#wherever they went jon still has a fucking knife in him

[pinkravat-art]

domesticity somewhere else

i missed them ok

[annes-andromeda]

GOT Virtues AU: My Wolf, My Moon

N/: Another chapter! More Jon x Ygritte! Jon comes back from the dead and makes up with Ygritte. While also finding out something unbelievable... Also sorry if it’s so long, but these two make me feel things.

Edit 11/14/19: Jons real name has been changed from Aegon to Aemon as it’s getting irritating to tell him apart from Elias son, also Aegon.

Nothing. That was all that Jon felt. His eyes were screwed shut, his heart had stopped, but his mind was in a different place. A different world, it seemed. The blades went so deep into his chest, they left gashes that looked as if someone tried to scoop him out.

He couldn’t hear anyone speaking; nor Davos, Tormund or Edd. But he could feel. Jon could feel Ghost’s snout brush against his hand. How much he longed to touch his soul, to tell him that he was alive. But he couldn’t, for his body was still and his mind was lost.

Jon thought how he’d never see the Starks again. He’d never see feisty Arya, or sweet Sansa, or little Rickon. He didn’t know whether Robb was alive or not, and last he heard, Bran had woken from his fall. But now, he’d never see them. He had died in the hands of his brothers, men he thought he could trust.

And then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A warm hand, with slender fingers and the gentlest of touches. It felt like the hand of a woman.

Ygritte, he thought

The wildling had asked to be alone with Jon, and she sat just above his head so that she was staring him down.

Jon could feel her wet tears fall on his cheek, and her forehead against his own. How he wished he could open his eyes to see her beautiful, red hair and her soft, pink lips. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her warmth... and to say he was sorry.

Sorry for leaving her, sorry for just ignoring her instead of just talking to her. Gods, why did he ignore her?

This was his punishment. A fate the gods had planned for him. To be betrayed by his brothers, and left for dead while his beloved suffers. Perhaps he was never meant to help the people. They’d never know his name, his deeds, nor his sacrifices. And they wouldn’t care either. He was a bastard in their eyes, someone never destined for greatness or glory.

To think, he once was to rule over these people. But it was just how Lord Arryn said: make one mistake, and they won’t be as kind. He could imagine their faces when they’d find out about the Wildlings choosing to follow him.

Perhaps the boy in him was still present. Perhaps Jon Snow was never meant to become a man, and instead always be that naive, ignorant boy hidden away in the Red Keep. Yes. Maybe it was best the Seven Kingdoms didn’t have another dragon ruling their land. A mere babe dragon, at that. He was no dragon. Dragons who breathed fire of cold were not real dragons. His wings had been cut off, and scales were instead born fur. What were meant to be eyes of molten gold, were but pools of blood that stirred in the winter snow.

More over, dragons wouldn’t fall for a mere fox. Was that what his beloved was? A fox? Perhaps so. She was swift and cunning like one, and her gorgeous mane could charm any of them. After all, she had succeeded in charming a wolf. Or is he a dragon? Either way, her methods were victorious. The red fox was truly beautiful, as breathtaking as the clear waters in Tarth. The way her hair rippled like embers, and the simplest touches could almost burn the tips of your fingers.

Jon could see her. In all the dark clouding his mind, he could see Ygritte’s hair shine as brightly as the morning sun. It’s as if his mind was being pulled from, wherever he was, and back into the miserable, wondrous state of reality. He wanted to pull back, to tell these invisible forces to stop their pursuit and leave him for dead. But then again, he’d return to his beloved. The red fox who had wooed the Targaryen Wolf and the White Dragon. This beautiful vixen who had captured his heart, and whose radiance had made her nearly untouchable to any other suitor who wished to steal her. For the wolf would guard her, and mark her as his. She was his woman; the moon he would howl to every night and the fox who would hunt those who would dare harm him.

He would see her again. But if only that were the first thing he’d see. Never did he expect to return to the Onionman and the Red Woman.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Jon almost jolted off the table, his breath coming in short and his head practically spinning. His chest was heavy, and he was trying to remember how to breath again. He looked around the room and towards Davos, his face depicting shock and disbelief. Jon breathed heavily, his chest heaving and the air coming out of his mouth instead of his nose.

