Chapter Thirty Eight: Branching Out

The Banquet Tower was large enough to feast the entirety of Moat Cailin's occupants. The servants and smallfolk who resided in the moat ate on the first three floors. The common soldiers and their families were allotted the next four floors. The sergeants of the Legion without Banners and their families were given the next two floors. Lord Gregor Clegane, his family, his household, his lieutenants, and any honored guests of the moat always feasted in the Great Hall on the top floor.

For as long as he had been in the North, Jasper Baratheon had eaten nearly every meal in the Great Hall. At any normal meal, he would be seated at the dais with Lord Gregor, Lady Dacey, their children, Sylas Vikary, Erryk Ruttiger, Rodrik Cassel, and Maester Kennick. Jon Snow, Samwell Tarly, Beth Cassel, Brynden Tully, Willas Tyrell, Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, the Sand Snakes, Maron Greyjoy, Lyn Corbray, Lothor Brune, his uncle Renly Baratheon, his great uncle Gerion Lannister, his second cousin Joy Hill, Smalljon Umber, Tormund Giantsbane, and Tormund's children (if they bothered to show up) would be seated at a large circular table below the dais.

Ser Arys Oakheart was always present at each meal. But he never sat at the dais or the table. Along with a rotating number of Clegane guards, he always stood by the wall. Specifically, he stood at the wall directly behind Jasper's seat. For as long as the prince sat, the white knight never moved from his post. Jasper had never seen him eat, but he knew Ser Arys must have had his own meals on a lower floor in the Banquet Tower when he was off-duty.

Allard Seaworth would typically be there, as well. But Allard was currently busy across the Narrow Sea, supervising the Mad King's children with ninety-nine of his countrymen. Until he returned, Uncle Renly would be speaking for the Stormlands on Lord Gregor's secret council. If only he took the affairs of the Legion as seriously as Allard. In many areas, Allard was a much better representative, though Renly was an adequate substitute.

There were around a score additional chairs at the dais and the table that were usually empty. They were designated for the moat's highborn visitors.

Seven of those chairs were occupied at present. Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell sat beside each other near the head of the table. Olenna Tyrell was seated beside her eldest grandson Willas. At Lady Margaery's insistence, her handmaidens Mira Forrester and Sera Durwell had been seated close to her. Lastly, Jasper's uncle Tyrion Lannister and his aunt Ellyn Lannister were afforded two seats on the right side of the dais.

Lady Margaery Tyrell, her grandmother, and her handmaidens were invited to sup with the Cleganes

As the future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Robb had been offered a spot on the dais. He had politely refused, claiming he would prefer to sit beside the woman who would very likely be the future Lady of Winterfell.

As the Crown Prince of Westeros, Jasper was required – forced, more like – to sit on the dais. It would have been unseemly for the heir to the Iron Throne to be seated lower than a noble lord, even if it was in said lord's house. And if said lord has loyally served his liege for the past sixteen years.

So Jasper was always given a seat on the dais. Nevertheless, he would have preferred to have sat at the table. Nearly all his closest friends were at the table. The only one who shared a part of the dais was Rickard Clegane, and Rickard was always on the other end of the dais.

Jasper knew he could have simply requested to be seated closer to Rickard, or better yet, to have Jon and Samwell sit beside him on the dais. But he did not wish to appear displeased with Lord Gregor's accommodations. Nor did he desire to force the Mountain to give out special favors. As such, he chose to stay quiet and not utter a single word of complaint about the seating arrangements.

The seating arrangements were not all bad, in truth. While Jasper was unable to have private conversations with his friends, at least he could have friendly conversations with them from across the room. Oftentimes, these conversations ended up including some of the other people in the Great Hall.

They had one such conversation that night.

During the main course, Willas Tyrell looked up from his place on the table and turned to the right end of the dais, where Tyrion Lannister sat. He called out "So, my lord, about that drink…"

The blond dwarf focused on his attention on the heir to Highgarden. Raising an eyebrow, he queried "What drink?"

"When you arrived earlier today, I asked you why you and Lady Ellyn are in the North," Willas recalled, "You said you would tell me over a cup of wine."

He then picked up his goblet of Arbor gold, held it in the air, and commented "It happens I have a cup now. So do you, as a matter of fact."

When does he not? Despite his stature, Tyrion Lannister had a rather great thirst for drink. It was almost as great as his thirst for knowledge. That is quite advantageous for him. Unlike most drinkers, he knows when to stop drinking. No matter how much alcohol he consumed, Uncle Tyrion never became full-out inebriated. As far as I know, anyway.

"If I might ask, why are you so curious to know of our reason for being in the North?" Aunt Ellyn inquired.

"I am simply curious for curiosity's sake," Willas Tyrell replied. He gazed around the table and muttered "No one ever comes here without reason, even if their reason is something as basic as wanting to see the Legion without Banners in all its glory."

Oddly enough, a great many people have come to Moat Cailin for that exact reason and no other.

"Meaning no disrespect, but that is not what brought us here," Tyrion Lannister bluntly stated.

Ellyn Lannister nodded in agreement and observed "Besides, with word of the Others' return circulating the Seven Kingdoms, I doubt any one would choose to travel this far north just to sightsee."

"Just so, my lady," Samwell Tarly declared from the table below, "Ever since the Night's Watch alerted us of the wight ambush in the haunted forest, many of the moat's residents have decided to relocate to the south. Even before we received that warning, a fair number of them went south in preparation of the next winter. Every day, a few more people leave or consider leaving."

"This close to the end of summer, they cannot be faulted," Oberyn Martell professed.

"Be that as it may, the majority of the Legionnaires are determined to stay here and see the next winter through," Brynden Tully pointed out.

"That is fortunate," Olenna Tyrell remarked, "After the Night's Watch, you are Westeros' secondary line of defense against the White Walkers."

"What you say is true, my lady," Dacey Mormont perceived, "But we are praying daily that the Others do not overcome the Watch. The Night's King and his army will not encounter another formidable adversary until they reach Moat Cailin, and the Legion is only in a position to defend the Neck and everything south of it."

"She is quite correct," Uncle Tyrion agreed, "If the Wall falls, the North will, as well."

"Yet the possibility of that did not discourage you from visiting it, Uncle," Jasper Baratheon noted.

At that statement, most of the heads in the room turned in the prince's direction. A few of them had been engrossed in their supper and had not even been listening to the dialogue. Why is it I'm the only one who gains the notice of a whole room when he speaks? In actuality, he already knew why. It was not because Jasper always had something interesting to say. It was because one day, his word would be regarded as law.

