Blood and Shadows (Game of Thrones)

Sansa

Her time in King's Landing had come to an end. That was something she still had some difficulty truly believing. She had been a prisoner in the capital for two years, though at first she had gone with her father and sister as a willing lady, besotted with Prince Joffrey and the wonders of the south. That had changed once Joffrey had her father's head taken off and mounted on a spike in the Red Keep. That was when she noticed the things that had made Robb and Arya and Jon and Jeyne hate him, things she had been too blind before to see. The cruelty and the sheer hatred that he had for anyone or anything, it was amazing how once the smoke had been lifted from her eyes she saw Joffrey for what he truly was, not the gallant prince of song, but a vile beast from one of the Seven Hells.

Her time in King's Landing had felt like a time in a cage, she was the little bird that the Hound had called her in those early days. She repeated back the courtesies she had been taught as a little girl in Winterfell by Septa Mordane, but that had earnt her nothing more than the Queen's scorn and beatings from the knights of the Kingsguard, men who were supposed to be the noblest knights in the whole realm. Then the Tyrells had come to court, and things had improved slightly. Margaery treated her like a sister, the sister she had always dreamed of having when she had been younger, but such thoughts had only made her feel so guilty and lonely- for there was still no word of Arya- and when Margaery had told her that perhaps she could come to Highgarden with her to meet Margaery's oldest brother Lord Willas, Sansa had been so happy, so relieved that she might finally get the chance to leave King's Landing and the horrors it still held for her, that she had agreed. And yet the Lannisters had foiled that little slither of hope, and had married her off to Lord Tyrion the day before she was meant to go off for Highgarden.

The Tyrells stopped being her friend from that day on. Oh Margaery still spoke with her, but her cousins did not, they looked at Sansa with something akin to scorn, as if Sansa had done something wrong, when in truth she had done nothing more than hope and pray for a way out of King's Landing. Tyrion was not a bad husband, he was kind and gentle and he did not ever try to claim his rights from her, but he was still a Lannister, he was still one of them. Joffrey was still his nephew, and so she could not be free with him, her mask, the mask she had worn for so long by then was kept in place night and day, no release for her, nothing. Then the news had come on raven's wings that her brother and mother had died, had been murdered at her uncle Edmure's wedding by the Freys and the Boltons. She had cried then, truly she had, she had cried until she thought that she might never cry again.

She had been about to give up hope that she would ever see Winterfell again, would ever get to go home ever again, when her cousin Jeyne and her aunt Ashara had come as part of the Dornish retinue to King's Landing. She and Jeyne had been close as children when Jeyne had been in Winterfell, Jeyne liked sewing and needlework and womanly pursuits, but she also had a great adventurous side to her which was at complete odds with her health, and that had endeared her to Robb, and Arya, something that had made Sansa quite jealous toward the end of her cousin's stay in Winterfell, and had made her side with Joffrey when Jon had attacked him. She felt guilty about that now though, especially when she saw how frail of health Jeyne truly was, how she often took ill. Joffrey did not help matters, with his derogatory comments and his advances, all done when not in the company of Margaery, and then there was the time Sansa walked into her room to find Jeyne curled up in a ball crying her eyes out, because Joffrey had done something so entirely inappropriate to her.

Jeyne never spoke of that though, and instead spent her time with Sansa helping her through the daily grind of court and life, and then at night they would sleep together and plan how they would flee from King's Landing. The day of Joffrey's wedding the plans were finalised. Jeyne told her to stay very close to her and aunt Ashara during the wedding feast, and so Sansa did, and just before the pie was served Jeyne began coughing, and of course the Queen had to allow her to go, Sansa following her cousin's leave begged Tyrion to allow her to go and help Jeyne, distracted as he was Tyrion granted her request, and so a few moments later Sansa found herself running through the halls of the Red Keep to the Godswood Jeyne holding her hand and running with her, where they found Ser Arthur- Jeyne's sworn sword- and Ser Mors Gargalen and Aunt Ashara waiting for them. They ran to the docks where a ship bearing the star of House Dayne and the Sun and Spear of House Martell was waiting for them, but before they could get onto the ship Ser Dontos and two other men whom Sansa did not know came barrelling out of the darkness and tried to take her away from Jeyne, but they were allowed no further as Ser Arthur and Ser Mors cut all three men down to ribbons and then helped Sansa and her cousin and her aunt onto the ship and away from King's Landing.

