Honor Before Blood - A Game of Thrones AAR
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Update tonight or tomorrow, though I'm having trouble getting into Stannis's head. We'll see how it goes.
In case anyone missed it due to end-of-page-syndrome, Update #3 was the last post on page 1.
In case anyone missed it due to end-of-page-syndrome, Update #3 was the last post on page 1.
HONOR BEFORE BLOOD
Stannis I
Stannis I
Lord of Dragonstone. The title almost left Stannis’s lips as he thought it, his mouth forming a grim line as he even now refused to acknowledge his brother’s insult aloud. Though Robert was miles away in King’s Landing, and the distance was only growing greater with every second, Stannis refused to give him the satisfaction. While the Targaryen kings had long awarded the island to their presumptive heirs, he was a Baratheon of Storm’s End. Robert was now the king on the Iron Throne, thus the Stormlands belonged to Stannis by all laws and rights. Instead Robert gave them to the stewardship of Renly. An eight-year old child.
A week before, Stannis had believed that he would be on his way to his family keep. Instead he now was traveling towards the castle of Stone Drum. The night was dark as he stood at the bow of his ship, only a few stars gracing him with their presence.
Sleep refused to come easily for him. Stannis found his bed was uncomfortably warm and crowded, despite the coolness of the sea air, and his mind was constant in its turmoil. So instead of resting, It seems that I've been reduced to wasting my time brooding. Pathetic. Stannis grimaced as the his brother’s insults washed over him anew.
For over a year, he had led the defense of the Stormlands in Robert’s name, fighting against the Tyrell host. He had withstood both siege and open battle, starvation and blood alike; he had proven his worth a thousand times over. After Storm’s End had been relieved by Eddard Stark and his Northern host, Robert had commanded Stannis to take a small force to capture the pregnant Targaryen queen and her young son. Strange, how it is always Lord Stark who is called the savior of the siege of Storm’s End. The entire year I managed to hold the garrison now seems to have become only a prelude to the glorious last minutes of the act. Unfortunately, his force had been delayed when it attempted to pass around Driftmark when its Lord, Monford Velaryon attacked. When Stannis had finally arrived at Dragonstone, the former queen was long gone. For my alleged failure, I’ve been cast aside by my brother. Nevermind that the Targaryens had been spirited away to Braavos before I even set sail from the Crownlands.
Stannis did not outright blame Renly for Robert’s actions, but he could not help but feel resentment his younger brother. It’s only natural considering what he holds is mine. Filial duty should have seen him refuse the title. Conveniently forgotten was the fact that Renly was a child, hardly someone ready to oppose the ruling of a king and a beloved brother for the sake of duty.
It had never been a secret that their Robert had little love for Stannis, nor he for him. Stannis had always been an awkward and ungainly youth, ill at ease with people and their foolishness, whereas Robert was able to convince men to follow him through the brute force of his will. They had always mixed as well as oil and water, the boisterous older brother and his taciturn shadow. Yet what galled him most about Robert was that the king pretended that his insults to Stannis were an honor and a duty.
“I need you as my shield against the Dragonspawn,” Robert had told him in King’s Landing, the king’s eyes seemingly alert and on the horizon but his voice dull, “to watch the East and protect the Iron Throne from invasion by sea. As my heir, I’m naming you Master of Ships as well as Lord of Dragonstone. Do your duty, Stannis. Root out the traitors and make the islands ours.” The task was more a fool’s errand rather than an outright lie. I am no idiot. The remaining Targaryens heirs are not a threat to Westeros, not yet. It is important to erode the remaining royalist support, as Robert is king by right of conquest, but most men will never follow a child without forgeign backing. And who would support the remaining dragons? Most of the East has little business in Westeros, despite the vile looming presence of the Iron Bank within the politics of the realm.
In truth, Stannis knew he had been driven out of the mainland because Robert did not trust him to stay in line. Despite his faithful service to the house of Baratheon, to his brother, he was being sent out to a pitiful rock in the middle of the ocean that held little prestige and even less wealth. With Tywin Lannister whispering in Robert’s ear and his daughter warming his bed, his brother was rapidly turning against anyone who could challenge his authority.
Or could challenge the lion for control of the capital. Eddard Stark, his brother’s oldest friend, had been driven from King’s Landing out of disgust for the murder of the Targaryen heirs at the hands of Robert and Tywin Lannister. The limits of the ‘perfect friendship’ Robert always spoke of, it seems. Perhaps Lord Stark now realizes what type of man my brother really is.
As Stannis watched his brother take control of the kingdoms, it seemed more and more obvious that Robert cared little about acting against the true threats to the stability of the realm. The Dornish seemed content to stay on the sidelines after they received the skulls of the Mountain and his men who had killed Elia Martell, but Stannis knew that they continued to sharpen their knives for the chance to avenge her children. The men of the Iron Isles had sworn their nominal fealty to the new king and his house, but they had already begun to blood their warriors with heavy raiding along the coasts of Essos and were constructing a fleet. And the Tyrells, who had feasted outside of Storm’s End while Robert’s own men collapsed from the pain of hunger, and whom the king should have hated most, were forgiven and brought back into the fold. They were free to poison the capital with their influence. They bent the knee and the Crown turned its eye from justice.
In the end though, while Stannis groused over the machinations of the court, he knew his course. While he may dislike his brother, while he may never be given his due, he would obey Robert for the blood they shared and for the position his brother held. Though the Stormlands were his by right, the king gave them to Renly; he would abide by that. He would rule Dragonstone, fairly and justly, to ensure that it would be a bastion of Baratheon support rather than a landing ground for a Targaryen invasion. He would not fail.
He had much to do. Stannis’s mind lurched into motion, planning his administration of the isles. House Celtigar had sworn loyalty to him, but they could barely be trusted. They were old Targaryen loyalists, sworn to the original lords of Dragonstone before even Aegon's conquest. The island of Driftmark was too far away to directly rule from his new seat; a noble family was now needed to replace the traitor Velaryons who Stannis had deposed after returning from his chase of the queen. He had it in mind to place his new second, Davos Seaworth, in control of the island. I will have to force it past the fools I now rule. They are men obsessed with honor, despite having none of their own, and will complain that a commoner, much less a former smuggler, now stands as their equal. In truth, for the service Davos has done for House Baratheon, he is already by far their superior. Loyalty and capable hands matter far more to me than blood.
Stannis had punished Davis fairly for his past crimes, then knighted him and given him a noble house. It was galling then, that the lords of the Stormlands had taken to calling Davos 'the Onion Knight', mocking the man for the very cargo that had allowed Storm's End to hold through the siege. Some had even thought to demand the former smuggler be removed from the court, as if Stannis had been theirs to command even when he had been their presumptive lord. It was partly for this reason that he was willing to elevate the man so quickly, now that he had the opportunity. He had been mocked for taking the righteous path before. Now he would not be denied.
Stannis was beginning to brood again when he heard light footsteps behind him, barely made out over the sound of the waves crashing against the ship. He turned and found his wife of only a few weeks past approaching him slowly with nervous look on her face. Vivyen Royce.
-
It had been with some small degree of horror that, when Stannis returned to the capital, he had found that his brother had meant to marry him to Selyse Florent. Everything he heard spoken of the woman cast her as being a foul-looking and mindless girl. Just one of many slights made against me by Robert. Despite his strong opposition to the betrothal, he had little success in combating it until he made an unlikely ally: Lord Jon Arryn.