Jasper was used to people dropping everything and giving him their full attention whenever he opened his mouth. Even so, he was not fond of it. Some things are not meant to be heard by all.

"No, dear nephew, it did not," Tyrion said in affirmation, gazing at Jasper from further down the dais.

"Then you're not concerned that the Wall will collapse?" Jasper assumed, leaning forward a bit.

"Unless a sudden heat wave passes over this land, I have no such worries," Uncle Tyrion proclaimed, "It would require the flaming breath of a thousand dragons to melt that structure."

"Tormund's breath might accomplish the same thing," Smalljon Umber japed.

Several people in the room promptly burst into laughter, including Tormund Giantsbane himself. Through his loud guffawing, the wildling uttered cheekily "I'll have you know I clean my teeth at least once every turn of the moon, Smalljon. That's more often than when you bring a woman into your bed."

The heir to Last Hearth scowled, but his grimace vanished almost as quickly as the next round of laughter began. He chuckled alongside the others.

Although both men were making jokes at the other's expense, Jasper knew it was all in good fun. In fact, ever since Tormund Giantsbane was admitted to the Seven Kingdoms, an unlikely friendship had developed between him and Smalljon Umber.

Since Last Hearth was closer to the Wall than any other holdfast in Westeros, it had historically been one of the most frequent targets of wildling raiders. Because of that, the Umbers had built up a hatred of the Free Folk greater than most other houses.

Nevertheless, Smalljon Umber and Tormund Giantsbane had come to respect and appreciate each other's company. Jasper had seen them drink together, spar together, and pray together. Whenever they were out on assignment, each challenged the other to succeed in his task first. They effectively made their goals a type of friendly competition whilst continuing to do their duties.

Interestingly, they were both in pursuit of the same woman, one Brienne of House Tarth, only child and heiress to Lord Selwyn of Evenfall Hall.

Lady Brienne had come to Moat Cailin about two years ago, at around the same time as Jasper. She had enlisted in the Legion without Banners alongside his uncle Renly. Interestingly, Brienne Tarth could often be found in the same place as Renly Baratheon. Jasper wondered why that was. It could not be because she was attracted to him. She never made anything resembling a romantic gesture towards him. And it certainly could not have been because he was attracted to her. Given the way Renly had interacted with Loras Tyrell ever since the Knight of Flowers joined the Legion, Jasper could tell his uncle's interest was not in women.

Brienne Tarth was an enigma in more ways than one. She was among the tallest women Jasper had ever seen. She was not the absolute tallest; that honor belonged to Lady Dacey Mormont, who stood at slightly over seven feet.

Lady Brienne may be the tallest woman from outside the North. Jasper could not say she was with total certainty. Like Brienne, his Aunt Ellyn was much closer to seven feet than six. At a glance, the two of them were approximately the same height. I'd need them to stand back-to-back to render a judgement on who's the taller.

Although Brienne had a similar build to Dacey Mormont and Ellyn Clegane, her façade was much different from theirs. Lady Dacey and Lady Ellyn were undeniably handsome women, but no one could say the same of Lady Brienne. She was plain, dull, and lacking in woman curves. Some of the less tactful occupants of the moat had mockingly daubed her "Brienne the Beauty."

Despite her unappealing appearance, Brienne Tarth was a proficient warrior. She had gotten revenge on all those who scorned her by roughly besting them in the training yard. She had also beaten Ser Loras Tyrell, Lothor Brune, Maron Greyjoy, and many other renowned swordsmen.

Once, she even managed to win a one-on-one bout against Dacey Mormont. Then again, Lady Dacey had given birth to her fifth child just a fortnight beforehand.

Her combat prowess was what primarily drew Smalljon Umber and Tormund Giantsbane to Brienne Tarth. The two of them had a friendly rivalry going on to see which of them could woo her first. They had tried to charm her through various means, such as flattery, flirting, chatting, and even dueling.

Thus far, Brienne had not yet returned either man's affections, or even acknowledged them. Be that as it may, both were genuinely interested in winning her favor. As the heir to his house, Smalljon needed a wife who was tough, sturdy, and strong enough to give him some heirs of his own. Tormund already had four sons and a daughter, but a match between him and Brienne would go a long way to improving relations between the Free Folk and the Stormlands.

Let's just hope that if Lady Brienne does pick one of them, the other will accept her decision. Last time two men fought over a woman, my father ended up on the Iron Throne.

"If the Wall ever does fall, hopefully it will not be until after we get back," Ellyn Clegane wittily murmured.

That remark caught Jasper's interest, along with the interest of everyone else there.

"What do you mean by that, my lady?" Oberyn Martell enquired.

"I am finally providing an answer to Willas' question," Lady Ellyn disclosed, leaning back in her chair, "The main reason Tyrion and I are in the North… is to pay homage to its greatest landmark."

Several people in the Great Hall seemed stunned by that revelation. Jasper was not one of them. Somehow, I'm not surprised. I might have guessed that that's why they're here. Of all the members of his mother's family, his uncle Tyrion was easily the most adventurous. While Ellyn Clegane was not as outgoing as her husband, she was just as spirited and lively. And every bit as intelligent and cunning.

"You plan to see the Wall, Ellie?" Lord Gregor Clegane asked his sister rhetorically.

"We're going to see the Wall, Greg," Lady Ellyn corrected her brother, smiling at him, "We're greatly looking forward to it, I might add."

"Indeed, my lady," Ser Rodrik Cassel commented, "Now may not be the best to visit the Wall, though."

"Now is the perfect time to visit it, good ser," Tyrion disputed, "With the threat of the Long Night looming so close, we'll never have a better opportunity to see the Wall than the present."

Fair argument, I suppose. Jasper folded his arms and presumed "So that's your purpose for coming North, Uncle? To get a glimpse of the Wall whilst it's available?"

"Not our only purpose," Ellyn pronounced, "We have other affairs to attend to, both before and after we visit the Wall."

"What sort of affairs?" Dacey Mormont inquired.

"Family now; business later," Tyrion responded, "We will accomplish both here at Moat Cailin."

The family objective is obvious. Aunt Ellyn is here to visit her brother and his family. But the business objective…

"What do you mean by business?" Gerion Lannister enquired.

Tyrion gave a smile and professed "Before very long, you will not be the only Lannister in the Legion without Banners, Uncle."

That remark intrigued Jasper. It also intrigued the Mountain. Lord Gregor assumed "You wish to enlist?"

