Chapter 9 : Vows and Bonds

Aenar Targaryen

Greywater Watch

"Aenar?" a husky voice asked him. She was the vision—his cousin, his beautiful cousin. "Good morning, my handsome King," Alysanne said, her voice dreamy. "Morning to you, my star," he asked as her head rested on his chest and her divine naked body pressed against him. 'In the last three moons, they had slept together often, giving each other pleasure. He felt as if he was in bliss; the training with Arthur and the others had given him the feeling of acceptance—the best part of his life so far.' He thought happily.

"Aenar, is everything all right?" Alysanne asked. "Yes, just thinking of the past moons, I haven't been at peace like this before. I'm at peace, even knowing who I am and what is on my path. Sometimes, I wonder if I should just stay here and never leave." He finished.

"Mm, me too, more so now that you are here. You have made me more joyful than I have felt in a long time. Bastards grow up quicker than trueborns." Alysanne said as she snuggled closer to him.

"Yes, me too. I remember the day when all that stopped. When I was younger, I played with Robb, but one time, I fell and hurt my knee. So I cried and went to Lady Fish, asking a young child for help for its mother, as I thought she was. But she slapped me and told me, 'You are a bastard, and I'm not your mother. Never again come to me like that. Your mother was a whore, go out of my sight.' She had said, and I ran to the godswood, crying for my true mother to come. That day, my life changed in awareness, and I knew I was different. I was a bastard." He finished, feeling bitter at the memory.

Alysanne kissed him passionately. "I'm sorry that happened to you. But Lady Fish can't hurt you anymore. One day, she will know what kind of mistake she made by treating you like she did. Hurting a motherless child that already felt on the outside."

"I know, still memories and events never truly leave you," he said, and it was true. 'He knew he would never truly shake off the twelve years in Winterfell and how he was treated. But lying there with his lover pressed against him, he felt that happy memories could replace pain.' He thought hopefully.

"Come, love, we have more training for today. We don't want to miss breakfast," he said with a smile, kissing her and stepping out of bed. Not much later, they entered the main hall, where the rest of the court of Greywater was eating. "Morning, Jon and Alysanne," they greeted them, and they responded in kind. The meal was mostly fish and swamp greens, which were mostly mushrooms and other Neck specialties.

During the meal, Howland and Arthur both gave him looks. 'What would be going on now?' He wondered. "What is going on? You two have been giving me looks every time we have been eating."

"Something we have to discuss. A raven came from Lord Stark, but we will speak about it in my solar. It concerns Moat Cailin and you, but I haven't read your raven's scroll. Ned hinted at it during his raven to me," Howland said grimly.

"Well, it must be important if he also sent it to you. Anything else?" He questioned. 'His father had sent a raven Howland to? It must be important if his father sent a warning to lord Reed.' He mused.

"Yes, a message scroll from the Usurper-king as well. It came with the supplies from Moat Cailin," Howland said in response. Very interesting; hopefully, the man had accepted his plans to grant funds to rebuild Moat Cailin, as he had asked his father to do.

"Well, then, I suppose we will see what the scrolls hold when we are in the solar," he said. The rest of dinner was awkward; nobody really wanted to eat, only to know what was in the king's scroll and the raven from his father.

He was in the solar a short while later, joined by Howland, Arthur, and Allyn. "Fetch me the raven from Lord Stark," he instructed, his brow furrowed. He couldn't help but be taken aback by the absence of responses from his siblings to his ravens. He pondered if they might be purposefully avoiding correspondence, a thought that lingered disconcertingly in his mind.

Dearest son,

It warms my heart to receive news from you and Howland, relaying the joys of your stay at Greywater Watch. Your happiness is all I have ever wished for. However, your siblings are growing restless and waiting for your letters. Their disappointment was evident when they questioned the absence of your messages. Please write to them and relieve me of their constant prodding.

"Hmm, that's strange. Perhaps your letter wasn't sent or didn't arrive at Winterfell. It would not be uncommon for ravens to be lost at the Neck. You might need to send them again. Still, it's odd that your letters to your siblings didn't arrive, but your father's did. At least they didn't neglect to respond to your letters. Hopefully, future ones will arrive," Howland said, he nodded in agreement.