Stannis had only been in King’s Landing for several days after his failed expedition when Jon Arryn requested to meet with him in secret. Though he despised the underhanded nature of the capital, he agreed after some consideration. Partly out of curiosity about the man who had raised his brother, and partly in apprehension about what the new Hand of the King wanted of him.
It turned out that Jon Arryn feared the rising influence of Tywin Lannister in the court and needed an ally to help combat him in the chambers of the Small Council. As Hand, he could convince Robert to name Stannis Master of Ships in order for him to be that ally. In return for his help limiting the Lannister's influence on the crown, Lord Arryn would aid Stannis with his own battles. At first Stannis had been taken aback, having no desire to remain in the capital, but Jon Arryn appealed to the need to stabilize the realm. After several days of hard thought, Stannis accepted the offer and plans began to be set in motion.
Through their combined efforts, they managed to stall the negotiations with the Florents long enough for Jon Arryn to find a more suitable match for the brother of the king: the daughter of his vassal, ‘Bronze’ Yohn Royce. It was to some surprise that Lord Arryn revealed that the lady’s cousin, Myranda Royce, was now Tywin Lannister’s new wife. They could present the betrothal to Robert as a way to tie the realm together, far more valuable than simply placating the Florents. Desperate to avoid his brother’s first match, Stannis acceded to the choice.
Robert had complained and raged at the time, saying that Jon and Stannis had made him look like a fool to the lords of the Reach, but he had eventually agreed to the marriage. Within the fortnight Stannis and Vivyen were joined together by the High Septon. For that brief moment, the young lord finally felt like he had gained a portion of stability in the new world that emerged when Robert rebelled. Then his brother named him Lord of Dragonstone and he was lost again.
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After they stood some time in silence, Vivyen spoke, her voice soft. “Is my company so terrible that you must flee from our bed, Lord Baratheon? I have noticed that you are uneasy around me and that you often leave soon after I’ve lain with you.”
“I have many tasks required of me. I cannot always remain in my chambers after my husbandly duties are fulfilled. As a noble lady, your family must have taught you this. Why does this bother you?”
A look of hurt flashed across Vivyen’s face, but she remained in place. Stannis grimaced. I am unable to speak to my own wife without causing her pain. After a moment, she responded. “Am I not bound to try and understand my new husband’s heart? I understand if you do not desire me, but we must remain together until the day we die. I simply wished to...” Vivyen stopped herself, then shook her head and turned to leave. “Forgive me. Good night, husba-”
“You’re wrong.” The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment before Stannis realized they we’re his own.
Vivyen paused but could not look him in the eye. “W-what is it?”
“I do find you desirable, Lady Royce. I... apologize... if my words seem harsh. I did not mean to cause offense. It is simply my way.”
Stannis turned away, hiding his face. He looked out over the ocean again, his hands gripping the wood tightly as he continued to speak. “Your father married you to me expecting that he would become the father-in-law to the Lord of the Stormlands. I know that my place is considerably lesser than your family had been led to believe. While I understand that we must both fulfill our duties, I will not presume to expect that you have any desire to remain in my presence any longer than you have to. I am not a pleasant man to be around.”
There was silence for a moment and then suddenly Vivyen was standing next to him.
“Do not presume to know my heart, husband. You may be a harsh man, but I swore an oath to remain by your side. I will see it fulfilled.”
How strange. “So be it. Then you may remain with me, if you wish.”
Together, they traveled on through the darkness.
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I like that post. It's always nice to see Stannis interacting with people he doesn't interact with in the books.
Well, it turns out that all of my progress on the next update was lost, so it will be a bit more time until the next chapter is posted. For my faithful few followers, I'm sorry for the wait. 
You won Best Character Writer of the Week for last week, btw!
Now it is time for you to nominate someone for this week
Now it is time for you to nominate someone for this week
HONOR BEFORE BLOOD
Eddard II
Eddard II
Winterfell was quiet. Or at least is seemed so to Ned. Though the castle was filled with the noises of a normal keep, it was only a distant murmur compared to the thundering cacophony of crashing mail and shouting men that had surrounded the young lord for so long.
The banners of the North had divided once again after the great host arrived at Winterfell, the various lords returning to their holds. The sworn men of the Starks had gone out in their fury seeking vengeance against the crown and returned with only the bodies of the dead as trophies of their victory. Willam Dustin. Rickard Karstark. The entire line of the First Flints. Their corpses were proof of the great triumph that Eddard Stark had brought for the North.
And so, after it all, the dead were buried.
Ned walked the familiar paths of the godswood, his hand twitching down to his waist to rest on the pommel of a sword that no longer hung there. It was a reminder of the sort of life he had lived for the last year, a journey of blood and vengeance that had only ended in the crypts a few short hours ago. He had stood there alone, as the Lord of Winterfell, watching silently as great stone slabs were laid over the bodies of his family. And finally it was over.
The heart tree at the center of the godswood had always been a place of sanctuary for Ned. Even before the war, spending time under the weirwood’s branches had been how he meditated and ordered his thoughts. Now the grove called to him as a place where he could grieve in solitude, without fear of showing weakness in front of his vassals or his new lady wife.
As he wept, he walked through the wood, trying to listen for the gods speaking on the whistling wind. Though he had never believed that the gods cared much for the world of men, he wanted to hear them now. To have them explain the reason behind bloodshed he had faced, to have them lay out a path forward. Following the wind, he finally reached the clearing at the center of the wood where a small dark pool lapped gently at the roots of the heart tree. The tree's carved face openly mirrored his own, the red sap clear against the white bark as it mourned. Yet rather than finding a god at its base, Ned only saw his brother Benjen, who was quietly hunched beneath its red leaves.
The man in front of Ned bore little resemblance to the younger brother he had left behind. Benjen was aged beyond his years, bent over with grief and worry. He had become thin and haggard and frail, his black hair falling in dark strings over his face. He looked closer to a beggar than the son of a noble lord. After a quick moment of indecision, Ned wiped his eyes clear and let out a quiet cough to make his presence known.
His brother looked up at the noise, his eyes rimmed with red. “Ned.” Benjen’s words seem to echo in the silence of the grove, the space between the brothers cold and empty.
“You weren’t at Lyanna’s burial.” Ned hadn’t meant the words as an accusation, but his voice was harsh and clipped as it left his lips. He was angry, he realized. Almost furious. Benjen had forced him to bury their entire family by himself. He needed answers. “Instead, I find you here. This is the first time I’ve seen you in the godswood in since mother died. Why? Where were you when I needed you?”
Each word hit Benjen like a blow. After a moment he spoke, his voice soft and quiet. “I was here.” His brother swallowed and continued. “I came here often during the war, when you were down fighting in the south. I came to pray for your safety in battle. To beg the gods that you and Lyanna would survive to come back to Winterfell after it was all over. I didn’t want to lose any more of our family.” Benjen voice cracked at the end. “Unfortunately, it didn’t work.”
The trees seem to moan as the breeze flowed through the godswood again, but Ned paid it little mind. Benjen looked down into his hands, slowly closing them into fists.
“I should be sorry that I wasn’t there with you. I know that is where I should have been, by all rights, but I just couldn’t bare to look at them. Lyanna was so full of life and joy. Brandon was our wild wolf, one moment playful and the next furious. And Father was a rock, stern and watchful and proud. That’s what I want to remember them as, not as those damn piles of bone you brought back from the south.” Benjen looked up, staring into Ned’s eyes. He stuttered at first, then spoke clear. “I... I want to join the Nights Watch. Fewer men are coming to the Wall every year. There, at least, I could make a difference. Let me take the black, Ned.”