He heard Ghost whine, his red eyes glowing in the dim room. The direwolf’s fur almost looked like it was shining a bright essence. Ghost nearly covered the whole room, and Jon wondered how he go into the room in the first place.

Jon looked down, and he nearly fainted right there and then. His chest was covered in deep scars, all still red but not gashing. Jon couldn’t even touch them. His heart thumped, and he breathed harder. He scattered off the table, and stumbled on his own feet. Davos grabbed him before he could fall, and wrapped his cloak around Jon’s figure. Jon sat down on a chair Davos pulled for him, trying to catch his breath. Melisandre had entered the room, her eyes widening in the presence of Jon alive.

“What do you remember?” Davos asked

Jon responded in faint breaths “They stabbed me” The memories hit him like a club “Olly...he put a knife in my heart...” He remembered the pains in his chest when his brothers stabbed him, and how it all stopped when Olly came forward

“I shouldn’t be here” Jon looked up to Davos, his silver eyes glistening with the need to know. To know why he had returned from the grave.

“The lady brought you back” Davos said

Melisandre kneeled before him “Afterwards, after they stabbed you, after you died, where did you go? What did you see?”

Jon hesitated, his voice trembling “Nothing. There was nothing at all” It was the truth. Despite his thoughts, Jon’s mind was clouded with darkness, with only the iridescent glow of his woman’s hair to guide him.

“The Lord let you come back for a reason. Stannis was not the Prince Who Was Promised, but someone has to be” Melisandre mused “You’re not going to die now, Aemon Targaryen. The Gods are not done with you yet”

Jon thought for a moment. Was that why he had returned? The Gods had more plans for him? What more could they possibly want?

“Could you give us a moment?” Davos said to Melisandre. She got up and left the room, with Davos closing the door behind her.

Davos picked up a stool and sat in front of Jon “You were dead. And now you’re not. That’s completely fucking mad, seems to me. I can only imagine how it seems to you”

Jon looked up to Davos “Ygritte...” he said faintly “I felt her before. Where is she, Davos? I need to see her. Is she alright? Is she hurt? Has someone harmed her?”

Davos put his hand up to silence Jon “The lass is alright. However, something has happened. And I don’t believe you’d be too pleased to hear so”

“What is it?” Jon asked. Whatever has happened, he wished to know terribly.

Davos took a second to remember everything with Melisandre and Ygritte, and the visions in the fire “The wildling girl, it seems, has gotten with child. Your child, that is”

Jon’s breath hitched in his throat. Pregnant? Oh Gods, no, no....

“She seems to be in good health” Davos continued “But the Red Woman says that they will be dragons in a sea of wolves. Whatever that means, one thing is for certain. She has more than one babe in her”

More than one?!, Jon thought, That day, in the cave... Is that where it happened? Is has to be, I haven’t bed her since...

“But she’s alright?” Jon asked. He never wanted a bastard, but that didn’t mean he never thought of having children of his own. He didn’t want the child to go through what he had to for half of his life. But this was the worst time for this to happen.

“Yes, she’s alright” Davos said “However, this seems like a conversation reserved for the two of you. It’s not my right to meddle in things that are of no business of mine”

Jon nodded in agreement. He was definitely speaking to Ygritte after this. But for now, at this very moment, he had to let everything sink “I did what I thought was right. And I got murdered for it. And now I’m back. Why?”

“I don’t know” Davos mused “Maybe we’ll never know. What does it matter? You go on. You fight for as long as you can. You clean up as much of the shit as you can”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly “I don’t know how to do that. I thought I did, but...I failed”

Davos raised an eyebrow, and looked at Jon sincerely “Good. Now go fail again”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Jon had walked out into the courtyard, his brothers and the Wildlings staring at him in awe. To them, he was a walking corpse; the man who returned from the dead. A God, as Tormund said. Jon reassured him that he was far from a God.

“I know that” Tormund had whispered, “I saw your pecker. What kind of god would have a pecker that small?”

Jon chuckled at that. He then went on to embrace Edd, his fellow brother. Even he seemed to stare at Jon as if he were a fallen angel of some sorts.

“Your eyes are still brown. Is that still you in there?” Edd asked

“Silver” Jon said, “They’re still and always will be silver. Hold off on burning my body for now”

Edd chuckled. “That’s funny. You sure that’s still you in there?”