Regarding your ambitious plans for Moat Callin, Robert has blessed us with the required funds and a surplus of 50,000 gold dragons. This generous grant ensures the realization of your envisioned town, and the construction should already be underway as you read this letter.

But there is more to Robert's decree than mere financial backing. An arranged marriage is part of his design. Though it pains me to admit, this twist of fate might play to our advantage. Please read the enclosed scroll at your earliest convenience and respond with your thoughts once it has been perused.

Write back soon, my beloved son. Your absence is keenly felt by your siblings, myself, and all of Winterfell.

Yours faithfully,

Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North

His brow furrowed in disbelief as he processed the news. "Did both of you know about this impending marriage?" he inquired sharply, his voice tinged with frustration. The revelation of his betrothal, orchestrated by the very hand that took his father's life, ignited a simmering anger within him.

Arthur handed him a leather cylinder adorned with a crowned stag emblem. "Here, Aenar. This scroll bears the truth," Arthur replied solemnly.

With a mixture of apprehension and determination, Aenar broke the seal and unraveled the scroll within.

"To the future Lord of Moat Callin,

You are hereby granted the authority to establish a cadet branch of House Stark at Moat Callin. May your descendants forever thrive upon this land. In pursuit of its prosperity, you are granted the privilege to commission a fleet of 50 ships and oversee the construction of a channel connecting the Fever River to the Narrow Sea, accompanied by all requisite infrastructure. For the initial five years post-completion, all tax levies shall be waived.

This cadet house shall forever acknowledge the sovereignty of House Stark of Winterfell and the Wardens of the North. Furthermore, in a bid to strengthen the bonds between the North and the South, Lord Jon of Moat Callin has been granted a match by royal decree. By command of King Robert the First of His Name, you are to wed Margery Tyrell of Highgarden to exchange vows upon reaching the age of five and ten namedays. The auspicious ceremony shall grace Winterfell once the youngest spouse comes of age, of five and ten.

Sealed and ratified, King Robert Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Protector of the Realm."

His voice wavered as he reached the conclusion, his thoughts whirling amidst an upheaval of emotions.

"You've got to be kidding me. On one hand, I'm happy that one of the main kingdoms will be allied with me through marriage. But I wouldn't be surprised if the Queen of Thorns is already planning to kill me off, whether now or after Margery and I have a son. She'd be regent of the Moat Callin and then free to marry the crown prince or a higher noble," he speaking his thoughts aloud.

"True, Aenar, but at least the Moat will be a great stronghold to build our strength. The fact that the Crown agrees with the channel will make it almost impossible for a southerner to break through its defenses. It's already quite formidable. And with the addition of warships, Moat Callin could become one of the most impregnable fortresses in the North, if not the Seven Kingdoms," Arthur mused.

Arthur continued after a brief pause. "The marriage to the Tyrells was already one possible option we were considering. But now, we can openly approach them without revealing our true heritage. We can do it openly, and perhaps, by gauging their characters, we can bring them into the fold. Many houses in the Reach are still loyal to House Targaryen."

"True, I suppose. We have a busy few years ahead," he said with a chuckle. But his face turned grim at the thought of having to tell Alysanne about this.

"What's wrong, Aenar? Isn't this beneficial for our long-term plans? Moat Callin will be in a strong position to grow your power and influence," Howland asked, noticing his grim expression.

"It's Alysanne. It's not every day you must tell someone you love that you are marrying someone else." 'Damn, there it was. He had said it out loud, or maybe he had already told her he loved her. He wasn't sure. Damn, this was much.' He thought happily,

Arthur, Allyn, and Howland chuckled. "Yeah, Aenar, just wait until you get both of them in a room. That's going to be interesting," Allyn said with a chuckle, finding amusement in his predicament.

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh at my expense. Laugh while you still can before I'm burned alive," he said with a smirk, playfully acknowledging their amusement.