For a brief moment, Ned wanted to simply nod and let him go. Many men went to the wall out of grief, having no place in the world after the death of loved ones. He knew that Benjen would be in good company. But he heard his sister's voice again. 'Promise me, Ned, promise me.' He made a promise to protect Jon from all those who would do him harm. Robert held the south. Any moment he could learn of the truth and march on the North. When it came down to it, Ned could not afford to allow Benjen to run away, no matter how much he might wish it.
Ned closed his eyes and let out a breath of air. “I need you here, Benjen. I’m sorry.”
Benjen flinched backwards, a sound of disbelief coming from his throat. “You have plenty of men ready to help you run the North. Good men!” He spoke, his voice frantic. “You don’t need me here, getting in the way.” Benjen put his hands on Ned’s shoulders, desperately looking him in the face. Blue eyes quivered, hoping for the answer he sought. “Let me go to the Wall, Ned. Please, I need this.”
Ned’s anger had fallen away. Now all that was left the cold emptiness that had settled in his stomach since Father and Brandon died.
He moved away from his brother and looked into the dark center of the pool. “You know... ,” Ned spoke, his voice a low murmur, “I’m terrified, Benjen. Jon Arryn may have fostered me well, but I’m not nearly ready to be the Lord of Winterfell. I was to be given me a small hold at most. Perhaps I would have worked with Brandon, helping to keep our bannermen in line. Now I’m supposed to be responsible for all of the North!”
“Ned...” Benjen’s voice gasped out one final plea even as he knew the answer.
“And what’s even more terrifying is how many of our men seem certain that I am ready to rule. Roose Bolton came to me after the Battle of the Trident, offering me his complete support. He said that while the deaths of Father and Brandon were terrible crimes, I would be a better ruler than most. That I was a thinker where Brandon was a warrior. You know the truth. My silences are more out of shyness than contemplation. I can lead the men in war, but I know nothing about peace. I haven’t earned the trust that my men give me.”
The last words were nearly shouted. Ned’s hands were shaking. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Will it be enough convince him? If not, should he tell him? How dangerous would it be for Benjen to know about Jon? Ned’s brow hardened and he stared into Benjen’s eyes. Putting on a voice that brooked no compromise, he spoke slowly but clearly, “I need you here in Winterfell. With me.”
Benjen winced and moved backward. He shook his head. “Please, Ned... I...I can’t. I need to take the black. I must go!”
Ned frowned. There was more than sorrow there. There was guilt. “Why, brother?”
Finally Benjen broke, tears falling from his eyes as he ducked his head down. “Because it was my fault. Lyanna and Rhaegar. The whole war. I knew about them from the start. I helped her when she left with him. She left willingly, Ned.... She may have loved Robert, but only ever as a brother. Never in the way he loved her.”
Hearing the sheer desperation in his brother’s voice, Ned had come to a decision. Benjen needed to know the truth. That meant he would have to reveal everything. He spoke softly, his voice flat. “Did you think that I did not know?”
Benjen yelped. “What?” Blue eyes searched Ned’s face, fear coming off his brother in waves.
“I knew our sister as well as you did. Lyanna was always one to do as she willed. She could be have easily been called the wild wolf instead of Brandon. I don’t think she could have been taken by force, even by a dragon. We both know that she would have fought every step of the way if she had been, tried to escape back to the North. During the war I was almost certain that Lyanna had left willingly. And I long suspected that you helped.” Ned looked at Benjen. “Which one of you was the Knight of the Laughing Tree back at the Tourney at Harrenhal?”, he asked.
Benjen stood there, his face a mask.
Ned sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. It may have been foolish for them to have run away together, but once the war started, I expect that she wanted to return home above all else, if only to stop the bloodshed. But nothing could stop it then. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't even Rhaegar's or Robert's fault. Absolutely no one could have anticipated the depths of insanity that the Mad King had fallen to.” Ned swallowed, his voice cracking. “No one could ever blame you for their deaths. You are my brother and I love you.”
The two brothers stood there for a moment in silence. Then tears slowly began to fall from Benjen's eyes.
“When I reached the Tower of Joy, I found Lyanna right before she passed.” Ned paused for a moment, tears of his own streaking down his face. “She was weak... from childbirth.” Benjen looked up in shock. “Once I reached her, she made me promise to protect her son. That is why I need you here, Benjen.”
Benjen breathed out the name. “Jon.”
Ned jerked his head. “He is Lyanna’s son by Rhaegar.”
For a moment, Benjen simply stood there. Then he moved to his brother’s side, putting an arm around his neck. They stood like that for a long while, mourning the family they lost and thinking of the new life they had gained.
After their tears had tried, Benjen half-smiled, a shadow of his old self flitting across his face. “I should have known you would be too honorable to hurt your new wife like that. Jon is a bastard, then?”
Ned’s face twitched into a frown. “No. Half the Kingsguard were guarding the Tower of Joy, watching over the two of them. He was treated like an heir to the throne. Rhaegar must have married Lyanna. Though some might debate the legitimacy of it, he wouldn’t be the first Targaryen to take two wives. By all rights, Jon is the rightful Targaryen heir and true King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. He is more dangerous to Robert than any Blackfyre pretender could ever be.”
Benjen grimaced. “Is that why you broke with Robert? The fact that the king murdered Jon’s half-siblings and would do the same to him?”
Ned shook his head. “Before I even knew of Jon, I made Robert swear to keep Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon safe. Jaime Lannister had saved them from his father’s bannermen during the sack but I knew that they were still in grave danger, even under his protection. I thought I made Robert realize that they did not have to be a threat. That they were children and were innocent of their family’s crimes. When I returned to King’s Landing with Jon and found the prince and princess dead, do you know what Robert told me? ‘I promised to protect children, Ned. I only killed Dragonspawn.’ I left because my best friend had turned into a monster.”
Ned could see Benjen’s mind working as he spoke, making plans for the worst. His brother spoke, his voice a lower whisper. “Do you think he suspects at all? About Jon?”
“No. If Robert knew, he would have acted. But we need to prepare for the day he does. It would take the gods’ own luck for this to remain a secret forever.”
The pair began to walk back to the keep, side by side. The sun was beginning to bow low in the sky, a burnt orange washing over the forest.
“How do you plan on setting up a proper defense against the crown?” Benjen blinked, a note of incredulity entering his voice. “Do you mean to rebuild Moat Cailin?”
“Eventually, yes. That is where I mean to place you, in a few years time.” Ned paused for moment, taking a moment to lay out out his thoughts clearly in his mind. “Beyond that though, we are vulnerable above all else to an invasion from the sea. The North is as large as the other kingdoms combined. We must find the lords to guard it."
Benjen made a noise of approval. “That is why you asked Jaime Lannister to come back to the North with you. We need more bannermen to hold the countryside, more fortresses to protect our coasts.” He looked out at the rising stone walls of the castle. ”The Lannister name will certainly draw in many men, but is Ser Jaime’s reputation one that will help us? He is an oathbreaker.”
Ned nodded, his thoughts turning to the young knight. “It’s strange. When I first entered the capital and heard that Jaime Lannister had killed Aerys while Tywin sacked the city, I was appalled. The oath the Kingsguard swear is something sacred and this boy had profaned it. Then it turned out that very same ‘boy’ had turned around and successfully fought to save the young heirs to the kingdom from his father’s own men, killing two knights and ten soldiers in the process.”
Benjen stared at his brother, sheer disbelief on his face. Ned face twitched with a small smile. It seemed that his brother had not heard the Kingslayer’s tale in full.