As much as Jon had wanted to be with his brothers, and to make sure the Wildlings were safe, he needed to sort things with Ygritte. To hear of such news, and from Davos at that. She should have told him herself.

He knocked on the door to her quarters, and heard a faint ‘come in’. Jon opened the door to see Ygritte sitting on the edge of her bed. In her hands she held Longclaw, and her fingers fidgeted with the pummel. She turned to see Jon still standing at the door, and her breath hitched. Jon walked towards her, and she got up slowly from the bed. He embraced her fiercely, and she could only wrap her arms around his waist as Jon cradled her head. Jon kissed her cheek lightly, and released from the embrace to look at his love. He caressed her face with his thumb, and sighed deeply.

“Is this real?” Ygritte said, her voice trembling with uncertainty “A-Are you real?”

“Aye” Jon responded in a slight whisper “I’m here, love” He moved his hands from her waist to her belly, caressing it lightly. The bump was beginning to form, and even though he couldn’t hear it, Jon could feel the life growing inside of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked softly

Ygritte stared at him, her eyes filled with an emotion Jon couldn’t quite place. Was it regret? Uncertainty? Sorrow?

“I didn’t think you be too pleased” Ygritte sighed, as she sat on the bed once more “You spoke ‘bout how you didn’t want a bastard. I figured you’d probably throw a fit or stay silent”

Jon sat beside her, and reached out to hold her hand “If you’re still upset with me for leaving you, I understand. You have every right to be. I shouldn’t have ignored you and make you feel worse than you already did” He kissed her hand, like the lords would do to their ladies “I thought of you” he said after, and Ygritte’s eyes glimmered “Even in death, you were still in my thoughts”

Ygritte pulled away “You were wrong to leave me” she said sternly “And you were wrong to love me”. Jon hung his head, but was then brought up by Ygritte’s hands. The same soft hands he had felt beyond the grave.

“But you loved me anyways”

Jon leaned into her, and he pressed his lips against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she deepened the kiss. They parted, and pressed their foreheads together, breathing in each other’s scents. It had far too long since either of them had been in each other’s presence.

“You’re mine” Jon whispered “As I as yours. You are my woman, and I swear to all the Gods, I will never abandon nor betray you again. You have my word” He caressed her midsection once more. He smiled faintly. He wasn’t going to loose this. One of his greatest fears had come to light, but yet, he felt content. Like any lord would feel in finding they would soon be a father.

“The Red Woman,” Ygritte said “She spoke about a battle to come, and that I must take no part in it. That’s the only way they’d survive” She motioned to her belly, and she held worry in her voice. Pregnancies were already difficult with one child, but with more would be far more disastrous.

“We’ll figure it out” Jon reassured her, as he placed a kiss on her forehead “Together”

She nodded “Together” And they kissed once more. Let the Gods play their games, Jon thought. Let them use me as their pawn, but I’ll not loose this. I will not loose my love.

And I will not loose my children.

[queenofairandsnarkness]

we spoke of many things

one.

Rhaenys Targaryen, Princess of Summerhall, Eldest Child of the Silver Harper, Rhae Too-Sharp, Future Hand, and all-around busybody, was making herself useful.

In this situation, it involved bringing in a large jug of wine, cups, and a water flask.

“Father will have kittens,” she said, before collapsing on the armchair Jon had vacated. To help her place everything on the table.

He shot her a look, and she shrugged.

“Your cousin is the one who is causing this mess,” she said. “I brought honey tarts, they are...” She frowned, before pulling a slightly squashed sack from under her overskirt. “Here.” She also pulled an orange from... wherever she stashed the little knife Nymeria gave her for her tenth nameday, most likely. The nuts in the honey tarts tended to make her throat close up, so Jon didn’t offer to share.

“It isn’t her fault,” Jon said, absently. “Arya said Sansa loves lemon tarts, by the way.”

Aegon’s head perked up from his nest, dark blonde hair looking a bit like a bird’s nest. “I can get those. That is doable, Arianne said the shipments were going to be fine, and Mother loves them as well.”