It was later, after they had spent many days on the ship travelling toward Sunspear, that Sansa learnt from a conversation that she and Jeyne overheard that Ser Dontos had been working for Lord Baelish and that those two other men with him had been working for Baelish as well, and that one of the men had before he had been slain confessed that Baelish meant to take Sansa to the Vale with him. Meant to use her as a way to earn the north's allegiance, against the Boltons and Freys for some game that he was playing. She remembered Lord Baelish from some of the occasions she had seen him in court. The man had an unnatural look to him, and his eyes always seemed to be looking for something or the other when he spoke to you, and when he spoke to Sansa, he always remarked on how much like her mother she looked, and that always unnerved her because he would always linger too long on her cheek and hair when he touched her.

Their ship made one stop at Parchments before moving onto Sunspear. And it was there that she and Jeyne were beneath the deck in their rooms exchanging stories and keeping each other company when Ser Arthur and Lady Ashara entered having gone to the mainland to pick up supplies. And it was then that Sansa learnt of Lord Tywin Lannister's death, how he had been killed by Lord Tyrion- his own son- and how there had been fighting up at the Wall between the Night's Watch and the Wildlings and how Stannis Baratheon had come to the Night's Watch aid and then after the battle had legitimised Sansa's cousin Jon and named him Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and how Jon had married Alys- Robb's widow- Ashara spoke with some pride of how Jon was re taking the north from the Ironborn and the Boltons, how he had led the charge that vanquished the Ironborn from Deepwood Motte. Ser Arthur then spoke of how news from King's Landing was of growing disunity between the Queen Regent and the Tyrells, how the Queen Regent was rumoured to becoming more and more paranoid. How Lannister rule on the Iron Throne was slipping.

Later that day as Sansa and Jeyne were walking back to their rooms from dinner they overheard Lady Ashara arguing with someone, a man it appeared for the person she was arguing with had a much deeper voice. Sansa and Jeyne both remained deeply silent and tiptoed closer to the door which was slightly ajar, Sansa all the while feeling guilty for what she was doing, but what she heard shocked her. "You can't be serious Ashara; it's too dangerous for you to go north now. Not with Bolton and Freys still holding Winterfell." That was Ser Arthur's voice.

"Why not Arthur? My son is winning back the north, and avenging his family." Her aunt Ashara replied.

"What of those rumours we heard in Parchments of dragons and the fall of the Slaver cities in the east then? You know there is only one family synonymous with Dragons Ashara."

Ashara snorted. "You can not mean to go chasing a rumour Arthur. Whomever it is freeing the slaves in the east, it is not our concern now. We have more pressing matters to worry about. Jeyne's health is not what it should be and we must keep Sansa safe, we must do."

"You don't understand Ashara, I swore a vow." Ser Arthur replied.

"I know what you swore Arthur. You swore vows to me and Elia too, or have you forgotten?"

"I have not."

"Good. The dragons brought nothing more than trouble for our family. I cannot lose you again Arthur. You couldn't save Elia, but you can still protect our family from the Lannisters, you can help my son and my daughter."

Sansa heard Ser Arthur sigh. "Very well Ashara. I will promise not to lose my head, should the dragons come calling. On my honour as a knight, on my honour as a Dayne, I shall not leave you or our family again."