"Well, I suppose we can plan a trip to Moat Callin to see the castle and oversee some of its construction next month. I'm pretty sure my family would love to go on a trip to the Moat and its lands," Howland mused.

"Very well, I think it would be a good trip. I'm also excited to train some jousting with you, Arthur, and to see Winterfell again." The thought of returning to Winterfell brought a smile to his face.

"Also, this trip would allow me to send out ravens to Highgarden, Lord Mace, and Lady Margery. Hopefully, I can get to know her better. Perhaps in the future, I can travel to Highgarden and meet her before we marry." He said.

"Yes, that would work. Greywater Watch can only send out ravens to Winterfell and Moat Callin for communication, unlike the other places in the Seven Kingdoms," Howland replied. For the next hour, the four of them made plans for the trip, discussed writing a response to his father, and brainstormed potential agreements between Moat Callin, the Reach, and possibly the rest of the North.

Afterward, both he and Arthur went to the armory to put on their training gear. He observed the two girls he had come to care for as they sparred, as was their routine during this time of day. Meera demonstrated a natural talent for wielding a spear. At the same time, Alysanne combined a fierce determination with a graceful fighting style, reminiscent of the blending of Dorne's hot sands and the North's cold snow.

"Excellent work, ladies," Arthur complimented as he entered the courtyard with a warm smile. "So, Jon, what happened in the solar?" Alysanne inquired with curiosity, prompting a gulp from him. Deceit was never a successful path when dealing with those you held dear.

"Well, I'm betrothed, arranged by the Usurper. He has chosen a match for me, the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden," he said directly, without beating around the bush.

"WHAT!" Alysanne shouted, her surprise evident, her wolf blood boiling over at that moment. He could see the anger in her eyes.

"I know, Alysanne. It's not every day you have to tell someone you love that you're betrothed to someone else." He smirked at her.

"Are you laughing? This isn't funny. I just got you, and you're already betrothed," Alysanne said with a mixture of frustration and affection. But then he leaned in and kissed her passionately.

"I love you, Alysanne. And when your fierceness comes out, you're even more beautiful, like a wolf protecting its pack, or in this case, its mate," he said with a bright smile after they broke apart.

She blushed, still taken aback by the kiss. "You idiot, maybe next time, say it with more tact. But I don't care. You're betrothed. I love you too," she said and then kissed him back with equal passion.

"Ahem," Arthur cleared his throat, breaking their embrace. "Shall we train, or do you need to retire for the day?"

"Let's train, you old man," he retorted playfully. The rest of the afternoon was filled with high spirits as they trained, the four of them thoroughly enjoying the time.

"Little brother, coming to get Jon," Meera called out, her breath ragged from the training. Jojen nodded and said his goodbyes to the others, sharing a final kiss with Alysanne before leaving with Jojen for the godswood.

"Jojen, have you had any more visions?" He asked once they were settled against the heart tree.

"Yes, I saw the ancient Nightfort. We will both go there. One shall pass, and the other shall stay, finding knowledge. But I don't see details, like our age, when this will happen, or why. We must go to the Nightfort, where a blood-red raven with three eyes awaits us."

"I've been considering a trip to the Wall to speak with my uncle Aemon. And I'm running out of time with Dany. Last I heard from her, she had arrived in Pentos. Her brother is becoming more erratic by the day. To be strong enough to go there, I might need a dragon. But I'm torn between hatching the eggs or awakening the dragon from the stone. On Dragonstone, I only see Dany and one other shadow, a giant black shadow in the form of a dragon, flying North."

"There is something we haven't tried. In the old legends, when you offer blood to the weirwood, you receive a blessing or the ability to see certain things, perhaps due to the blood of the greenseers. However, there are risks. If you get trapped in a vision, you might never return. Drowning in it, so to speak. You need a strong will. Weak minds might break in a vision, which might be a source of certain forms of madness. People are not able to handle their visions," Jojen mused, his usual wisdom prevailing.

"Let's try it. I do much for my kin and the people I love.