“That’s sorted, now let’s deal with the fact that you and Sansa are matches,” Rhaenys said. “Which is a slightly larger issue, I must admit. Right now, no one else knows, but all it takes is one gossiping maid or irritated soul who wants to ally you to their family.”

“Sansa is a Lord Paramount’s daughter,” Aegon said, thoughtfully. He was making a small gesture that summoned a breeze, ruffling his hair and rustling the notes on the floor. “And closely related to two more. It would be... it could be useful, I think?”

Oh, dear, Rhaenys thought. Their parents were matched, and despite the Lyanna debacle, the King relied heavily on his Sun Queen in matters of diplomacy and daily court life. That being said, it was commonly suspected that they weren’t actually romantically matched, as rare as that was. Hence the Lyanna affair, and why Lady Ashara was never far from Mother’s side.

Somehow, Aegon never did seem to believe that. Her brother was prone to seeing nothing but the good in life.

She kept herself from fiddling with the collar of her gown and said, “It might work,” she said. “Father hasn’t actually approved any betrothals, aside from Viserys and Lady Shyra.”

And that had been because Lady Shyra was deeply in need of a spouse who could withstand her cousin, heir, and nightmare, Ser Sebastian.

Rhaenys was aware of the whispers about her own lack of a betrothal. Edmure Tully had been suggested, but he was far too... shallow and irresponsible. Which was a pity, because she deeply suspected the Riverlands would be... interesting in a few years. Highgarden was also out, both because Father wasn’t cruel enough to send her to live with Lady Olenna and because Lord Willas was fucking her uncle and aunt. Mother and Grandmother refused the Greyjoy idea, and Rhaenys had flatly refused Lord Tyrion (who had been terribly drunk, and she knew what Lord Tywin had done with his last gooddaughter, thanks to Varys), and the young Lord of the Vale. (Who was too arrogant and vain for anyone’s good, and he’d most likely not survive her cousins’ first visit.)

Most everyone else was too young, of too little consequence, or...

Well.

Jon, of course, was going to marry... some heiress who needed a strong sword hand and a refreshing lack of male pride. Or the Kingsguard, since he was actually very skilled with a blade and couldn’t speak to a lady without making a misstep.

Terribly.

Dany would most likely wed Baelor Hightower’s elder son, a lad who squired for Ser Uncle Lewyn and adored tales of valor and fairness as much as she did. Sarella suggested that the two would most likely open schools for smallfolk and try to send girls to the Citadel.

Aegon, however...

Well. There had been Lady Myrielle, who was Tywin Lannister’s niece, sharp and poisonous and surprisingly witty. Lady Margaery and her pack of cousins, which Aegon had told Father would not happen until they stopped trying to insult Mother and Rhaenys. (”My family is not a flaw to be forgiven, especially when the members in question did nothing to deserve it.”)

Lady Shireen, who was far too young, Lady Asha, who was brilliant but would hate court life, Brienne, who was so terribly unhappy that Rhaenys could not bring herself to regret her cousin marrying the second son of Lord Blackwood. Lady Allyria, who was rather too much like Mother for the court to easily accept. Lady Roslin Frey, sister to the lord of Rosby, which would cause too many problems.

Lady Jeyne Westerling had been an idea. The girl was sweet and inoffensive, clever and supportive. She had come to court to be one of Rhaenys’ companions, and if it wasn’t for the way the girl blushed whenever the Stark heir looked at her, it might have worked.

(Also, if Lady Westerling was suddenly and forcibly sent to the lands beyond Shivering Seas.)

There were still more girls hungry to be Princess of Dragonstone. And matches did not always equal a marriage. How could they, when you didn’t know who your match was until you touched? There were rare occasions when it worked- her parents, in a way, Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna, her uncle Oberyn and Ellaria, Lord and Lady Stark.

But there was also Grandmother Rhaella and Ser Bonifer, who were kept apart until Grandfather the King died.

“It would be a good way to show the kingdom that the Rebellion is in the past,” Rhaenys said, thoughtfully. “And reassure the southern kingdoms that the North and its allies will not try to rise for Jon.”

“I don’t want that to happen,” Jon Waters hit his head against the back of the dresser. “I really don’t. Rhae, pass the wine? I’m going to have to speak with Varys again when this comes out.”

“Better than Uncle Oberyn,” Aegon said. “And I don’t even know if Sansa will want to marry me.”