Sansa had pulled back then and looked at Jeyne with wide eyes, her cousin looked equally shocked. Ser Arthur-whose last name she had never known- was in fact a Dayne, not only that he was Ser Arthur Dayne the legendary Sword of the Morning and Jeyne's uncle! The shock had left them both reeling, and for days afterwards that was all they talked of. Reasons for why Jeyne's uncle could have had for hiding his identity for all these years, and why Sansa's own lord father had always maintained that only he and his friend Lord Howland had come back alive from the Tower of Joy, though the more she thought of it, she realised that her father had never explicitly mentioned what had happened to Ser Arthur Dayne, she had just assumed like the rest of the Seven Kingdoms that the Sword of the Morning had died.

When they arrived in Sunspear, they had been away from King's Landing for near on a month now, and so they were greeted with even more news. According to Princess Arianne who rode to the docks to attend to them, her uncle Prince Oberyn had taken it upon himself to fight for Sansa's husband in a trial by combat against Ser Gregor Clegane, and had come out victorious he had killed Ser Gregor with a deadly poison, but had suffered for his victory, his left eye had been crushed in and he was now blind in that eye. But Princess Arianne said that Dorne and her uncle did not mind much about his broken eye, all they cared for now was that the long awaited justice that they had craved for her aunt and cousins the Princess Elia, and Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon had finally been gotten.

Sansa remembered reading and hearing about Dorne during her lessons in Winterfell, and Sunspear at least seemed to be exactly what she had imagined and more. It seemed like some sort of desert paradise, with sands and a great big castle that was the seat of House Martell, with lots of huts and buildings that made up the summer town. The Dornish people she saw in Sunspear were all tanned and brown of skin and hair, and free with their speech and attitude, though Jeyne told her that there was still a certain level of intrigue that went on in Dorne, it was just harder to see it.

Three days after her arrival in Sunspear, she met Prince Doran for the first time. Jeyne had told her all about Prince Doran, the Prince of Dorne was an old man who suffered from gout, and yet he seemed like a kindly man and there was a certain aura that radiated off him, a certain amount of respect that one just had to pay him. When she met him, he greeted her kindly and offered his sympathies for her losses, and then introduced her to his nieces and youngest son, the Sand Snakes particularly the oldest one Obara reminded Sansa of Arya so much so that she felt something in her chest stir painfully at the thought. Prince Trystane who was betrothed to Princess Myrcella, was a sweet boy although quite shy, he reminded her a little of Bran, and Sansa felt another pang in her chest as she thought of her little brother, dead now, killed by Theon Greyjoy.

Two weeks after her arrival in Sunspear, Prince Oberyn arrived back in Sunspear with his Dornish party and with him he brought, the skull of Gregor Clegane and Lord Willas Tyrell.

Cersei

Seventeen years she had waited, seventeen years of biding her time, and finally she had all the power of the realm in her fingertips. Joffrey, her firstborn and her true lion of a son was dead, murdered by her own imp of a brother, Cersei mourned for Joff, but she could not mourn for long, Tyrion had killed their father as well and Cersei meant to see her imp of a brother's head on a spike before she could rest easy. Of course her father's death had left many holes in the running of the kingdoms. Her father had kept a tight rein on the Kingdoms, ensuring that peace could finally come to Westeros after two years of out and out war, and Cersei meant to ensure that all his hard work did not end up for nought.

Of course she did not meant to delegate the work to anyone, she meant to do it all herself. She had offered the Handship to Jaime- her twin, her other half- but the fool had refused, had spurned her for some foolish honourable cause, and so Cersei had decided to appoint Ser Harys Swyft her uncle Kevan's good father as hand. Ser Harys was a tractable man and one who would do as he was bid without questioning his instructions too much and that was something that Cersei had begun to appreciate greatly as time went on. Her orders to rearm the faith had gone unquestioned, her orders that the Tower of the Hand be burnt down had gone unquestioned. Everything had been running smoothly and then her uncle Kevan had spoken to her as he had been about to leave the city for Darry, and he had told her that he knew the truth of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommem's parentage, and there had been a look of such disgust in his eyes, that she had been momentarily struck dumb, and had even contemplated having Qyburn send a man to kill her uncle before he could do anything with the news.