"Oh, yes," Tyrion confirmed with a smirk, "Again, with the threat of the Long Night just around the corner, the world will need people of wit and intellect. Your sister and I easily qualify as such. We will be of far greater use here at Moat Cailin than we would at Casterly Rock."

"That is true," Gregor contended, returning the smirk, "Truthfully, I've been hoping you would come here to enlist for a while now."

"Actually, Ellyn and I first considered joining the Legion a long time ago," Tyrion apprised him, "The only thing stopping us was my father."

Can't say I'm surprised. Jasper was quite aware that his grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, despised his uncle Tyrion just as much as his mother did. Both of them blamed him for the death of Jasper's grandmother, Lady Joanna Lannister. I've never seen Grandfather smile. Naturally, he wouldn't care less about other people's happiness, least of all Uncle Tyrion's.

"Do not take this the wrong way, Uncle," Jasper candidly remarked, "But I'd have thought Grandfather Tywin would have been pleased to see you leave the Rock."

"Oh, he was, Jasper," Tyrion drily muttered, "But for whatever reason, he was quite reluctant to let me leave with my own family."

By his tone of voice, he must know full well what "whatever reason" actually was.

"He's right," Ellyn pronounced, "It was rather difficult to convince Lord Tywin to permit me to leave the Rock. It was even harder to convince him to allow us to take Duncan along."

Gerion Lannister rolled his eyes and mumbled "Is he still laboring under the misapprehension that you're a hostage of the Rock?"

"Apparently, he is," Ellyn perceived, "But he's finally realized that at times, a hound is just as unpredictable and difficult to control as a lion. Apart from that, I was not about to leave the Rock without my son."

"Neither was I," Tyrion coincided, "Duncan may have been safer in the south, but at least we would be assured of his safety by bringing him with us. While my father is more invested in legacy than family, that does not imply the rest of us should be, as well."

Sometimes I wonder if Uncle Tyrion really is his father's son.

Rickard Clegane grinned lightly and genially declared "Whatever the case, whenever you and Aunt Ellyn get back from the Wall, both of you will be most welcome here, Uncle Tyrion."

It was quaint to hear Rickard call Tyrion "Uncle," too. Partly because it was totally appropriate for him to do so. On that note, it was even more appropriate for him to address Lady Ellyn as "Aunt" than it was for Jasper to.

After all, Rickard's father was the brother to Ellyn Clegane, and Jasper's mother was the sister to Tyrion Lannister. That meant the heir to the Iron Throne and the heir to Moat Cailin were first cousins once-removed. Even stranger than that was the fact that Lord Gregor Clegane and King Robert Baratheon were goodbrothers twice-removed.

Furthermore, both men were uncles to Duncan Lannister, who would quite possibly be the future Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.

Another generation or two, and the entire damn population of Westeros might be related to each other in some way.

Tyrion and Ellyn seemed pleased by Rickard's declaration. The dwarf told his wife's nephew in a candid tone "I've no doubt of that, my boy."

Rickard gave a light nod of his head and returned to his food.

A moment later, Lady Mira Forrester politely called out "If you happen to pass through the wolfswood on your way to the Wall, please give my regards to my family, my lord."

"We plan to stick to the kingsroad for most of our journey, so I cannot guarantee we will go anywhere near the wolfswood," Tyrion thought aloud, "Of course, I have no issue without deviating from preset plans. It is something I am oft one to do."

"Apart from that, House Forrester has been a reliable source of ironwood to the crown and the Westerlands," Lady Ellyn professed, "It would not hurt to tell them in person that we appreciate their services."

Uncle Tyrion nodded in agreement. He turned back to Lady Margaery's handmaiden and told her "I will not make any promises, Lady Mira. Nonetheless, if we have the time, we will call upon your lord father at Ironrath."

Mira Forrester smiled sweetly and stated "For that, I thank you, my lord. I haven't seen him or any other member of my family in over a year. Other than the occasional letter, I have had almost no correspondence with them. It would mean very much to me if someone told them in person that I am thinking of them. And that I am well."

I can relate. If she didn't dread the cold so much, Mother would probably have paid me a visit long ago.

Mira Forrester was seated to Margaery Tyrell's left. Robb was on Margaery's right. He turned to look past his intended and focused on her handmaiden. He said inquisitively "Tell me, Mira; when did you last receive a letter from your family?"

The Northern girl sat thinking for a few seconds, and then she replied with "About a fortnight before we departed from Highgarden."

That must have been six weeks past.

Robb gave a smirk and commented "Then it appears you need to be brought up to date on certain current events."

Mira looked perplexed. "How so, my lord?"

"Exactly three weeks ago, Winterfell received a raven from Ironrath," Robb informed her, "As you likely know already, your lord father organized a betrothal between your brother Rodrik and Lady Elaena of House Glenmore. He sent my lord father that raven to ask for his consent to hold the wedding in the near future."

Mira leaned a little closer and queried "How did Lord Eddard respond?"

Robb smiled again and revealed "He gave Lord Gregor his blessing, along with his congratulations. A date has not yet been set, but I can tell you with certainty that sometime within the next two turns of the moon, Rodrik and Elaena will be wed in Ironrath's godswood."

Mira beamed at that news. She seems downright ecstatic. "Thank you for telling me this, my lord."

"It is my pleasure, my lady," the heir to Winterfell asserted.

Like everyone else in the Great Hall, Margaery Tyrell had spent the last minute sitting in silence and observing the exchange of dialogue between her betrothed and her handmaiden. When they were finished talking, Margaery turned to the latter and enquired "Do you think you will attend your brother's nuptials, Mira?"

"Only by your leave, my lady," Mira Forrester responded almost involuntarily, "My duty to you comes first."

Margaery and her grandmother were pleased by the Northern girl's response. The young rose of Highgarden took a moment to wipe her mouth, and then she muttered "I would be glad to give you leave. More than that; I might accompany you."

Mira was a little surprised by that proposal. "May I ask why?"

"My family has connections with House Glenmore," Margaery reminded her, "Lord and Lady Glenmore will almost certainly be at their daughter's wedding, so that would be a fine opportunity for me to pay my respects to them. Additionally, I am curious to see how a Northern wedding is conducted. I would like to witness one before my own takes place."

"So would I," Sera Durwell remarked. Samwell had told Jasper how Lady Margaery's other handmaiden had had a fever when she arrived at the moat. She looks rather well for someone who was sick just a few hours ago. This was the first time she had opened her mouth to speak, though. She asked no one in particular "How vast is the difference between how weddings are done in the North and how they are done in the rest of Westeros?"