“She’s a sweet, innocent girl brought to the glamorous court, finds out her soul is paired with the Crown Prince, who is the sort of lad who cannot refuse a damsel in distress- which, I may add, meant that you once got a bloody crossbow bolt in your royal bum, and son of the glorious and kind Sun Queen, from which all charity flows,” Rhaenys said dryly. “Not to mention her fondness for songs, which I know after meeting her a week ago. I was tempted to send her to Arianne and keep her away from the vipers at court, but do you know what?”

“What?” Aegon said, grinning. “That she charms them all? That she has an uncanny ability to remember details? Rumors are already spreading that she’s the Maiden Incarnate? That she’s the opposite of...” He stopped. “Sorry, Jon.”

“It’s fine,” Jon said. “You stopped. And it’s... a little true.”

“You get your song, Aegon,” Rhaenys said, pouring herself a glass.

“Can’t think of anyone who deserves it more,” Jon said, shooting her a look.

She kicked him.

two.

Aegon was laughing.

He should have expected this. Jon had the worst luck, sometimes.

But really, Jon visiting the Wall was not a terrible idea. (And if he happened to take vows... Aegon would miss his brother, but it would also be a lot easier for everyone. Besides, his brother could summon ice with a thought. He wouldn’t mind the cold.)

When Jon went missing, Rhaenys’ hands had twisted over the letter until her knuckles went pale and the parchment was set to tear.

Thankfully, Jon was found within two weeks, and the king didn’t have to deal with his prickly eldest running North to find him. (There had been a small group willing to go North- Lady Jeyne, who was remarkably loyal to Rhaenys and also probably wishing to see Aegon’s soon-to-be goodbrother, Lady Lily Evans, daughter of a small keep in the Riverlands and as headstrong as Cousin Arianne, Nym, who didn’t trust Rhaenys not to forget her own safety, Lady Myri, who he wouldn’t mind going far away, and Ser Arys and Ser Oswell, who were sworn to protect the royal family. Ser Arys was also fairly dim and could be easily talked into anything. No one mentioned this to the King, though Mother was amused.)

There had been a wildling girl who Jon had dragged south, and who was staring at everything in surprise.

“Poor girl,” Sansa said, adjusting her curls. “Everyone is going to judge her, and she’s not dressed for the weather. You’d have thought that Jon would have gotten her something in White Harbor or Gullstown.” She looked again. “Or perhaps she threatened him for making her feel uncomfortable.”

Aegon thought about it. The wildling girl, whose hair was a brighter red then Sansa’s, was not a conventional beauty, not like Sansa or Arianne or even Lady Myrielle. Nor was she the arresting type that people said Rhaenys was.

But there was a definite spirit in her face, and Aegon was shocked to see his brother smiling at something she said.

Jon looking comfortable talking to a girl not Rhae, Dany, or his cousins was strange.

“Don’t the wildlings refuse to bow?” he said, suddenly. Sansa stopped walking, big blue eyes widening further.

“That,” she said, “might pose a problem. But I suspect that is why your mother insisted on the family meeting her privately.”

“This is true,” he said.

Even with his nerves over this, he still had to laugh when he saw the words scrawled over the tops of Jon’s shoulders.

“Did she really threaten to put an arrow...” he trailed off at Jon’s embarrassed look.

“Yes,” he said. Then he paused. “Should I be worried that Yrgitte is with Rhae and Dany right now?”

Aegon raised an eyebrow. “Rhaenys already knows how to use a bow, though Grandmother might be irritated if Dany suddenly starts threatening her admirers.”

Jon shrugged. “Well, if she has to threaten them in wildling fashion, then clearly the guards aren’t doing their jobs.”

This... was probably true.

three.

Jon suspected that Rhaenys had actually met her match years before. It explained how she was able to deal with both of her younger sibling's courtships, Viserys’ marriage, and the betrothal of Dany and the Hightower boy without bitterness. Not to mention Lady Jeyne finally heading north to marry Robb.

(Ygritte and Myrielle, in a strange and terrifying way, had combined their talents to help terrorize the nobles out of being too overtly nasty about Rhaenys being unmarried. It had been the catalyst for Ygritte’s acceptance into the family.