She had told Jaime this, and her fool of a brother had simply laughed and laughed at her, and told her that their uncle would not act on the news. She supposed looking back on it now, Jaime had been right. Something about their father's death had unmanned Uncle Kevan, he who had been their father's right hand for as long as Cersei could remember, he who had never once flinched from his duty to his brother or to House Lannister, had refused her offer for the Handship and had decided to retreat back to the Rock like a whipped Lion. Her brother Jaime too seemed changed, something must have happened to him during his captivity, for he had lost his fight, his anger all those qualities that had made her love and lust for him during their lives, seemed to have disappeared from him, and now he seemed to be a figment of the man he had been before the war had started. She had sent him off to lift the siege of Riverrun, and Raventree Hall, and so far she knew that Riverrun had now changed hands and was now in the hands of her uncle Emmon and his wife Genna, but there had been no word of Jaime since then.

There had been other goings on in court though which had kept her busy and prevented her from fretting too much about her brother's whereabouts. She had suspected ever since Joffrey had been betrothed to Margaery Tyrell that the girl meant to turn her own sons against her. And so she had employed the use of Qyburn and his whispers and Lady Merryweather to feed her information about Margaery Tyrell and the company she kept, and that had allowed her to plant several rumours into the High Septon- or High Sparrow-'s ear, which had subsequently resulted in Margaery's arrest for adultery and treason. Before that had happened, Cersei had sent Ser Loras and some Tyrell men to Dragonstone to take one of the last strongholds that Stannis Baratheon still had in the south, Mace Tyrell she sent to Storm's End, and the fat fool had been laying siege to it, and having just about as much success as he had had during Robert's Rebellion seventeen years ago. With the Ironborn invading the Reach though, there were some causes for concern but she remembered what her late husband and her late father had both said to her once of the Ironborn. They may raid and plunder to their heart's content but when it came to actual physical battle, they were weak and disorganized and would more than likely spend themselves out before any real threat could be mounted, and besides with Ser Garlan Tyrell leading a force of men to deal with them, they were not like to be causing anymore trouble anytime soon. This also meant that there were fewer roses to infect the court, or at least there had been.

Cersei's plotting and scheming had come back to bite her in the back. The faith had had her arrested for crimes of adultery, treason and other such nonsense. The first two crimes were true, she knew that, she had not spent a night in Robert's bed since their wedding night, all the pleasure she could ever have wanted she had gotten from Jaime, and then when Jaime was away she took advantage of those she knew she could use for political purposes. Robert's death she had also planned with a little help from a boar. But of course no one knew that, no one but wispy little Lancel who had packed himself off to Darry and had become a pious simpering idiot the last she had heard, though it was entirely possible that he had told the new High Septon before he had left about what he had done for Cersei. And of course the High Septon wished for her to confess to all of her crimes, something to which she knew she could not do, for it would mean death and then Tommem would be lost without her, she could not do that not to her sweet little Tommem, so she confessed to some of her crimes, but not all of them, and then to further satisfy the High Septon she went on a penance walk along the streets of King's Landing whilst the smallfolk of the city taunted her and laughed at her. All the while she kept thinking of Tommem and how her son needed her, and how once her innocence was proven she would make all those who had betrayed her pay, she would make the High Septon pay.

Once her walk was done she was kept in custody in the Great Sept of Baelor for some more time, and then her Uncle Kevan eventually came to free her, he had been named Hand during her imprisonment and had been trying to restore any of the damage she had done to their alliance with the Tyrells. He had given the Handship to Lord Mace, who had come blustering and bumbling back from Storm's End leaving a small force still laying siege to it, so that he could have his daughter freed, Lord Tarly had come down from Maidenpool as well and held Margaery in his custody until her trial was done. Dragonstone had fallen to Ser Loras, though the little white knight had taken a severe injury and burning in the taking of the castle, Mace Tyrell had apparently assured her uncle that Storm's End would break and fall soon enough. Her uncle had only told her that much when he had come to see her for dinner the night he had been killed. There was more she was sure of it, more news that he had yet to share with her, news about Stannis and about Jaime, important news, but news which she was certain the Tyrells did not want him telling her about. Her uncle had been found in Grand Maester Pycelle's room with an arrow through his stomach and knife wounds through his chest and arms, he had bled to death, the Grand Maester had met a similar fate, she had heard the septas who attended her whispering the next day, and when Qyburn had come to speak to her of golden rose coins that had been found beside the bodies of the dead.