With a knife in hand, he deliberately cut his palm, using the same blade he had received on his eleventh nameday from Robb. In a hushed murmur, he chanted, "Dragon of stone, your resting place shall be unveiled, your presence known. A creature dark as coal, with eyes aflame in crimson." He pressed his bloodied palm against the gnarled trunk of the weirwood tree.

In an instant, a torrent of images cascaded before his mind's eye. A splendid black dragon, eyes shining like molten gold, burst forth, scorching the land as it soared through the heavens. Desperate cries of men echoed, fields turned to charred remnants in its blazing wake. The vision shifted, granting a fleeting glimpse of two dragon eggs hatching, both as dark as the midnight sky. One bore eyes radiant with golden light, while the other possessed orbs of deep crimson. One hatchling formed an inseparable bond, while the other remained solitary. Amidst darkness, the latter devoured abandoned eggs and consumed the remains of fallen dragons. Eventually, it was banished from a city, forced away by the terror it inspired.

The scene transformed into a mesmerizing dance of dragons, five majestic creatures taking to the skies. One ventured westward. Two soared towards the east, another ascended into the southern heavens, while the last embarked on a journey northward. As the intricate aerial choreography unfolded, the dragons fell, one after another, until only a solitary ebony figure remained. In the end, it lingered in the North, its solitary flight a poignant testament to an unattainable yearning that extended beyond its grasp.

The vision reached its crescendo, leaving Jon stupefied, his mouth agape at the astonishing revelations that had unveiled themselves.

"It's the Cannibal!" He erupted with excitement, shaking Jojen in sheer jubilation.

"It appears your communion with the Old Gods is potent indeed," Jojen chimed in with an uncharacteristic sparkle of delight, a rare departure from his usual solemn demeanor.

"Thank you, Jojen. It seems my path is leading me to Skagos, to the Isle of Cannibals," he disclosed, a swirl of eagerness and trepidation in his voice. Few ventured to that eerie realm and returned to recount their experiences.

Daenerys Targaryen

Pentos

Her arrival in Pentos was the same as when they arrived in Myr. But now she had hope that Aenar would come for her. 'She loved him, she knew, as a family but also as a man loves a woman. She just hoped he would come before they were to be moved again. They had stayed in Myr for a year; Pentos most likely wouldn't be any different. These places never felt like home, like the first house she had lived in with the red door and lemon tree. Dragonstone felt even more like home than anything else. She wasn't sure if it was the place itself or the person she was there with.

She and Aenar had explored the ancient Valyrian ruins with their black stone, dragon statues, and carvings of the war. Some sites on the wall had carvings from ancient Valyria. Somewhere Aenar would travel to, which made her worry every time she thought of it. He was the last person she held close in her heart; her brother was nothing to her, seeing her only as a bargaining chip. Her sweet mother, whom she had killed, but Aenar had stated that it was the way of life and children weren't to blame for that. She could tell he had felt the same in the beginning, but someone else had told him differently, which wasn't his fault. So, he gave her the same advice he had been given.'Her sweet thoughts of the boy she loved were interrupted by her brother.

"Daenerys, come, Illyrio has brought you something to wear for the feast to spark some interest in you," he said excitedly. He had a white silken dress in his hands; it felt soft and pleasant to her skin, but its meaning made her skin crawl.

"So, what do you think, sweet sister?" He said as he grabbed her arm, his nails digging into her skin. 'I'm a true dragon, and he is a false one.' 'Dany, you are a dragon; never forget that,' letting Aenar's voice calm her.

"Yes, it's a wonderful piece, brother," she said in her trained, polite voice, and Viserys's grip on her arm relaxed. "Good, go and put it on for the feast," he said and left her in her room with her handmaidens.

The herald announced them as they walked into the main hall of the Prince of Pentos. "King Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, and his sister, Princess Daenerys Targaryen." She almost snorted at the announcement of her brother being king, but she knew better than to do that. The true king was in the North, preparing to become a king, unlike Viserys, who thought people should respect him just for being a king.

The room was filled with nobles from Pentos and the Narrow Sea. "Ah, welcome, King Viserys. May I introduce you to Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island," a northerner like Aenar? She was curious now; Aenar had spoken of the Northern houses, and she remembered the she-bears of Bear Island.