"The difference is merely a change of setting," Jon Snow interjected, "While followers of the New Gods prefer to have their weddings indoors, the followers of the Old Gods proudly hold theirs out in the open. That, my lady, is the quintessential difference."

"And how many weddings have you attended, Snow?" Robb Stark cockily asked his cousin.

"Just as many as you, Stark," Jon Snow retorted. Jasper was just close enough that he could hear Jon add under his breath "And definitely more beddings."

Jasper scoffed. Ygritte says he knows nothing. What does she know?

"It looks as though you will not need us to give your family your regards after all, Lady Mira," Aunt Ellyn noted.

"I suppose not, Lady Ellyn," Mira Forrester conceded, "By Lady Margaery's good grace, I will be able to do so myself."

Margaery Tyrell flushed a bit at her handmaiden's praise. Robb seemed mildly amused by her reaction. He leaned over and told her "If you do decide to go to Rodrik Forrester's wedding, my lady, I could join you."

"I would be delighted, my lord," Margaery proclaimed, "It would not inconvenience you?"

"Well, my friend Daryn Hornwood will be joined with Alys Karstark of Karhold in about four weeks," Robb thought aloud, "I was thinking of riding out to Hornwood and standing witness to the ceremony. The date of their wedding may conflict with the one for Rodrik and Elaena's, but that is not very probable. Other than that, I have nothing great scheduled for the next few months."

"Alright then," Margaery conceded, grinning at the heir to Winterfell once more.

As Robb grinned back, Oberyn Martell started to chuckle. His soft laughter gained a number of odd looks, which he paid no mind to. After a minute of chuckles, the Red Viper lounged in his chair and folded his arms. He uttered in amusement "Isn't this remarkable? Everyone is getting married these days."

That would appear to be the case. At least in the North.

"Oh, not everyone, my prince," Olenna Tyrell countered. She gradually turned to face the young man seated beside her, and she murmured "I have yet to see you drape our house cloak around a lady's shoulders, Willas."

Willas blushes much like his sister, Jasper noted the Reachman's reaction to his grandmother's remark. The prince wondered what reason the older man had for going red in the face. Most likely, either he did not enjoy being the center of attention, or he was not eager to converse on this particular topic.

After the pinkish tint faded from Willas Tyrell's cheeks, he casually gazed over at the far wall. He mumbled bluntly "I am… working towards that goal, Grandmother."

"Is that so?" Lady Olenna queried, seeming unconvinced, "Just what progress have you made in accomplishing it?"

"Truthfully… very little," the heir to Highgarden admitted, "But it is not out of disinterest or laziness that I have not looked for one."

"Then why have you not looked?" the Queen of Thorns almost demanded.

"Because…" Willas tentatively began. Before he said another word, he glimpsed over at Lord Gregor Clegane. Jasper noticed the Mountain gave the Reachman a small nod. What could that mean?

He got his answer a moment later, when Willas Tyrell let out a sigh and disclosed "Lord Gregor believes he has found the most ideal woman for me. He requested that I not consider any other matches until I met her, and I agreed not to."

Lady Olenna was evidently intrigued. She enquired "Who might this 'perfect bride' be?"

Willas hesitated before straightforwardly replying with "I… do not know."

His grandmother scowled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"It is a complicated matter, Lady Olenna," Gregor Clegane cut in for his comrade, "The woman I have in mind for your grandmother would suit him well, but I have not yet secured her hand for him. Until I do, it would be best if the match was kept anonymous. Because in the event that I am unsuccessful, the outcome could be disastrous. But only if the match had been made public beforehand."

There is logic in those words. A firm refusal of a marriage contract with the heir of a Great House could be seen as an insult, unless the refuser's identity was not common knowledge.

Lady Olenna appeared to be having a similar thought, as she eased down a bit. Although she could see the sense in the Mountain's argument, she still seemed somewhat skeptical about this matter. She asked her eldest grandson "How long ago did you and Lord Gregor first discuss this match?"

"The day we met," Willas told her sincerely.

Olenna was flabbergasted, as well as a little shocked. "You entrusted a man you just met with the future of your house?"

"No, I entrusted a man with a sounder reputation than most," Willas firmly debated, "Even ten years later, I trust Lord Gregor's judgment as much as I ever did. I would also remind you, Grandmother, that it was he who first suggested Robb and Margaery's contract."

From the look of things, that one will turn out quite well.

"I will not deny him that," the Queen of Thorns contended, "Even so, I do not appreciate being kept in the dark on anything that directly concerns House Tyrell. I would very much like to know this 'mystery woman.'"

"If it gives you any comfort, Lady Olenna, I intend for Willas to meet her before summer ends," Gregor Clegane professed, "I am simply waiting for the most opportune time. If you are willing to stay in the North until then, I can arrange for you to meet her, too."

Olenna Tyrell thought on that for a minute, and then she nodded and declared "That is acceptable."

"Very good," Lord Gregor commented, glad that he had appeased the Queen of Thorns, "I can all but assure you that you will approve of her."

"I hope I shall, my lord," Olenna Tyrell murmured. A few seconds later, she added in "For your sake."

Jasper was taken aback by those last three words. From the way they were delivered, there was an ominous undertone to them. If he did not know better, he would have supposed that Lady Olenna was trying to be menacing.

He appeared to be the only one in the Great Hall who had that thought, as no one else had stiffened with shock or begun to stare at Olenna Tyrell dumbfoundedly. Even the Mountain was entirely indifferent. Does he realize what Lady Olenna just insinuated?

In actuality, Jasper was not wholly certain what Olenna Tyrell had meant by those three words. If her intention was to be hostile, he would not let that go unanswered. But if she had meant that statement only as a harmless comment, he did not wish to wrongly accuse her in public, either.

Fortunately, he had the means to approach this issue tactfully and subtly.

Prince Jasper Baratheon slowly rose to his feet, gazed down at the heir to Highgarden, and asked him "Willas, ¿su abuela amenazó a lord Gregor?" (Willas, did your grandmother just threaten Lord Gregor?)

Once more, he became the center of attention. This time, he paid no mind to all the eyes on him. At this moment, the only eyes that interested him were the pair that belonged to Willas Tyrell.

Initially, the Reachman seemed surprised by that question. Then he smirked, lightly shook his head, and proclaimed "Oh no. Ella simplemente quería que él supiera que estaría de acuerdo con su arreglo, pero ella estará bastante disgustada si no cumple." (Oh, no. She simply wanted him to know that she will agree to his arrangement, but she will be quite displeased if he fails to deliver.)