He had also presented her with her new champion in the trial by combat that she would be going through to prove her innocence, Ser Robert Strong a giant of a man standing close to eight feet tall, in full Kingsguard Armour day in and day out. Qyburn had told her that he would speak a word until her innocence had been proven and as such today was the day of her trial, held before the Tyrell girl's trial, here was where she would be proven innocent.

As such she was led by the septas to the ground where the trial would take place, not anywhere near the Sept of Baelor, no these grounds were where the Tourney of the Hand had taken place when Robert had been king. There was no crowd to witness her innocence be proven, only a few grisly old Septas and Septons and then the High Septon himself, stood in a plain white robe with a simple crown atop his head. He stood forward and spoke. "We are here today in sight of the seven, to witness the trial by battle to prove the innocence of her grace Queen Cersei Baratheon. Should her champion prove victorious all charges against her will be dropped and she will be free to resume her duties. However, should her champion fail and die during the battle, she will face death by the hangman's noose."

Her champion Ser Robert Strong stepped forward then dressed in Kingsguard white his helm atop his head, he bowed low before her before sauntering off to stand ready and waiting for the Faith's champion to approach. The faith's champion soon emerged, wearing nothing more than a simple grey boiled armour and a grey cloak and a helm shaped like the seven pointed star, the Faith's champion did not look anything special. He bowed low before the High Septon and then advanced toward Ser Robert. Cersei's heart started hammering in her chest as she waited for the High Septon to declare the fight started. "Begin." The man said in a clear voice, and so it did.

Ser Robert advanced forward lumbering as he did so, the faith's champion moved backwards and Ser Robert followed. The faith's champion continued moving round and round Ser Robert drawing her champion closer and closer to him, and yet the man made no move to strike, nor did Ser Robert attempt to strike. Just as Cersei was beginning to lose her patience, Ser Robert swung, and he swung true, his sword broke through the man's shield and struck his armour denting it. The faith's champion staggered back from the force of the blow, and Ser Robert followed him. Ser Robert swung once more and struck once again, this time denting the man's shoulder plate. The man staggered back once again. Ser Robert swung and struck true once more, this time he drew blood.

Cersei saw the Faith's champion's blood falling down onto the muddy ground, and waited with baited breath. Ser Robert swung once more, and struck true once again, this time drawing blood from the man's chest and further denting the man's main body of armour. Ser Robert swung once more, and struck true again and again and again, until the faiths champion was on his knees his armour dented and broken in several places, blood pouring out from several wounds and adding to the muddy ground. She could hear the man's heavy breathing from where she was sat; gripping onto the edge of her seat so tightly her knuckles had gone white from the strain.

Ser Robert raised his sword up once more and brought it crashing down, but at the last minute the faith's champion brought his sword up just in time and the sound of steel on steel screeched around the ground. Cersei saw Ser Robert push down harder on his sword, putting his weight behind the weapon, causing the two swords to screech from the contact, the other fighter was straining from the effort Cersei could see, about to break. Then from somewhere the other fighter found the strength to push Ser Robert's sword away from his own, causing Ser Robert to stagger back. The other fighter staggered to his feet, and then began counted attacking Ser Robert, though his swings rarely connected anything other than Ser Robert's sword, the sound of steel on steel sung throughout the yard. Otherwise there was complete silence.

Ser Robert blocked yet another blow from the faith's fighter and then Cersei sat amazed as her champion took one hand off the sword and brought it round to punch the faith's champion in the face, and then in another swift movement brought the same hand back onto his sword hilt and plunged it into the man's armour and then pulled out again, a splatter of blood following his sword as it came out of the man's chest. The man fell to his knees, Cersei's breathing became quicker as she waited in anticipation for the killing blow, the blow that would free her from her captivity.