"He is natural warrior. And with some training, he will become a good leader," Ned continued. "He is strong willed and stubborn, with virtue and honor strong enough to turn aside from Tywin Lannister. Oathbreaker or no, I'm certain that those that Ser Jaime allows to follow him will be of the right stock.
Benjen shook his head and spoke. “And where is the Warrior-reborn now?”
“A few days north.” At Benjen’s quick look, Ned explained, “I sent him and the Greatjon under Wylis Manderly to Long Lake with some fresh levies. They are to secure the land from bandits that sprung up while we were fighting in the south.”
“I see.” Benjen blinked, running his hand through his hair. “You’re using the opportunity to introduce him to every lord you can, aren’t you?”
Ned nodded.
“And you’re supposed to be the straightforward and honorable brother. Roose Bolton is right, you know. You are a thinker, Ned.”
Ned coughed and walked forward, his face slightly pink. With a smirk Benjen sped up, matching his pace.
“Where are you planning to grant him a holding?”
Ned was silent for a moment, his face set in concentration as he tried to envision the entire North in his head. “With the line of the First Flints broken, the area around the southern edge of the Northern Mountains lacks any strong lord to govern it,” he said, becoming more certain as he spoke, “and I’m thinking of ordering Jaime to establish a hold there, at the base of Greymont.”
“Are you sure?” Benjen frowned. “Would it not be wiser to grant him land down by White Harbor where he could act as our representative to the South? Maybe ask Manderly to give him that ancient hold, the Wolf’s Den...”
Ned shook his head. “No. As much as we need to make Ser Jaime one of our own, we also need to convince the more traditional lords and the mountain tribes that adopting southern practices will be a boon to the North. We’ll need them, if it comes to war with Robert. He can’t stay in the south.”
“Then to Greymont it is. Marry him off to a good Northern woman and within a few years you wouldn't even know he was Southron.”
Ned’s lips twitched into a smile. “Who were you thinking of?”
Benjen thought for a moment, then spoke. “Probably Maege Mormont and her daughters. They're young, but any one of them would be a good match.”
Ned nodded. “I’ll write to Jeor, then.”
The two brothers left the godswood behind, entering into the halls of the keep.
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This AAR seems unique to me in that is specially emotion-and drama-driven, and I quite adimre it. Also, very solid characterisation of Stannis. Ikeep wondering what will be the main events to unfold
Thanks, ngppgn. It really means a lot to hear you like it. o
I re-read the entire story so far, and edited a couple of things. Mostly minor edits in Jamie II, Cersei I, and Catelyn I. I also changed the section in Eddard II (above), where Jaime's fight with the Mountain and his rescue of the Targaryen children is retold for the THIRD goddamn time in this story. It now reads a bit different, with the emphasis no longer placed on telling the reader something they already know.
oI re-read the entire story so far, and edited a couple of things. Mostly minor edits in Jamie II, Cersei I, and Catelyn I. I also changed the section in Eddard II (above), where Jaime's fight with the Mountain and his rescue of the Targaryen children is retold for the THIRD goddamn time in this story. It now reads a bit different, with the emphasis no longer placed on telling the reader something they already know.
Hey all, sorry for the lack of updates. Bit of a confession: this chapter was one of the hardest writing experiences I ever had. I even skipped it, and went on to stuff after it because I was stuck for so long. I try not to beg for responses, but I could really use some feedback on this one. -Zynnw
Despite the fact that the Citadel had declared that summer had officially begun, snow was falling over the northern mountains. It came down in light sheets, blanketing the land, as a small band of warriors slowly made their way across the foothills of Greymont behind their liege.
They were Lannister men, sworn to the Kingslayer. As his personal guard, they represented a vast portion of his new land’s power and wealth; of the twelve, five had little more than basic furs and leathers. The rest had some small amount of armor, most looking like it had been scavenged from battles past. Dented helmets and caved-in plate hammered back into place covered an odd assortment of men, the company an uneven mix of Northmen and Southron. They were the third and fourth sons of minor noble lords, they were talented foot soldiers looking for a way up in the world. Even an extremely skilled peasant-turned-hunter found his way as one of their number, his black bow in hand as he guarded their rear. These were men who had come from nothing. These were men who had gained everything, all for following the Kingslayer.
So when the he asked his men to stop in a small clearing and fall behind him midway on their journey back from Bear Island, they obeyed without question. Though they were sworn to be his shields, some measure of privacy could be afforded as stability returned to the North. Still, they kept a wary eye open for danger, ready to protect their lord - and his guest - at a moment’s notice.
Not far beyond them were Jaime Lannister and Maege Mormont, the warrior-woman on a small hill atop a black horse while the young lord rode the short distance up to her. While Maege looked much as she always had, stout with dark brown hair cropped short, the Kingslayer now appeared far more the Northman than Southron knight. His blond hair was longer than shoulder length, swept back away from his face, with several loose braids hanging behind his ear. On his chin was a thick and well-kept beard, hiding a still somewhat boyish jaw. His mountain lion cloak rested around his shoulders, gold and white.
Jaime moved to wrap the cloak tighter around him as he rode. The air was cold, for all that the Citadel may have declared it to be a ‘new season for a new king’. They were in the far north, where the beginning of summer meant only a slightly lighter snowfall rather than the greening fields of his youth. When Jaime breathed in the northern air, his throat still burned; when he went out into the cold, he still had to hide beneath his furs. The young knight brushed his hand over his face and felt his beard stiff with frost. He shuddered to think what a true winter would bring. For all he looked the part, he wasn’t really a Northman yet.
He brought his horse alongside Maege and stepped out of the saddle, feeling the animal shift beneath his weight. He patted the grey mare’s side gently as he reached the ground, then quietly spoke. “So, you wanted to speak with me privately?”
Maege seemed to scowl as she looked out over the snow-covered hills. Finally she muttered, “You’re going to beggar yourself with your generosity, little lion.”
Jaime frowned slightly. Watching the warrior-woman for the last few days, she had seemed to be tense and on edge. Now it was coming to a head. “What do you mean, Maege?”
His companion shifted in her saddle, sending a few strands of dark hair falling over her eyes. “Twelve. Twelve men you’re paying for as glorified bodyguards when you’ve barely finished building your fortress. How are to run your own keep without someone keeping a stern hand on your coin purse?” Her own hand twitched up to move her hair back into place.
Jaime couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of amusement and exasperation. He snorted and leaned against his horse. “And how many feasts have you bears held in the last year? At how great expense? This last one was held just to celebrate the Lionfort being finished, and I’m only a family friend.”
Maege shifted on her horse again. “We’re an established family.”
“But not a particularly wealthy one.” Jaime twisted around, trying to catch the his friend’s eyes. “What’s really wrong, Maege? I’ve run the numbers. As a new lord, I have to build up my forces. These aren’t bodyguards, but future retainers who will help me run my hold. They just don’t know it yet. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten my responsibility for my own coin, despite your family’s continuous generosity.”
Maege stiffened. Then she turned and looked down at him with fire in her eyes.
“Generosity? It’s doesn’t count as damn generosity when they want something in return!” Maege snapped at him, her teeth bared. “By all the fucking old gods, Jaime, use your head! You’re respected by Ned Stark and have made friends with his fish wife. You’re descended from one of the oldest and wealthiest dynasties in Westeros. You’re an honorable man and a great warrior, if not particularly intelligent.” She snorted. “Of course my family has tried to tie their future to yours. In helping you now, they get to reap the rewards later.”