"Your graces," Ser Jorah Mormont said, giving a light bow to both of them. Jorah Mormont was a large, middle-aged man with black hair and a hairy chest as hair seemed to come out of his shirt. His face was covered with a black beard and a balding head, but he had a strong build. He wasn't anything like Aenar, who looked like a god of beauty compared to Jorah.

"Ser Jorah has many contacts within the Free Cities and the Dothraki. They are brutal but effective horsemen who, for the right price, could help you reclaim the Seven Kingdoms, Your Grace," Illyrio bowed his head as he spoke.

"Truly, what could I expect? What are the numbers?" Viserys asked, showing some interest instead of rejecting the idea outright.

"The largest khalasar at the moment is that of Khal Drogo. He commands around 30,000 Dothraki screamers, if not more, along with the rest of his khalasar. Maybe around 70,000 in total. Last I heard, Khal Drogo was moving against Khal Pono near Norvos to take his khalasar and become the strongest Khal," Jorah ended.

"30,000 savages, you mean. But at least I would have an army," Viserys mused a hint of excitement in his eyes.

"Your Grace, can I speak to you privately if I may?" Illyrio asked, and her brother agreed, leaving her alone with Ser Jorah Mormont.

"Ser Jorah, what is Westeros like? Are the people waiting for us, as Illyrio said?" she asked.

"Yes, Princess, the Usurper, and his companions are despised by the people of Westeros. Myself included, I hold a great hatred for the Lord of Winterfell. He and his so-called brothers in arms have mismanaged the Seven Kingdoms." Ser Jorah spoke with a hint of bitterness. 'This was surprising; Aenar hadn't spoken about that or that his uncle was bad. Lord Eddard Stark had saved Aenar by having his own honor tainted and naming him a bastard.' She thought.

"Truly, then, they deserve to be killed. Ruling the Seven Kingdoms is a duty, and it is a shame it has fallen into disrepair under their rule. My family united them, and as long as one of us lives, we are the rightful rulers of the lands," She said. 'she meant Aenar, although Ser Jorah certainly thought she meant her brother as of what he said next.

"I will help as I can to restore the rightful King to the throne, restore the realm to its proper place," he said, nodding his head toward Illyrio and Viserys, who glanced at her with a look of contentment and greed that sent shivers down her spine.

"Thank you, Ser Jorah, for your service. I am sure my brother and I will be grateful," she said with a smile at him. The knight bowed and gave her a warm smile. 'maybe the man isn't that bad. Although his tales of lord Winterfell left in doubts about that.' She thought as she looked at the man.

"Sister, I have great news for both of us. Magister Illyrio has come up with a suggestion. You will marry Khal Drogo, who is currently unmarried. This way, we gain his khalasar," her world stood still as she took a deep breath. She didn't even listen to the rest of what her brother was saying as she tried to process this.

"Sister!" Viserys hissed, and she was pulled back into consciousness. His grip on her arm was painful. "Damn it, pay attention, you slut," he hissed, spittle from his mouth landing on her face.

"Yes, brother," she stammered. "I'm sorry, I was just surprised, that's all," which seemed to please him, and he released her arm. "Well, I said it wouldn't happen until after you've bled. We still need to make agreements between me and Khal Drogo, which will take at least a year or two," Viserys explained.

"May I go to my chambers? The events of the evening have worn me out," she said, and it was true; the pronouncement of her brother had shaken her.

"Very well. Ser Jorah, I would like you to stay. I want to hear more about my kingdom," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Illyrio motioned to an Unsullied guardsman who escorted her to her chambers.

In her chambers, she collapsed onto her bed and cried herself to sleep, hoping for the relief of seeing Aenar again.

"Dany, my love." How sweet Aenar's voice sounded as she found herself back at Dragonstone. This time, they were in the room with the painted table. She walked over to him and cried into his shoulder as they embraced. "Dany, what has happened? Your brother again?" he said with pity for her and anger towards her brother.