Jasper raised an eyebrow and inquired "¿Está seguro de eso?" (Are you certain of that?)

Willas nodded his head and muttered "Mi abuela sólo amenaza a sus enemigos, y créeme; Ella no considera que lord Gregor era su enemigo." (My grandmother only threatens her enemies, and believe me; she does not regard Lord Gregor was her enemy.)

At that, Jasper abruptly felt his skepticism diminish. It was quickly replaced by the feeling of awkwardness. Perhaps I should have considered that first.

Although only members of the Legion without Banners could speak and understand Spanish, nearly half the people in that room were Legionnaires. As such, half of them had heard Jasper's cynical, premature assumption. In front of all those people, he had drawn unwanted attention to himself and Lady Olenna.

Samwell Tarly must have noticed his discomfort. Just then, he gazed up at the dais and told his friend assuredly "Relájate, Jasper. No eres el primer hombre en interpretar erróneamente el significado de Lady Olenna." (Relax, Jasper. You are not the first man to misinterpret Lady Olenna's meaning.)

Willas Tyrell murmured in agreement "Eso realmente tiende a suceder muy a menudo." (That actually tends to happen quite often.)

Jon Snow said sarcastically "¿Por qué no me sorprende?" (Why does that not surprise me?)

Jasper Baratheon then turned back to Willas Tyrell and told him "En cualquier caso, pido disculpas por este malentendido. Es sólo ... bueno, perdóname por decirlo, Willas, pero su abuela es una mujer muy espinosa." (In any case, I apologize for this misunderstanding. It's just… well, forgive me for saying so, Willas, but your grandmother is a very prickly woman.)

The heir to Highgarden snickered a bit and jokingly pronounced "Ahora ya sabes por qué la llaman 'La Reina de las Espinas.'" (Now you know why they call her 'The Queen of Thorns.')

Jasper, Willas, Jon, Samwell, and several of the Legionnaires shared a short round of laughter in response to that witticism. When the laughter subsided, Jasper swiftly sat back down in his chair.

It was then that he saw that Olenna Tyrell was looking right at him.

"Did something amuse you, Your Grace?" she stated inquisitively.

"I suppose so, my lady," Jasper Baratheon alleged, "But that laughter was not at your expense, I assure you."

"I never suggested it was," Lady Olenna refuted. Jasper noticed she was gazing at him with prying eyes, as though she was scrutinizing him. It is almost as though she just now realized I was here.

"Is everything alright, Lady Olenna?" Jasper enquired in concern.

"Everything is fine, my prince," the Queen of Thorns insisted, easing back in her chair, "But while we are on the subject of unions, I am curious to know; who will the next queen of Westeros be?"

Jasper found himself more than a little bewildered. Well, that topic came out of nowhere. Despite the suddenness of that question, he merely shrugged and answered with "If I knew, I would tell you, my lady. Alas, I have not the slightest idea. In all honestly, I have not given the matter very much thought."

"At your age, that is to be expected," Olenna Tyrell murmured, "You are young. But no one is young for long. Sooner or later, we all must make choices. I would encourage you to choose wisely."

"You needn't worry on that, my lady," Jasper proclaimed, "Whenever I start searching for a bride, I will not pick hastily or imprudently."

"I am not simply referring to your future queen," Lady Olenna clarified, "I wish to advise you to be mindful of all your decisions. The ability to make good decisions is ideal in any leader. In your situation, it is vital. In time, every decision you make – and I do mean, every decision – will impact the Seven Kingdoms. Whether those decisions will be for the better or for the worse is entirely up to you."

A wave of silence subsequently passed over the room. Jasper took a moment to absorb those words. At first, he took them as sage advice and nothing more.

Then they sank in. That was when he realized the full depth of them.

That was not a pleasant thought. Not in the least.

At this time, Jasper's plate was only half-empty, but he found he had quite suddenly lost his appetite.

He was dimly aware that all eyes were on him yet again. He gave them no notice. Instead, he slowly rose to his feet once more. He placed his hands on the surface of the table, as if to support himself.

"Your Grace?" said his great uncle Gerion Lannister. He sounded worried.

Jasper abruptly lifted his head up, mumbled "Excuse me, if you would," and swiftly departed from the Great Hall. Ser Arys Oakheart promptly followed him out. Everyone else remained behind, likely gaping in bafflement.

Soon enough, Jasper was outside on the balcony of the Banquet Tower. He felt a very sudden unexplained urge to retch. He rushed over to the rafter and stuck his head over it. Nothing came out, but the desire to expel his supper still lingered for a time. Once it disappeared, Jasper rapidly made his way to the stairwell and exited the building. Ser Arys trailed close behind, saying not a word but appearing quite confused.

The heir to the Iron Throne spent much of the next several days meditating on Olenna Tyrell's words. There was wisdom and truth to be found in them, but Jasper had also find a fair amount of apprehension in them.

Crown Prince Jasper Baratheon was destined to rule the Seven Kingdoms. He had never assumed even for a moment that being king would be simple. Nonetheless, he had never fully admitted just how challenging it would be, either. His experience with Lady Olenna had been something of a rude awakening. She had made him fully realize how difficult ruling an entire country would be. As of now, he felt he was hopelessly unprepared to ascend the throne. I cannot possibly take on that much responsibility.

Jasper attempted to continue about his normal everyday routine. He ate three meals a day, he attended lessons with his friends in Maester Kennick's office, he drilled with weapons in the training yard, and he prayed in the sept in the Worship Tower. However, no matter what he did, he could not get Olenna Tyrell's words out of his mind. He began to spend much of his free time alone in his quarters, reflecting on them.

As a result of this newfound fixation, he tried to avoid Lady Olenna Tyrell whenever he could. He still held no ill will towards the Queen of Thorns; he simply did not wish to receive any more of her "insight." Plus, he did not wish to have any more awkward encounters with her.

Fortunately for Jasper, Lady Olenna was only at the moat for another week. After that, she departed for the North with Robb and Margaery. The heir to Winterfell was quite eager to introduce his intended to his parents, and she was just as eager to meet Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn. Jasper was among the small crowd of people who saw their party off. He bade Robb and Margaery a very fond farewell, but he kept his farewell to Lady Olenna brief.

A little later that same day, Uncle Tyrion and Aunt Ellyn left, as well. Jasper saw them and their company off, as well. He bade them to have a safe trip to the Wall. It was somewhat queer that he had to crouch to embrace his uncle and stand on his toes to kiss his aunt on the cheek. All the same, they appreciated these gestures. He even had the chance to hold Duncan in his arms.