She saw Ser Robert raise his sword up high into the air ready to bring it crashing down onto the man and end the fight, but just as his sword was coming down, somewhere the man found the reserve to lift his sword up and thrust it quickly into Ser Robert's chest, causing a blueish type substance to pour out from the fresh wound that the strike had opened. Cersei felt her heart enter her throat then as she saw the blueish substance leak out, the faith would not stand for that, whatever that was, but it made no matter for Ser Robert's sword came hurtling down and cut the faith's champion down into two.

There was a moment of silence, and then a great clattering of steel as Ser Robert fell to his knees. Another moment of silence and then the groaning of steel as Ser Robert dropped his sword. Cersei turned to look at Qyburn, only to find that the man was looking at the High Septon intently, Cersei turned and looked at the man as well and saw the flush and the nervousness written plain on his face. She heard him as well as saw him swallow nervously, before he finally spoke. "Queen Cersei's innocence is proven. Her champion has won her fight. She is free to go." Cersei felt relief coil in her stomach then, so much so she almost didn't hear the sound of Ser Robert strong hitting the ground, but when she did she stopped dead in her tracks, her heart hammering something fierce.

Jon Connington

After the Battle of the Bells when Aerys Targaryen had stripped him of his titles and sent him into exile in a mad fit of ingratitude and suspicion, the lands and lordship of Griffin's Roost had remained within House Connington, passing to his cousin Ser Ronald, the man whom Jon had made his castellan when he went to King's Landing to attend Prince Rhaegar. Robert Baratheon had completed the destruction of the griffins after the war. Cousin Ronald was permitted to retain his castle and his head, but he lost his lordship, thereafter being merely the Knight of Griffin's Roost, and nine tenths of his lands were taken from him and parcelled out to neighbour lords who had supported Robert's Claim. It was not Ronald's fault, it was his own. He had lost it all at the Stoney Sept.

Robert Baratheon had been hiding somewhere in the town, wounded and alone. Jon had known that, and he had also known that Robert's head upon a spear would have put an end to the rebellion, then and there. He was young and full of pride. How not? King Aerys had named him Hand and given him an army, and he meant to prove himself worthy of that trust, of Rhaegar's love. He would slay the rebel lord himself and carve a place out for himself in all the histories of the Seven Kingdoms. And so he swept down on Stoney Sept, closed off the town and began a search. His knights went house to house, smashed in every door, peered into every cellar. He had even sent men crawling through the sewers, yet somehow Robert still eluded him. The townsfolk were hiding him. They moved him from one secret bolt hole to the next, always one step ahead of the king's men. The whole town was a nest of traitors. At the end they had the usurper hidden in a brothel. What sort of king was that, who hid behind the skirts of women, and that too when he supposedly fought for a lady love? Yet whilst the search dragged on Eddard Stark and Hoster Tully came down upon the town with a rebel army. Bells and battle followed, and Robert emerged from his brothel with a blade in hand, and almost slew Jon on the steps of the old sept that gave the town its name. Jon had fought back though; he always fought back, and had wounded Hoster Tully and killed Denys Arryn. But they would have lost the battle and the war there and then had he not beat back a retreat to King's Landing. When he arrived back in the capital, the city was in a state of panic. Aerys was angry, very angry, he ranted and raved at Jon and then dismissed him and exiled him.