Maege pulled her horse forward, dark hair sliding back over her face as the beast moved. Her lips were curled in a half snarl, her breath puffing out in white gasps. With the snow falling gently over her, a small part of Jaime’s mind stopped just to take her in. She was scarred and battle-worn, but brave and fierce. As much a bear as Cersei was a lioness.
With that in mind, Jaime slowly began to speak, watching Maege’s back for any sign of movement. “Your family provided a place for me at their table when my hold was being built. You spent good coin helping me set up my lands, even inviting men from all the seven kingdoms to your keep to meet with me.” He swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “Maege, your own personal support has given me more credibility then my Lannister name ever could. Whatever the Mormonts need, I’ll try to give.” Either this would work, and she would calm down, or she would tear his throat out.
It was quiet for a moment. Then Maege seemed to slump in her saddle. “You’re too honorable for your own damn good. I guess there’s no stopping it, then.” She turned around, her eyes hard. “Jaime, Jeor wants you to marry one of my daughters. That’s his price for House Mormont’s continued backing. Dacey is oldest, so she’ll do best. I can help you arrange the wedding when we get to the Lionfort.”
“What.” Jaime’s mind came crashing to a halt. Dacey Mormont, the little girl who he had seen at Bear Island every time he had visited, who laughed when he made faces at her when she sat near him at feasts. He was supposed to marry her?
Maege rolled her eyes at his expression, trotting her horse back over to where he stood. “Its just marriage, Jaime. Perhaps you might have expected to remain single forever, but that would be news to everyone else. You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in all of Westeros.” She spoke slowly, as if he were a simple child. They both waited for something in the falling snow, but the only sounds seemed to be the breathing of their horses. Finally Maege’s voice entered the void. “Now, about the marriage...”
Jaime’s mind sputtered back into motion, his tongue quickly catching up. “But Dacey is only twelve name-days old!”, he stammered. “There’s no way I can marry her! S-She’s like a little cousin to me. I even let her braid my hair!” His hand leapt up to the bundle of twisted hair he had tucked behind his ear. “I... I just can’t think of her like that!”
“She’s thirteen, Jaime. She’ll be a woman soon, though she hasn’t bled yet,” Maege countered, her face stern.
“D-don’t tell me that!” Jaime felt his face turning red.
The warrior-woman snorted. “If you’re to marry my daughter, I’d expect you to at least know the facts of life.”
“Seven hells. I know the damn facts, woman!” While he was certainly no stranger to lives of women, this entire conversation has taken a turn to things he really didn’t want to think about.
Maege frowned, looking down at him from her horse. “If you’re going to be this fussy, then what was that big speech of yours from before about?” She sighed. “Jaime, I’d rather not sell my daughter off like a slab of meat. Not when she doesn’t have any choice of her own. But the Starks want you to be married to a good Northern woman and Jeor’s putting pressure on me to supply one. And while I could afford to be selfish for myself, I have to look to my daughters’ futures. You’re a good man, at least.”
“Damn it, Maege.” Marriage. Jaime closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his face. He wasn’t ready for it. Especially not with a little girl, near-woman though she might be. He knew he needed to convince Maege of that, fast, so he blurted the first words that came into his head. “If I had to marry a Northern woman, I’d rather marry you!”
Time seemed to stop and all went quiet again. Immediately Jaime began to curse himself. Why had he said that? Why had he said that?! He looked up.
Maege sat stock-still in her saddle, the black horse beneath her twitching and nervous. Jaime opened his mouth to apologize, but no words seemed to come. Finally he croaked out, “Maege, I’m sorry, I didn’t think...”
“No, you didn’t.” It was a stern rebuke, the statement a verbal slap he well deserved. Maege had been married before, he knew. To a man who had died scarcely over a year ago at the Trident. He had no place saying what he had.
They were silent, letting the snow simply fall over them again. Then Maege spoke.
“I suppose I never did tell you much about Donnel.” She was right next to him now. “He was a simple warrior really, in service to my father when I met him years ago.” Maege’s voice was soft, far from her normal tones. She chuckled sadly and looked out towards Greymont, shaking her head. “You don’t need to know the full story, but in the long and short of it, I decided to tell my father and his noble matches to fuck off and chose to follow my heart. Luckily, the old git got over it after a couple years and invited me back into the family.” She swallowed hard and turned back to him. “Have you ever loved someone like that, Kingslayer? Someone you would sacrifice everything for?”
In his mind he saw brilliant green eyes, mirrors of his own. He looked to Maege and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I have.”
Maege stared at him closely for moment, then nodded in return. “Then you know how I feel. Donnel is dead, but I’ll always remember what he meant to me. Is it the same for you?”
Jaime slowly shook his head. “She’s not dead, but there’s no way we can ever be together.”
“Then, I’m sorry.”
“I am as well.” Jaime sighed. At least he seemed to have caused no lasting damage to his friendship with his idiocy.
“Good. Well, at least now you know what you’re getting into if you were serious.”
He brows pulled down in confusion. “What do you mean, Maege?”
“It’s simple. I don’t want you to marry my daughter. You just offered to marry me instead.” The warrior-woman looked down at him, waiting for a response.
“Maege...” The name slipped out, an nervous whisper rather than a warning tone.
“You get one chance to back out, Jaime. This is it.”
He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think. He simply nodded.
The warrior-woman smirked. Then she twisted in her saddle and rode out past him back down into the clearing. When she was halfway out to the band of Lannister soldiers, she stopped and shouted as loud as she could. “Listen up, boys! Your lordly lion just proposed to me, in what is quite likely the most backhanded way possible. Luckily for him, I’ve decided to accept rather than simply kill him.” The men rose and roared their approval, laughing all the while. When they started to give their congratulations, the warrior-woman nodded and beckoned for them to follow. She then rode back over to Jaime, who took the opportunity to scramble back onto his horse.
The young knight’s hands shook as he held his reigns, as if his entire body vibrating. He looked at his now-betrothed. She seemed more fierce and free then Jaime had ever seen her before. Only in the middle of battle had she ever appeared even close to how beautiful as she was now. Still, he had to be certain. “Maege, are you sure of this?”
“I suppose I’m a bit older than you, but I can still push out a child or two.” She shrugged, sending a few strands of hair back into her face. “I can’t promise that we’ll have a love for the ages, but at least you’ll have a friend in me.”
Jaime sighed, but he still couldn’t help but smile. Maege was one of a kind. A she-bear, brave and bold.
Still he couldn’t let her have all the fun. “I suppose you’ll still help me plan the wedding? I admit that I have no idea what to prepare for, except for what happens after the ceremonies are over.” He reached over to her and moved her dark hair back into place with his hand, resting a bit on her cheek. “That part, at least, I can look forward to.” And to his delight, and no small degree of satisfaction after having been on the backfoot for their entire conversation, Jaime watched Maege Mormont’s cheeks turn slightly pink.
Jaime and Maege the year after their wedding (285 AC).
-
The company made it to the Lionfort late in the evening.
The fortress was squat, made out large blocks of the dark grey stone native to the area. Even under the dimming light, one could see that it was ugly and unpolished, with a ramshackle collection of wooden buildings huddled against it. Yet when Jaime caught sight of his banner fluttering in the darkening sky, the white lion on blue and grey, his throat grew thick. Before he could even speak, the gates shuddered open.
His castellan, a red-haired Westerman by the name of Hugh of Kayce, walked out to meet them. “My lord, it is good to see you again,' the man paused for a moment at the sight of Maege, "and y-you as well, Lady Mormont. A hot meal awaits you all inside.” The entire party lurched forward towards the keep at the promise of food.