Jasper noticed his cousin had the blonde hair and façade of the Lannisters, but the physique and robustness of the Cleganes. He's a perfect combination of both his parents. I wonder if he's inherited their intellect, as well. If so, he'll grow to be one of the most eligible bachelors in Westeros.

"Be sure to keep him warm," the prince cautioned his aunt and uncle as he gave Duncan back to the former, "And you better stay warm, too. From now until you reach the Wall, it only gets colder."

"We'll keep that in mind," Uncle Tyrion drily remarked.

At this moment, Aunt Ellyn was playfully tickling Duncan's chin, making him giggle. She smiled at her son in joy, and then she turned to her nephew and told him "You stay warm, too. By the time we return, it may be as cold here as it is on the Wall."

"I'm certain we will manage," Jasper asserted. In a way, this little display of affection between his aunt and her son made Jasper feel warm internally. He held family in very high regard; it was perhaps the most important aspect of everyday life. In his opinion, motherhood really suited Ellyn Clegane. More so than it suits even my own mother.

"Well, good luck to you," Jasper Baratheon bade his aunt and uncle.

"And to you, as well," they both said in union. Shortly after that, they headed north.

Lord Gregor Clegane had been present when his sister and her husband left the moat. Jasper was walking through the moat's courtyard when the Mountain intercepted him.

"Are you indisposed at the moment, Your Grace?" Lord Gregor queried.

"No, I have nothing planned for the day, my lord," the prince replied.

"Then I would request that you accompany me to my solar," the Mountain stated.

Normally, whenever someone asked him somewhere, Jasper would have asked what the purpose of the meeting was in advance. However, he knew Gregor Clegane would never waste his time or have an audience with him without reason. So he just nodded and said compliantly "Very well."

Lord Gregor Clegane, Prince Jasper Baratheon, and Ser Arys Oakheart went to the Lord's Tower. They climbed it all the way to the third highest floor, where Lord Gregor's solar was located. Since Lord Gregor wished for privacy, Jasper ordered Ser Arys to stand guard outside the room. The white knight dutifully obeyed his prince's command.

Once inside the solar, the Mountain offered Jasper a seat in front of his desk, which the prince graciously accepted.

There was a small table beside the desk. On the surface of it were with a jug of water, a jug of wine, and a bowl of fruit.

"Would you care for some refreshment?" Lord Gregor proposed as he neared the table.

"A peach, if you please," Jasper beseeched him. They were his favorite.

Gregor Clegane picked a peach from the bowl of fruit and tossed it in Jasper's direction. The prince caught it in one hand almost effortlessly. "Thank you."

The Mountain nodded his head, poured himself a glass of wine, and took his chair on the other side of the desk. After taking a moment to get comfortable, he turned to face Jasper Baratheon. He looks anxious. I wonder why that is.

"Why did you wish to see me, my lord?" the Crown Prince inquired.

"I am concerned for you," the massive man revealed, "And so are your friends, as well as the top officers of the Legion."

"Why is that?" Jasper asked in bewilderment.

"These last several days, you have been rather withdrawn," Gregor pointed out, "Ever since that dinner with Lady Olenna, you have spent nearly every moment of your leisure time in your chambers."

"I have?" Jasper murmured, astonished. I know I recently spent some of my leisure time in seclusion. Could I truly have spent nearly all of it by myself?

"Yes, you have," Gregor Clegane affirmed, "This past week, Septon Norvin has seen more of you than I have."

"Is it wrong for one to yearn for some solitude?" Jasper disputed.

"No, but it is unusual of you to wish for this much of it," Lord Gregor contended. He sipped his wine, and then he remarked "Is something troubling you, Your Grace? You know you can be straight with me."

Of course I can. Had anyone else asked for his thoughts, Jasper would have denied them. He was more than a little reluctant to speak plainly on the topic that was currently occupying his mind. Lord Gregor Clegane, however, could be trusted with even his most intimate secrets.

Ultimately, Jasper released a slow exhale and muttered "Alright, I will be frank with you, my lord."

The Mountain gave a nod of acknowledgment and sat back in his chair.

Jasper took a minute to contemplate how to best begin the discussion. Then he looked to Lord Gregor and opened with "Have you ever had the feeling you do not belong, my lord?"

He was expecting the Mountain to automatically tell him that he had never had such a feeling. After all, Gregor Clegane was among the most admired and charismatic men in the Seven Kingdoms.

The answer Lord Gregor actually gave surprised the prince. He frowned and stared at the surface of his desk for a moment, and then he turned back to Jasper and told him "More often than you could possibly imagine."

Jasper was quite perplexed. He would have asked for clarity, but the Mountain had brought him to the solar to talk about the prince's sorrows, not his own. I can always ask him what he meant at a later time. Right now, let us not stray too far from our original topic.

Jasper Baratheon sat up in his chair and murmured "Well, that is the precise feeling I experienced at that dinner."

Lord Gregor raised an eyebrow. "You felt as though you did not belong in the Great Hall?"

"No," said Jasper as he bit into his peach. He chewed a few times and swallowed. "I felt as though I did not belong on the dais."

"Why is that?" Gregor Clegane asked.

Jasper did not reply straightaway. After a brief silence, he informed the huge man "Lady Olenna's words to me. Even though she meant well by them, the impression they left on me was not a positive one."

"Did she demean you?" Lord Gregor presumed.

"No, not at all," Jasper proclaimed, "But all that talk about the importance of making decisions and how the wrong choices can lead to catastrophe… it made me realize just how complex and dangerous being king would actually be."

Gregor offered a small, sympathetic smile and told him gently "I can understand your worries, Your Grace. However, that is precisely what Lady Olenna was trying to tell you. She spoke a fundamental truth. That truth is not easy to embrace, but it is an invaluable one. Far better you learn it now than when you inherit the throne from your father."

"That's just it, my lord," Jasper Baratheon disclosed, taking another bite of his peach, "For the longest time, I've been asking myself whether I truly want the throne, or if I should even have it. Now, I am inclined to believe I may not even be worthy of it."

By the expression on his face, Lord Gregor was stunned. "Did Lady Olenna's words truly discourage you so?"

"No, they just incited me to evaluate my own ability to rule," Jasper pronounced, "That is precisely what I have been doing in my quarters for the last few days."

"And have you reached a conclusion yet?" Gregor Clegane queried in interest.

"Yes," Jasper responded, a note of grimness detectable in his voice, "At this point in time, I can say with total confidence that I will be a lousy king."