Before he left though Ser Gerold Hightower the White Bull gave him some coin and a letter bearing word of a spider. Jon looked not at the letter for years, but he drank all the coin away when he heard word of the Trident, he was in Bravos when news came of Rhaegar's death and he drank and whored himself into oblivion. He was in Pentos when news came of the sack of King's Landing, the deaths of Elia Martell and Rhaenys and Aegon. He drank and drank, and then joined the Golden Company, and for five years he had a purpose, he fought and fought his sorrows away. It had been five years into his exile that Ser Myles Toyne, the commander of the Golden Company at the time had told him that there was a letter he needed to read. The letter bore the sigil of a spider, and its contents were writ in the flowery hand of the Spider himself. He wrote of how Jon's silver prince survived on in his true heir, neither Viserys nor Danaerys. And if Jon wished to see his silver prince's son again he must needs travel to Pentos. Of course he could just simply up and leave the Golden Company; no Blackheart first had to find him stealing from the coffers and send him out in disgrace, where as he wondered the lands he drank himself into oblivion. At least that was the tale the Spider would weave for the usurper, in reality Jon had made his way to Pentos where he had come to the manse of one Illyrio Mopatis to find a boy no older than five playing in the house and the boy had looked so much like Rhaegar had that Jon had found his breath momentarily leave his body. That had been the day that Jon Connington head learnt how the Spider had managed to sneak Prince Aegon- King Aegon- out of King's Landing in the dying hours of the rebellion and managed to sneak him to Pentos, to his old friend Illyrio Mopatis, one of the most prominent magisters in Pentos.

They had spent a year in Illyrio's manse allowing Aegon to get accustomed to Jon and then they had ventured out, onto a boat where they had lived for the next twelve years. And then the dwarf had come. Tyrion Lannister with his japes and his gilded tongue, had come and had sussed out who Jon and Aegon truly were within a matter of days of being aboard the Shy Maid, the fool had even gotten himself greyscale, which Jon had just about narrowly avoided giving himself as well according to Lemore. It had been the Imp with his gilded tongue and barbed comments who had made Aegon become more cagey of those he trusted, it had been at the Imp's insistence that they had gone west toward Westeros after picking up the Golden Company in Volon Therys, instead of heading out east to aid Danaerys as had been the plan from the beginning.

Aegon had come to Jon Connington with a red egg with golden flecks and black whorls. The egg had been petrified through the years, had been given as a gift to the boy for his fifth nameday. The egg had remained petrified till one day just before Aegon's sixteenth nameday they had stopped in Volantis, on the cusps of the Red Priest's temples and Aegon had gotten lost within the great temple of Fire, Jon had panicked and panicked then, had feared for this boy who had become a son to him, his last chance of redemption. He need not have worried, Aegon had emerged from the Temple of Fire, scarred and with an eyebrow missing, but with a red dragon perched on his shoulder, a dragon he named Acteon. Acteon had grown and grown in the woods near their boat, Aegon spent a great amount of time, when he was not learning his words and numbers with Haldon and not sparring with Rolly in the woods with Acteon, learning how to train him and master the art of dragon riding. As word came from the east of Danaerys' dragons, Aegon's desire to meet his aunt only increased, but then reality set in. Danaerys was conquering the cities of Slaver's Bay, but it seemed she had no intention of heading west, at least not in the foreseeable future.

And so Aegon had decreed that they set sail for Westeros and so they had. But they had not gone for King's Landing, no the Spider's last report had stated that with Stannis Baratheon stuck in the north, the Stormlands were in disarray. It seemed that the eunuch was right. They had landed on Cape Wrath with 6000 men some still stuck out to sea, that had split into three companies of two thousand men. One company bound for Greenstone that had fallen with ease. Then had come Rain House, that had surrendered without too much of a fight, the days of Ser Willam Wylde and ancient loyalties ran deep. Next had fallen Crow's Nest under the command of Ser Tristan Rivers. Jon had taken command of the company bound for Griffin's Roost, they had found the castle defended by a garrison of old men, needless to say they had taken it with little bloodshed.

Then Aegon had come, and it was like déjà vu for Jon, Aegon held himself in the same way that Prince Rhaegar had. He had the same sort of authority about himself, and he made quite an impression riding on Acteon's back. It was then that Aegon had announced that he had decided that they would march on Storm's End; the Baratheon stronghold was under siege from a meagre Tyrell host under the command of Mathis Rowan. He would lead the attack he stated, riding not on Acteon's back but on a black stallion. Acteon would remain hidden in the woods for later use. As they planned how the attack would go, the last 4,000 members of the Golden Company came to shore and marched for Griffin's Roost. Jon had given instructions to the companies holding Greenstone, Crow's Nest and Rain House that they were to remain stationed there, until further notice. SO these extra 4,000 men were a bonus.

