with hard lines in his face and a height similar to his own. Bitter and cruel due to him believing that HE should be sat on the throne because of their mad father making him heir before he died, Rhaegar has had to keep an eye on him along with his mother, the Dowager Queen Rhaella Targaryen.

Viserys is currently married to Princess Arianne Martell, resides in Sunspear where his wife lives and loathes the fact that he's referred to as 'consort'.

His sister, Princess Daenerys Targaryen is a girl of 14, long silver hair just like his, Viserys' and their mother, violet eyes with a slender build and height, she is what many people claim as having the classic valyrian looks. Dany, as she was more commonly known to family and friends, is a quiet but confident young woman, enjoys the fine arts and is a bit of a bookworm. She spends a lot of time with the common people, often visiting the orphanage in King's Landing and has expressed a desire to visit Essos and the Free Cities when she is older.

Daenerys is not betrothed at the moment stating that if and when she marries is completely up to her with her mother fully backing her up on her wishes. She has a long list of suitors who are hoping to change her mind however, most notably Prince Quentyn of House Martell, Lord Joffery of House Baratheon and even Aurane Waters, a bastard of House Velaryon.

Rhaegar thought on about his family members and wished he could have added 2 or more names to that list, more specifically, his 2 lost wolves. He missed her so much, they both did Elia and him, even Arthur missed her despite the fact she did nothing but take the piss with him, Rhaegar chuckled at the memory.

They both regretted not seeing or being able to say goodbye to their daughter, him and Elia every year would visit the newly reconstructed Summerhall where her ashes lay to pay their respects. She'd be 15 now, Lyarra, a name they both agreed on, named after Lyanna's mother.

He sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

His brother in all but name knocked on his door and popped his head through.

"You have a visitor your grace, Lady Melisandre begs an audience with you." Arthur announced.

Rhaegar sighed 'Not this again', his interest in prophecies and visions died a long time ago.

"Send her in and let's get this over with." He replied. Arthur nodded with an amused grin on his face.

The woman in question swept into his solar with the grace of a royal and the mystique of a shadow, she bowed low and greeted him.

"Your grace, I thank you for granting me an audience." Lady Melisandre said.

"Not at all, what can I help you with Lady Melisandre?" Rhaegar replied.

"Dark times your grace, the visions in the flames I ha...."

"Oh, not this again, I told you in the main hall that I don't believe in any of this anymore. I allowed you residency when you claimed that this was a diplomatic visit and that you were a representative of the triarchs of Volantis but I'm starting to realise that might not be true at all." Rhaegar said, he could see Arthur slowly pulling Dawn out of its scabbard.

"I will relay my information and leave the city straight away, this has to be known by more than just me." Lady Melisandre explained.

Rhaegar held out a hand to halt Arthur's actions and replied to the woman "Fine, explain these visions and then leave. Don't expect me to take whatever you say seriously though."

"As you wish your grace." She answered as she bowed her head in reverence.

"A war is brewing between black and white, good and evil, the living and the dead. I don't know where and I don't know when but it is coming." The lady explained.

She continued, "For years I have seen these visions, I have asked the Lord of Light for an answer, time and time again I received no reply but only recently did he answer."

"He gave me a vision, a vision of ice and fire clashing and creating a light, a white light. A pool of silver, crimson eyes and a winged wolf. A white fire cleansing the enemy. A warrior of salvation, a warrior of death, a warrior to bring the dawn."

Rhaegar just sat there stone-faced as Lady Melisandre bowed and left the room, he looked up to Arthur who just shrugged his shoulders as he exited after the woman to return to his post.

He went back over what she had said, a war is not what anybody wanted right now, the realm was flourishing and everything was calm. A warrior of salvation, a warrior of death? Gods be good what was all that about.

It didn't matter though, he'd left this type of thinking behind, prophecies and visions were the devils work and he refused to believe any of it anymore.

As much as he wanted to forget everything she had said, one word did stick out to him...

Wolf.