The Mountain was astounded by that revelation. He frowned and asked "Since when do you have such low self-esteem, Your Grace?"

"My self-esteem is not the issue, my lord," Jasper claimed, "The issue is reality."

"'Reality?'" Gregor rejoined, "Jasper, ask any person in this fortress their opinion of you, and I can say with certainty that none of them would make the same deduction as the one you just made."

"Then they do not know me as well as they think," Jasper perceived, "And, with all due respect, neither do you."

That remark did not please Lord Gregor. Nevertheless, he did not become cross. He took another swallow of wine and muttered "If there is one aspect of your persona I do know, it is that you are not swayed easily. You are not one to be manipulated or misled by the ideals and views of others. You've always had strong conviction in your own ideals and views. So where is this coming from, Jasper? Why do you suddenly have these qualms?"

"'Suddenly?'" Jasper repeated, as though he had been slighted, "My lord, I have always had these qualms. You are just the first person I have ever spoken to about them."

"I should not have been," Gregor Clegane murmured. He sounds irate. "You should have sought out counsel for these problems long ago, even before you came to Moat Cailin."

"And just who should I have gone to?" Jasper retorted snappily, "Who would have been willing to listen to me fret?"

"Lord Jon Arryn, for one," Lord Gregor debated, "He is as much your advisor as your father's. You could have also sought out Grand Maester Marwyn o Lord Varys. Your uncle Stannis would have heard you out, too. Most of all, you could have asked the King and Queen. They are your parents; it is their responsibility to provide you with guidance."

"My father and mother were too busy ruling to be bothered with my petty troubles," Jasper claimed.

"No good parent ever regards their child's sorrows as 'petty,'" Lord Gregor disputed. His eyes widened momentarily, and then he rubbed his chin and queried "Did you even attempt to ask them?"

Again, Jasper hesitated. He had another bite of peach to delay his answer. After he swallowed, he admitted "No… I did not."

"Therein lies your problem," Gregor Clegane illuminated, "If you are so apprehensive, you should not keep your insecurities hidden away. You must talk about them. That is the only way you can confront and eventually overcome them."

Jasper could not deny that Lord Gregor made a very fine argument. He is absolutely right. I need someone to talk to. Maybe talking will finally cure me of my anxieties.

The prince steadily looked the massive man in the eye and asked him "Would you be willing to hear me out, my lord?"

"You know I would," was all the Mountain said in response.

Jasper Baratheon had never respected Gregor Clegane more than he did at that very moment.

He proceeded to tell the Lord of Moat Cailin of his many reservations about being the future leader of the Seven Kingdoms. Most of his qualms were centered around his capacity to handle the pressures of office. His main argument was that a true leader never doubted himself or his capacity to lead, yet he had doubts about his own ability almost every day.

Nearly all of Jasper's apprehensions were not problems that someone else could solve or help him solve. Only he could solve them, and only on his own. All the same, Lord Gregor managed to pacify many of his worries with sound words of advice. This advice relieved him of a fair amount of stress and self-doubt. It did not provide a solution to all his dilemmas, but it did give him a general idea on where and how he could begin to resolve them.

By the end of that conversation, Jasper felt considerably more confident in himself than he had been when he entered the solar. He still had mixed emotions on the concept of being king, but he suspected those would not vanish anytime soon. In any case, he was much less opposed to it.

There was, however, one subject that Jasper still wished to address. For various reasons, he had never mentioned this particular subject to any other person, as it was a very delicate one. However, he believed he could confide in Lord Gregor. Not only was he wise, empathetic, and reliable, but the Mountain was also quite possibly the only person who could relate to him on this subject.

By now, Jasper had finished his peach. He wiped his fingers clean of juice, and he fiddled around with the pit. As he did this, he muttered inquisitively "Lord Gregor, do you believe in superstitions?"

"Certain superstitions, yes," Gregor Clegane revealed. An appropriate answer from a man who can see into the future and allegedly alter the course of history.

"Would prophecies be among them?" Jasper enquired.

"I suppose," Lord Gregor contended, "It is no secret that I have courted fate many times and emerged victorious. Nevertheless, I cannot triumph over fate every time. Some events are predestined to happen."

Chief among them the Long Night. Jasper rubbed his chin and professed "Well, I have a philosophy I would like to share. You see, these misgivings of mine seem more instinctive than anything. Could they actually be a sign, my lord?"

"A sign of what?" the Mountain queried.

"A sign that the Baratheons were never meant to hold King's Landing," Jasper expounded.

Lord Gregor appeared to be puzzled. "That is a wildly fantastic hypothesis, Your Grace."

"I know it is," Jasper Baratheon admitted, "But consider the series of events that led to my father winning the Iron Throne. He killed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. That victory did not mark him as the better ruler; just the better warrior. Forces loyal to my father may have seized King's Landing in his name, but it was you and my grandfather who commanded those forces. Lastly, he used the fact that his grandmother was a Targaryen to stake his claim to the crown. While his claim may have been legitimate, ours was not the only highborn family the dragons were kin to."

When he made those points, Jasper kept his attention closely on Lord Gregor's face, taking note of any changes in his expression. Based on what he saw, Lord Gregor was beginning to see the validity in his words.

Lord Gregor leaned on his arm and uttered "You make a fascinating argument, Your Grace. While we're speculating, allow me to present you with a hypothetical scenario. If the Baratheons did not possess the Iron Throne, who do you believe would be best-suited to ruling the Seven Kingdoms? In other words, who would you prefer to see in their place?"

I had not given that issue much thought. But I suppose it would merit some contemplation.

Jasper sat in silence for a minute, thinking on several possibilities. Which family would produce the most ideal rulers for all of Westeros? Soon, he singled out his most appealing prospects, and he gave voice to them. "Since we are still on the topic of superstitions, did Jon tell you the full story of how we found Lyarra?"

"Just that you picked her up in the woods," Gregor Clegane commented.

"Well, there is a certain detail he left out," the prince recounted, "When we found her, she had just killed a stag. She managed to completely devour half of it before we took her back to Winterfell. Maybe that was another sign."

"Do you think it meant that the Starks will overthrow the Baratheons?" Gregor presumed, disbelief evident in his tone.

"No, Lord Eddard is too honorable to do such a thing," Jasper debated, "All the same, he was just as instrumental to the Rebellion as my father was. The Starks are the oldest family in Westeros. Furthermore, they are just, they are hardy, they are noble, they are fiercely independent, and they are practically immune to corruption."