But as the group moved forward, Hugh moved quietly beside Jaime and whispered, “A small word, if you could, before you eat.” With a nod Jaime dismissed his guards as he followed his castellan. Maege left with the group, looking back once before entering the main hall.
The red-haired man led him to a smaller tower, where the maester of the castle would eventually sit. “Will Lady Mormont be staying long?”, Hugh asked somewhat anxiously. “I can have the servants prepare a special room for her, if it will be more than a week.”
Jaime coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. The castellen and Maege had never seemed to get along. “She’ll be staying, but in a somewhat more permanent fashion. We became betrothed on the road. Several hours ago, in fact.”
A truly interesting series of expressions slid over Hugh’s face, before the man settled on a nervous smile. “M-my congratulations, lord. I will arrange for a room to be set up for her until the wedding, as well rooms for her daughters.”
Jaime chuckled. “What is the news then?”
“A representative from a small iron mining village under your protection has come. He wants to speak with you.” Hugh paused for a second but then asked, “Did you receive any news on Bear Island about the matter we discussed earlier?”
Jaime nodded. “Now that the last of the main construction on the Lionfort has finished, the Citadel is sending us a maester.” Hugh looked truly relieved at that. Jaime chose not to hear his muttered sentence of ‘Thank the seven. I wouldn't be able to keep up with that bear-woman alone.’
The two men climbed the stairs of the tower, finally reaching a small chamber where a short and grubby figure waited. The man looked to be a hill clansman, with a wild and mangled beard. He glanced up at Jaime when he entered, then nodded.
“You the Jim?” His voice was rough, but understandable enough.
“The Jim?”
“The leader. Jaime Lan- What’s-his-face. The Ned put you in place?”
Jaime struggled to keep a straight face. “Yes. That’s me.”
With a jerk the hillman pulled something out from behind his back and threw it on the ground. It was a brown cloth bag, now open, filled with clumps of an umistakable yellow ore.
“We found gold.”
Map of the North at the end of the prologue. Note the position of the Lionfort just to the north of Winterfell.
HONOR BEFORE BLOOD
Jaime III
Jaime III
Despite the fact that the Citadel had declared that summer had officially begun, snow was falling over the northern mountains. It came down in light sheets, blanketing the land, as a small band of warriors slowly made their way across the foothills of Greymont behind their liege.
They were Lannister men, sworn to the Kingslayer. As his personal guard, they represented a vast portion of his new land’s power and wealth; of the twelve, five had little more than basic furs and leathers. The rest had some small amount of armor, most looking like it had been scavenged from battles past. Dented helmets and caved-in plate hammered back into place covered an odd assortment of men, the company an uneven mix of Northmen and Southron. They were the third and fourth sons of minor noble lords, they were talented foot soldiers looking for a way up in the world. Even an extremely skilled peasant-turned-hunter found his way as one of their number, his black bow in hand as he guarded their rear. These were men who had come from nothing. These were men who had gained everything, all for following the Kingslayer.
So when the he asked his men to stop in a small clearing and fall behind him midway on their journey back from Bear Island, they obeyed without question. Though they were sworn to be his shields, some measure of privacy could be afforded as stability returned to the North. Still, they kept a wary eye open for danger, ready to protect their lord - and his guest - at a moment’s notice.
Not far beyond them were Jaime Lannister and Maege Mormont, the warrior-woman on a small hill atop a black horse while the young lord rode the short distance up to her. While Maege looked much as she always had, stout with dark brown hair cropped short, the Kingslayer now appeared far more the Northman than Southron knight. His blond hair was longer than shoulder length, swept back away from his face, with several loose braids hanging behind his ear. On his chin was a thick and well-kept beard, hiding a still somewhat boyish jaw. His mountain lion cloak rested around his shoulders, gold and white.
Jaime moved to wrap the cloak tighter around him as he rode. The air was cold, for all that the Citadel may have declared it to be a ‘new season for a new king’. They were in the far north, where the beginning of summer meant only a slightly lighter snowfall rather than the greening fields of his youth. When Jaime breathed in the northern air, his throat still burned; when he went out into the cold, he still had to hide beneath his furs. The young knight brushed his hand over his face and felt his beard stiff with frost. He shuddered to think what a true winter would bring. For all he looked the part, he wasn’t really a Northman yet.
He brought his horse alongside Maege and stepped out of the saddle, feeling the animal shift beneath his weight. He patted the grey mare’s side gently as he reached the ground, then quietly spoke. “So, you wanted to speak with me privately?”
Maege seemed to scowl as she looked out over the snow-covered hills. Finally she muttered, “You’re going to beggar yourself with your generosity, little lion.”
Jaime frowned slightly. Watching the warrior-woman for the last few days, she had seemed to be tense and on edge. Now it was coming to a head. “What do you mean, Maege?”
His companion shifted in her saddle, sending a few strands of dark hair falling over her eyes. “Twelve. Twelve men you’re paying for as glorified bodyguards when you’ve barely finished building your fortress. How are to run your own keep without someone keeping a stern hand on your coin purse?” Her own hand twitched up to move her hair back into place.
Jaime couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of amusement and exasperation. He snorted and leaned against his horse. “And how many feasts have you bears held in the last year? At how great expense? This last one was held just to celebrate the Lionfort being finished, and I’m only a family friend.”
Maege shifted on her horse again. “We’re an established family.”
“But not a particularly wealthy one.” Jaime twisted around, trying to catch the his friend’s eyes. “What’s really wrong, Maege? I’ve run the numbers. As a new lord, I have to build up my forces. These aren’t bodyguards, but future retainers who will help me run my hold. They just don’t know it yet. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten my responsibility for my own coin, despite your family’s continuous generosity.”
Maege stiffened. Then she turned and looked down at him with fire in her eyes.
“Generosity? It’s doesn’t count as damn generosity when they want something in return!” Maege snapped at him, her teeth bared. “By all the fucking old gods, Jaime, use your head! You’re respected by Ned Stark and have made friends with his fish wife. You’re descended from one of the oldest and wealthiest dynasties in Westeros. You’re an honorable man and a great warrior, if not particularly intelligent.” She snorted. “Of course my family has tried to tie their future to yours. In helping you now, they get to reap the rewards later.”
Maege pulled her horse forward, dark hair sliding back over her face as the beast moved. Her lips were curled in a half snarl, her breath puffing out in white gasps. With the snow falling gently over her, a small part of Jaime’s mind stopped just to take her in. She was scarred and battle-worn, but brave and fierce. As much a bear as Cersei was a lioness.
With that in mind, Jaime slowly began to speak, watching Maege’s back for any sign of movement. “Your family provided a place for me at their table when my hold was being built. You spent good coin helping me set up my lands, even inviting men from all the seven kingdoms to your keep to meet with me.” He swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “Maege, your own personal support has given me more credibility then my Lannister name ever could. Whatever the Mormonts need, I’ll try to give.” Either this would work, and she would calm down, or she would tear his throat out.
It was quiet for a moment. Then Maege seemed to slump in her saddle. “You’re too honorable for your own damn good. I guess there’s no stopping it, then.” She turned around, her eyes hard. “Jaime, Jeor wants you to marry one of my daughters. That’s his price for House Mormont’s continued backing. Dacey is oldest, so she’ll do best. I can help you arrange the wedding when we get to the Lionfort.”
“What.” Jaime’s mind came crashing to a halt. Dacey Mormont, the little girl who he had seen at Bear Island every time he had visited, who laughed when he made faces at her when she sat near him at feasts. He was supposed to marry her?