"Yes, and he has made plans for me. I'm to be married to a Dothraki Khal," she sobbed. His breath hitched. "Damn him, I will not slay my uncle, but I will make sure the man deserves punishment for what he has done to you," Aenar said with a growl.

"I will ensure you will never have to marry him, Dany. I found out who the dragon was, that I had to wake from the stone, and where the dragon was. It's the Cannibal, and he has flown to Skagos. So I will go to the Wall to visit our uncle Aemon. I will leave for Moat Cailin in a moon's turn and stay for maybe two to help with its construction and plans. After that, I will return to Greywater Watch, and for another two moons, I will travel to Winterfell and then to the Wall. It will all take maybe a year; at its end, I will have found the Cannibal. On it, I will hatch the eggs and come to you to rescue you from your brother," he finished his plan.

"Oh, I hope you succeed, my love. I don't think I could bear it if the marriage happens. I'd rather kill myself. From what I know of the Dothraki, they are savages who have destroyed cities and kingdoms, raping and pillaging wherever they go. Who does my brother think he can control them? I have no idea. He is a weak man," she said, her voice marked with despair, hoping she wouldn't have to bleed for a few moons.

"Just stay strong and educate yourself. Read the books that the Magister has, maybe even learn swordplay so you can become the queen you've always been, or at least in my eyes. Your mother would be proud to see you stand strong, as am I," Aenar finished, his voice full of longing as he kissed her passionately.

"Dany, I also have something else to tell you. It's good for our cause. The Usurper has betrothed me. I'm to wed Margaery Tyrell when we both turn five and ten namedays," he said uncertainly.

"Oh, but that's still in the future, and honestly, it's good for our house. We are few in number left. Also, it would bring the Reach to our cause. The only thing I'm concerned about is that in the eyes of the world, she will be your only wife. I know you plan to marry me, but what if she thinks her sons should be on the throne? We can't have another Dance of the Dragons. What if I bear you a son first? Then, she might be inclined to plot against my child. We can't allow that," she started to stutter, but he stopped her by kissing her.

"I'm working on plans, Dany, to ensure nothing like that will happen again. What happened with Viserys I. I can't let it be repeated. It was the Hightowers and most likely the maesters who started it. Aegon II didn't want to take the throne, but the manipulations of his mother and grandfather and the pressure got to him. He believed his sister would kill him. But I won't let resentment happen like it did with Viserys the First. Family should be the core of our house, not power. If we stand together, then no other power can stand against us. That's what destroyed us in Robert's Rebellion. The family was divided; they even fought on two sides. Robert is your grand-cousin and my great-cousin. His grandmother was Princess Rhaelle Targaryen, daughter of Aegon the Unlikely," he ended, and she looked shocked. 'The killer of her brother, Aenar's father, was her cousin.' She thought, shocked.

"So, besides being a baby killer and a usurper, he's also a kinslayer. If I couldn't hate the man anymore," she snarled. "So, when the time comes, I will ensure that won't happen again. Perhaps something in Valyria can help me create a blood oath or something," he said with a chuckle.

"But I'm making you this solemn vow, Daenerys Targaryen. I, Aenar Targaryen, the first of my name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm, do pledge myself to you, Daenerys Targaryen, should you be willing, as my first wife until the end of my days," he concluded with an unwavering tenderness in his tone.

"Aenar, are you sure about this?" "I'm Dany. I know I love you, and I will commit to you if you accept it. By the old gods and the gods of Valyria, I do so declare," he expressed, clasping her hands in his own. The hues of his eyes, a curious blend of purple and grey, radiated pure delight.

"I do accept you as my husband, Aenar Targaryen. I solemnly pledge this by the Old Gods, the New, and by the gods of Valyria. I shall remain yours until the end of my days," they exchanged a passionate kiss, and the world around them faded into obscurity. A vision emerged, graced by three dragons soaring through the heavens – one in the hues of obsidian and crimson, another adorned in emerald and bronze, and the final one cloaked in ivory and gold. Together, they rent the skies with triumphant cries, an omen of things yet to unfold.

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