A week after the taking of Griffin's Roost they marched for Storm's End. But they did not fly the Targaryen banner, no in a clever ploy designed by Aegon; the men flew the Baratheon banner to trick the garrison of Storm's End into thinking Stannis had sent aid to them. The plot seemed to work, as the Golden Company engaged with Mathis Rowan's host, the gates of Storm's End opened and out came the garrison of Storm's End swords in hand. Jon lost track of Aegon during the battle, so busy was he hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing, the bells were tolling loudly inside of his head, but still he kept hacking and slashing, staining his sword blood red.

Man after man fell, whether they had the Tyrell arms or the Rowan arms or any other arms belonging to houses from the Reach did not matter if they swung at Jon he cut them down. The ground was slippery with blood and muck and mud, when he came face to face with a big burly man with the golden tree of House Rowan on his armour. The man swung at Jon, he swerved to the side in time and the man's sword whipped past him. Jon dabbed at the man's chest but was blocked by his shield, which also had the golden tree of house Rowan.

Then they brought their swords up together and the clanging of the meeting in the air resounded in Jon's ears, bells began tolling loudly. They broke contact and then swung at each other once more, meeting once again in the air, and the screeching of steel on steel only increasing the tolling of bells in Jon's ears. They broke apart once more, and then Jon thrust his sword into the man's right rib and made contact, denting the armour there and opening a wound, judging by the sound of cracking he heard.

The man grunted, somewhere far away another screamed. Jon blanked the noise out and focussed on the opponent in front of him. He blocked the man's swing, and answered it with one of his own, and the sound of steel connecting with flesh was like music to his ears. He swung again and again until, his sword had dented the man's armour in many places, the man had swung too and had dented Jon's own armour multiple times. Blood was littering the ground and both their swords, and yet they kept fighting.

They ducked and dodged, danced and weaved in between each other, all the while their swords kept clanging together in sync. Steel hit steel and screeched. Steel hit armour and armour dented and blood fell to the ground. Steel hit shield, and shields broke. Around them were a sea of bodies, a mass of human faces and blood, men were grunting, shouting and screaming. Jon heard but did not register, he kept swinging.

And then with one stroke to his opponent's gullet the man was lying on the ground dead, blood pouring from his wounds. Jon Connington stared blankly at the man on the ground, before he realised that men were cheering, cheering and yelling and shouting. He looked around to see the bodies of Rowan and Tyrell soldiers littering the ground as well as a few men with the Baratheon Stag on their armour and a few from the Golden Company. He stopped one man who was near him and asked him what had happened.

The man stopped and looked at him as if he were mad. "We won milord. King Aegon has taken Storm's End." The man smiled, whooped and then moved on. It took Jon a moment to process what the man had said, they had won, and Storm's End was theirs.

Later that night Jon found himself in the Great Hall of Storm's End, still not quite believing where he was or what had happened. Next to him Aegon sat and laughed and drank and ate with his men and threw pieces of food out of the window to Acteon, much to his men's amusement. Jon looked up from his plate when the talking stopped and saw Aegon had gotten to his feet.

He saw his King smile a winning smile at the men, and then he spoke in a iron baritone that reminded Jon so much of Rhaegar he nearly shivered from it. "My friends, we have Storm's End. Let the boy king and the Lannisters know that we are here and we mean to take back King's Landing and the Iron Throne!" the answering cheer was deathly loud. Aegon continued. "We are not done yet, I will have my maester Haldon write to the Stormlords and have them come here to swear me fealty. And I would name my Lord Connington, the new Lord of Storm's End and Hand of the King." The cheer in response to that was three times as loud. The bells were quiet, but time was standing still for Jon Connington.