Maege rolled her eyes at his expression, trotting her horse back over to where he stood. “Its just marriage, Jaime. Perhaps you might have expected to remain single forever, but that would be news to everyone else. You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in all of Westeros.” She spoke slowly, as if he were a simple child. They both waited for something in the falling snow, but the only sounds seemed to be the breathing of their horses. Finally Maege’s voice entered the void. “Now, about the marriage...”
Jaime’s mind sputtered back into motion, his tongue quickly catching up. “But Dacey is only twelve name-days old!”, he stammered. “There’s no way I can marry her! S-She’s like a little cousin to me. I even let her braid my hair!” His hand leapt up to the bundle of twisted hair he had tucked behind his ear. “I... I just can’t think of her like that!”
“She’s thirteen, Jaime. She’ll be a woman soon, though she hasn’t bled yet,” Maege countered, her face stern.
“D-don’t tell me that!” Jaime felt his face turning red.
The warrior-woman snorted. “If you’re to marry my daughter, I’d expect you to at least know the facts of life.”
“Seven hells. I know the damn facts, woman!” While he was certainly no stranger to lives of women, this entire conversation has taken a turn to things he really didn’t want to think about.
Maege frowned, looking down at him from her horse. “If you’re going to be this fussy, then what was that big speech of yours from before about?” She sighed. “Jaime, I’d rather not sell my daughter off like a slab of meat. Not when she doesn’t have any choice of her own. But the Starks want you to be married to a good Northern woman and Jeor’s putting pressure on me to supply one. And while I could afford to be selfish for myself, I have to look to my daughters’ futures. You’re a good man, at least.”
“Damn it, Maege.” Marriage. Jaime closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his face. He wasn’t ready for it. Especially not with a little girl, near-woman though she might be. He knew he needed to convince Maege of that, fast, so he blurted the first words that came into his head. “If I had to marry a Northern woman, I’d rather marry you!”
Time seemed to stop and all went quiet again. Immediately Jaime began to curse himself. Why had he said that? Why had he said that?! He looked up.
Maege sat stock-still in her saddle, the black horse beneath her twitching and nervous. Jaime opened his mouth to apologize, but no words seemed to come. Finally he croaked out, “Maege, I’m sorry, I didn’t think...”
“No, you didn’t.” It was a stern rebuke, the statement a verbal slap he well deserved. Maege had been married before, he knew. To a man who had died scarcely over a year ago at the Trident. He had no place saying what he had.
They were silent, letting the snow simply fall over them again. Then Maege spoke.
“I suppose I never did tell you much about Donnel.” She was right next to him now. “He was a simple warrior really, in service to my father when I met him years ago.” Maege’s voice was soft, far from her normal tones. She chuckled sadly and looked out towards Greymont, shaking her head. “You don’t need to know the full story, but in the long and short of it, I decided to tell my father and his noble matches to fuck off and chose to follow my heart. Luckily, the old git got over it after a couple years and invited me back into the family.” She swallowed hard and turned back to him. “Have you ever loved someone like that, Kingslayer? Someone you would sacrifice everything for?”
In his mind he saw brilliant green eyes, mirrors of his own. He looked to Maege and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I have.”
Maege stared at him closely for moment, then nodded in return. “Then you know how I feel. Donnel is dead, but I’ll always remember what he meant to me. Is it the same for you?”
Jaime slowly shook his head. “She’s not dead, but there’s no way we can ever be together.”
“Then, I’m sorry.”
“I am as well.” Jaime sighed. At least he seemed to have caused no lasting damage to his friendship with his idiocy.
“Good. Well, at least now you know what you’re getting into if you were serious.”
He brows pulled down in confusion. “What do you mean, Maege?”
“It’s simple. I don’t want you to marry my daughter. You just offered to marry me instead.” The warrior-woman looked down at him, waiting for a response.
“Maege...” The name slipped out, an nervous whisper rather than a warning tone.
“You get one chance to back out, Jaime. This is it.”
He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think. He simply nodded.
The warrior-woman smirked. Then she twisted in her saddle and rode out past him back down into the clearing. When she was halfway out to the band of Lannister soldiers, she stopped and shouted as loud as she could. “Listen up, boys! Your lordly lion just proposed to me, in what is quite likely the most backhanded way possible. Luckily for him, I’ve decided to accept rather than simply kill him.” The men rose and roared their approval, laughing all the while. When they started to give their congratulations, the warrior-woman nodded and beckoned for them to follow. She then rode back over to Jaime, who took the opportunity to scramble back onto his horse.
The young knight’s hands shook as he held his reigns, as if his entire body vibrating. He looked at his now-betrothed. She seemed more fierce and free then Jaime had ever seen her before. Only in the middle of battle had she ever appeared even close to how beautiful as she was now. Still, he had to be certain. “Maege, are you sure of this?”
“I suppose I’m a bit older than you, but I can still push out a child or two.” She shrugged, sending a few strands of hair back into her face. “I can’t promise that we’ll have a love for the ages, but at least you’ll have a friend in me.”
Jaime sighed, but he still couldn’t help but smile. Maege was one of a kind. A she-bear, brave and bold.
Still he couldn’t let her have all the fun. “I suppose you’ll still help me plan the wedding? I admit that I have no idea what to prepare for, except for what happens after the ceremonies are over.” He reached over to her and moved her dark hair back into place with his hand, resting a bit on her cheek. “That part, at least, I can look forward to.” And to his delight, and no small degree of satisfaction after having been on the backfoot for their entire conversation, Jaime watched Maege Mormont’s cheeks turn slightly pink.
Jaime and Maege the year after their wedding (285 AC).
-
The company made it to the Lionfort late in the evening.
The fortress was squat, made out large blocks of the dark grey stone native to the area. Even under the dimming light, one could see that it was ugly and unpolished, with a ramshackle collection of wooden buildings huddled against it. Yet when Jaime caught sight of his banner fluttering in the darkening sky, the white lion on blue and grey, his throat grew thick. Before he could even speak, the gates shuddered open.
His castellan, a red-haired Westerman by the name of Hugh of Kayce, walked out to meet them. “My lord, it is good to see you again,' the man paused for a moment at the sight of Maege, "and y-you as well, Lady Mormont. A hot meal awaits you all inside.” The entire party lurched forward towards the keep at the promise of food.
But as the group moved forward, Hugh moved quietly beside Jaime and whispered, “A small word, if you could, before you eat.” With a nod Jaime dismissed his guards as he followed his castellan. Maege left with the group, looking back once before entering the main hall.
The red-haired man led him to a smaller tower, where the maester of the castle would eventually sit. “Will Lady Mormont be staying long?”, Hugh asked somewhat anxiously. “I can have the servants prepare a special room for her, if it will be more than a week.”
Jaime coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. The castellen and Maege had never seemed to get along. “She’ll be staying, but in a somewhat more permanent fashion. We became betrothed on the road. Several hours ago, in fact.”
A truly interesting series of expressions slid over Hugh’s face, before the man settled on a nervous smile. “M-my congratulations, lord. I will arrange for a room to be set up for her until the wedding, as well rooms for her daughters.”
Jaime chuckled. “What is the news then?”
“A representative from a small iron mining village under your protection has come. He wants to speak with you.” Hugh paused for a second but then asked, “Did you receive any news on Bear Island about the matter we discussed earlier?”
Jaime nodded. “Now that the last of the main construction on the Lionfort has finished, the Citadel is sending us a maester.” Hugh looked truly relieved at that. Jaime chose not to hear his muttered sentence of ‘Thank the seven. I wouldn't be able to keep up with that bear-woman alone.’