"I cannot dispute any of that," Gregor Clegane acknowledged, "It is for those same reasons that the Starks would not do well on the Iron Throne. While those attributes have enabled them to magnificently rule the North for millennia, the North has always been an anomaly in Seven Kingdoms. Even with the diversity of the Night's Watch and the Legion without Banners, the North is ruled too differently from the regions south of the Neck. I admit a Stark could do well on the Throne, but before that happened, great readjustments would need to be implemented."

Jasper had to admit; Lord Gregor Clegane presented a fine counterargument. Jasper scratched his temple for a moment, and then he proposed "What if you were king?"

At that moment, Lord Gregor had been on the verge of taking another swig of wine. He had just touched the rim of his goblet to his lips when Jasper asked that question. Just before he could drink, his eyelids expanded and his countenance was etched in surprise. Had I waited another second to ask, he might have sprayed that red all over my doublet.

The Mountain hastily set his goblet back on his desk. Then he chuckled a bit. After that, he folded his arms and stated "I will admit that the notion of being king has its own type of appeal. Alas, I would be grossly unfit for the part."

"Take a look outside and say that again, my lord," Jasper countered. Does he think I jest? I do not; I am quite serious.

Gregor Clegane shrugged and stated "What I have accomplished at Moat Cailin with the Legion is remarkable; I will not deny that. But running a holdfast and running an army are not like running a kingdom."

"I'm aware of the differences, my lord," Jasper asserted, "I would remind you that my father was once the Lord of Storm's End, and he led men during the Rebellion. He adapted to the life of a king fairly well. There is no reason you could not do the same."

"The circumstances have some dissimilarities," Gregor pointed out, "Your father was born to be a Lord Paramount. I was born the son of a landed knight. There are some who would say I have already risen higher in the world than I had any right to."

"But the people love you," Jasper Baratheon proclaimed, "And I know you love them."

"It takes much more than love to win a crown," Lord Gregor obstinately muttered, "Jasper, we could sit here all day and argue over how qualified I might be to rule the Seven Kingdoms. All we would do is waste a great deal of precious time. So allow me to save us that time by saying this: I have no intention of being king in this life. Even if your father offered it by his own volition, I would not accept it."

Jasper was perturbed by Lord Gregor's declaration. He knew the Mountain was a persistent man, but now he was being downright inflexible. And I thought I was averse to sitting the Iron Throne.

"I understand, my lord," Jasper patiently remarked, "I apologize if I said anything that unsettled you."

"You did not, Your Grace," Lord Gregor reassured him. He drained the contents of his goblet in one smooth gulp. He wiped his mouth, withheld a belch, and set his goblet back down. After that, his mouth formed a wide grin, and he said humorously "All arguments aside, I doubt the Iron Throne is even large enough to accommodate a man of my… girth."

Almost Immediately, Jasper started snickering. It had been two years since he last saw the Iron Throne, but he had seen it enough times that he knew its precise measurements. While Father and Lord Jon could sit in it just fine, and they were slightly taller than the average man. But Lord Gregor is far more than "slightly" taller than most.

Jasper tried to imagine the Mountain sitting in the Iron Throne, and the image in his head was not pleasant. Maybe if he held his breath and did not fidget or move at all. Otherwise, I doubt it could be done.

"Most likely not," Jasper coincided with a sly smile.

At that very instant, there was a knock on the entrance to the solar. The prince and the Mountain simultaneously turned towards it. The latter called out "Come in."

The door opened to reveal Maester Kennick, who hastily stepped inside. He approached the desk and bowed to Jasper and Lord Gregor. Jasper noticed a piece of parchment in his right hand. The maester held the parchment out to his lord and announced "Missive for you, my lord. It is marked 'Priority One.'"

Jasper had been at Moat Cailin long enough to know that "Priority One" meant "for the Mountain's eyes only." Information does not get any more classified than that.

Jasper noticed that the parchment was stamped with a glob of black wax. On the wax was the image of a boat with an onion on the sail. The seal of house Seaworth. That intrigued him. "Why would Ser Davos be writing you, my lord?"

"He isn't, Your Grace," Maester Kennick disclosed, "The raven did not come from the south. It flew in from the east."

"The east?" Gregor murmured in interest. Maester Kennick just nodded.

The only thing east of here is whatever lies across the Narrow Sea. Jasper knew what that meant. We're finally receiving some news from Allard.

Lord Gregor took the parchment, murmured his appreciation, and stated "Wait outside, maester. I may need to send a follow-up letter."

Maester Kennick bowed again and shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Would you like me to leave, as well, Lord Gregor?" Jasper inquired.

"No, this should only require a minute or two, Your Grace," the Mountain claimed.

"Very well," Jasper avowed.

After Lord Gregor returned to his seat, he broke the seal on the parchment, smoothed it out, and began to read the contents.

All this talking has left my throat parched.

Jasper rose from his chair and made his way over to the table beside the desk. He filled another goblet with iced water until it was three-quarters full. He topped it off with a little bit of wine. Then he made his way back to his seat.

As the prince enjoyed his drink, he observed Gregor Clegane as he read his missive.

The Mountain spent five minutes reading that paper, and another five rereading it twice. Overtime, his countenance changed. When he started to read, his facial expression had been neutral. After those ten minutes passed, he looked stricken with worry.

Jasper, by contrast, was now composed and calm. My, how our positions have reversed.

He would have scoffed at the irony, had it not been for the fact that Lord Gregor was not usually one to exhibit signs of panic.

"Grave tidings, my lord?" Jasper said inquisitively.

After a tense pause, Lord Gregor gradually looked up from the parchment and murmured "Extremely grave."

He swiftly got out of his chair again and made his way to the lit brazier by the door. He held the parchment up to the flame until the corner of it caught fire. As the flames spread to more of the paper, Gregor moved over to the chamber pot and deposited the burning note into it.

Jasper set his goblet down, stood back up, and cautiously walked across the room to the elder man. He asked "What is it, my lord?"

Gregor Clegane did not answer him right away. He just stared down at the parchment as the flames caused it to blacken and curl up.

Once a small pile of ash was all that remained, Gregor murmured quietly "Jasper, just before the maester brought that letter, you and I were speculating on how Westeros would fare if a house other than yours held the Iron Throne."

"True," Jasper affirmed, uncertain where this was headed, "Why do you mention that?"

"Because I received some very unsettling news from Allard Seaworth," Lord Gregor Clegane apprised him, "Based on his account, there is a very distinct chance that we will need to revisit that scenario soon. Worse yet, we may be forced to do more than mere speculation."