The two men climbed the stairs of the tower, finally reaching a small chamber where a short and grubby figure waited. The man looked to be a hill clansman, with a wild and mangled beard. He glanced up at Jaime when he entered, then nodded.
“You the Jim?” His voice was rough, but understandable enough.
“The Jim?”
“The leader. Jaime Lan- What’s-his-face. The Ned put you in place?”
Jaime struggled to keep a straight face. “Yes. That’s me.”
With a jerk the hillman pulled something out from behind his back and threw it on the ground. It was a brown cloth bag, now open, filled with clumps of an umistakable yellow ore.
“We found gold.”
Map of the North at the end of the prologue. Note the position of the Lionfort just to the north of Winterfell.
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Loved the update! Good to see gruff Maege go speechless I'm glad I stumbled across this aar!
I'm glad I stumbled across this aar!
is AAR has been very good so far. I believe you made the right choice by having the in-game events supporting the story, rather than the other way around. It's also nice to see what's happening to Stannis. Many AGOT AARs tend to only focus on the main character, and only others when it relates to him. I hope we get to see more of what else is happening in Westeros.
I generally don't ship, nut I think I just found my new favorite crack pairing (right next to Eurannis).
I generally don't ship, nut I think I just found my new favorite crack pairing (right next to Eurannis).
HONOR BEFORE BLOOD
Super Recap Special
Super Recap Special
To put this overly-long prologue short: There is an unidentified point of divergence in the timeline of ASOIF sometime before the battle of the Trident. At the battle, the Northern forces are hammered hard by Rhaegar’s army, causing more deaths among the Northern nobility. The combined forces of the rebels defeat Rhaegar, with Robert Baratheon landing the killing below on the prince.
Direct Effects:
- Roose Bolton leads a cavalry charge with one of the few groups of Northern horse against the loyalist forces, saving Greatjon Umber in the process.
- As a result, Greatjon attempts to befriend Roose. He succeeds, despite all odds.
- Eddard Stark sees many of the lords he leads die, disillusioning him somewhat with the rebel cause.
- He also observes the effectiveness of Southron knights in combat, who are often better trained and outfitted than Northern horse due to their institutional role in the south.
- The North now requires a large amount of new blood to replace its shattered noble leadership.
This in turn leads to a number of changes that may or may not be related to the battle.
Butterfly Effects:
- Tywin betrays Aerys ‘the Mad King’, sending Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane to kill the royal heirs while he sacks the capital. Unbeknownst to him, after killing Aerys, his son Jaime went to rescue the Targaryen children. He defeats the two knights and their men, staying with the children until the rebel forces under Eddard Stark reach the capital.
- Eddard Stark is aghast at the sacking of King’s Landing by the Lannisters for the rebel cause. Finding out that Jaime saved the Targaryens has a strong effect on him though, also learning of the Mad King’s plan to destroy the city with wildfire.
- After Eddard leaves to rescue his sister, now-King Robert and Tywin reach a deal. Jaime is drugged and the Targaryen children are killed while he is unconscious.
- Due to the brutality of King Robert, the Velaryons remain loyal and secret away the remaining Targaryens.
- Barristan the Bold flees across the Narrow Sea, decrying the usurper.
- Eddard returns to the capital, Jon Snow in tow. He is now thoroughly disillusioned with the rebel cause, but is calmed by Jon Arryn before he does anything rash. He takes the bones of his father and brother, as well as all the other Northern dead, and vows to leave for the North.
Timeline during the Story:
- 283: Jaime confronts his father. After seeing his father’s willingness to murder children to gain power for his house, he rejects his family name. He is unofficially disinherited by Tywin.
- 283: Eddard Stark offers Jaime a place in the North.
- 283: Greatjon Umber, Roose Bolton, and Maege Mormont welcome Jaime as a fellow Northern lord.
- 283: Catelyn Stark (née Tully) joins the Northern forces as they pass through Riverrun. Outrage is made among the Riverlander nobility over the fact that Eddard has already dishonored his wife by siring Jon.
- 283: Catelyn Stark becomes friends with Jaime, who is far more approachable than most of the Northern lords. Especially her husband.
- 283: Tywin Lannister and Robert officially disinherit Jaime from Lannister succession due to his resignation from the Kingsguard.
- 283: Cersei learns of Jaime’s exile. She attempts to revolt against Tywin, but is easily slapped down. She enters into a long period of depression and is soon married to Robert Baratheon.
- 283: Tywin Lannister marries Myranda Royce, in a ceremony some call more extravagant than the King's own wedding.
- 283: Stannis Baratheon marries Vivyen Royce, with Jon Arryn helping him escape from a match with Selyse Florent.
- 283: Stannis is made lord of Dragonstone by Robert. After uprooting the remaining Velaryon forces, he names Davos Seaworth lord of Driftmark. The Velaryons flee to the Free Cities, eventually settling in Volantis.
- 283: The Northern forces reach Winterfell and disperse. Jaime and several other northern lords are put to work, fighting bandits that have arisen during the war. Eddard refuses to allow Benjen to join the Night’s Watch.
- 283: Jaime Lannister is given land near the mountain of Greymont. Work begins on the Lionfort.
- 284: Jaime stays on Bear Island while the Lionfort is constructed.
- 284: Summer is declared.
- 284: Jaime and Maege Mormont are betrothed.
- 284: Gold is found in one of the Greymont iron mines.
- 284: Maege and Jaime marry.
- 285: Citadel notes that Fall is already starting.
- 285: Maege becomes pregnant late in the year.
- 286: Year of the Little Winter. It is commonly seen as the only interruption of the period of known as the Long Summer, which lasts from 284 - 300.
- 286: Book 1 Begins.
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Responses:
brandedelementa: Thanks. I really do see the story as the most important part. My thought process usually tries to take in everything that happens in the game, then tries to force it to make sense within the context of a narrative.
As far as other characters, the main voices right now will be limited to: Jaime, Ned, Stannis, Cersei, and Catelyn. As we go further into the story, more will likely be added.
Also, Eurannis?
Tapscott: Glad that you enjoyed it!
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Things are looking very interesting. Will there be any focus on Tyrion, given how the brother he adores is now in the North and that he is Tywin's heir?
TheAnguishedOne: There will be at least some focus on Tyrion, though keep in mind that no-one in the Seven Kingdoms (aside from himself and Jaime) want him as heir. He might not last long, especially with Tywin remarried.
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Fair enough. I'm rooting for his survival, but I sadly won't be surprised if he doesn't make it. Either way, I'm looking forward to seeing Jaime's success.
Good news everyone!
After tomorrow I will be released from the terrible clutches of having to [1. Apply to Graduate School, 2. Write 40+ Pages of writing for Finals, while at the same time 3. Researching and Writing my Thesis]. As such, I will be posting the next chapter on Friday, December 19th.
And what's more? I'll be posting two more chapters, each spaced another week apart afterwards. So, come back next friday for Jaime, December 26th for Cersei and Catelyn, and January 2nd for Stannis the Mannis.
Happy Holidays everyone!
After tomorrow I will be released from the terrible clutches of having to [1. Apply to Graduate School, 2. Write 40+ Pages of writing for Finals, while at the same time 3. Researching and Writing my Thesis]. As such, I will be posting the next chapter on Friday, December 19th.
And what's more? I'll be posting two more chapters, each spaced another week apart afterwards. So, come back next friday for Jaime, December 26th for Cersei and Catelyn, and January 2nd for Stannis the Mannis.
Happy Holidays everyone!
[Removed, will be posted on the next page due to end of page symptom and time between updates]
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