“She doesn’t act like one of the fancy folk who are all frills and fuss,” Ygritte shrugged. “She likes pretty silk dresses and that stitchwork, but the work is nice and she’s kind.” Ygritte grinned. “Tongue like a dagger when she’s mad, though.”)

“Who could it be, though?” Dany asked. They’d settled in the Godswood, which was rarely inhabited. Cool, since winter was coming in, but pleasant enough for now. “It isn’t one of the people she turned down, I think.”

“No, she and Theon Greyjoy never actually met,” Jon agreed. “And Grandmother would have pushed for it if it was one of the others.”

“Perhaps Asha Greyjoy?” Dany said. “Or Lady Myrielle? They are terribly close, and it would explain why she never pushed to marry.”

“She’d marry Lord Renly and they’d take their lovers with them everywhere,” Jon pointed out.

“She loathes Renly,” Dany protested. “Lady Lily is happily wed, and Quentyn is marrying the girl from Dorne... Andrey Dalt, perhaps? She thinks that he’s one of the most sensible people she’s ever met, and she doesn’t compliment people lightly.” Dany beamed. “Actually, Rhaegar might approve of the match, with the rest of us marrying so.”

“He was thinking about offering for Strongboar,” Jon said glumly. “I think he wants to tie down the West somehow.”

Dany blinked. “There are maidens who would be happy to marry him,” she said, voice very reasonable in a way that made the hairs on the back of Jon’s neck rise, “Rhaenys is not one of them. They’d be miserable, and surely Rhaegar realizes that.”

“He’s also debating releasing Ser Jaime from his vows,” Jon added, remembering the way his sister’s lips had thinned and her chin went up, “If he marries Rhaenys.”

“Ser Jaime doesn’t want to be released from his vows,” Dany protested. “He’s the one who keeps saying the Kingsguard serve for life! He’d hate Rhae because of this!”

“I know,” Jon said, settling back against the weirwood. “But I don’t have a plan except for finding someone Rhae would like. Humphrey Hightower would be a plan, except Father would never agree.”

“Are we merely going to go through every possible lordling in the Seven Kingdoms?” she said. “I know my brother doesn’t want Rhaenys to leave, which caused half the problem. Perhaps asking Rhaenys would be the best...” She trailed off. If Rhaenys was refusing to step forward with a name, then they wouldn’t convince her.

There was a rustling in the wood, and Dany grinned and climbed a tree, disappearing in a flash of grey skirts and pale braid. Jon hid behind the trunk.

“Sirius,” said Rhaenys, sounding... well, sounding sad and sweet, “correct me if I’m wrong, but our original reasons for not pushing for a marriage still stand?”

“Yes,” said the heir to Stargazer Keep, and Jon looked around the tree to see him, arm around Rhaenys’ waist, “but that was before you were named Princess of Summerhall and your father decided to make you fair game for every fortune hunter in the kingdoms.” He barked a laugh. “Or do you forget that hedge knight who tried to ride you and Lily down a moon ago?”

“I shot him,” Rhaenys protested, and how did Jon never hear about this?

“You also had to heal where he stabbed you,” Sirius pointed out. “If Moony and James hadn’t been there...”

“I’m fine,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And I’m slightly more worried about you being summoned home to find some purely Andal girl waiting in a sept and your mother holding a sword to your back.”

“So I won’t go home,” he said. “Easily done, since I was already planning on that.”

“Do you really think Father would give permission?” she said.

“I could promise to give up rights to Stargazer and merely be your husband and sword arm,” Sirius said. “As I’ve already said, I really don’t want to go back. Reg loves the place more than I could, anyway.”

“Summerhall is still under construction,” she said, biting her lip. “We’d be at court for long periods of time.”

“Makes it easier to see everyone,” he countered. “Also, to be fair, I’m fairly certain your mother prefers me to fucking Strongboar.”

She laughed. “This is true. I’ll talk to him, then. He’ll be more likely to listen if I speak to him first.” She shot him an amused look. “You’ll likely lose your temper.”

They kept walking, eventually out of earshot.

Dany dropped from the tree, looking pole-axed. “Did that really just happen?”

“Yeah,” Jon said, faintly. “You land alright?”

“A bruise, perhaps, nothing to go to... Rhaenys about,” Dany said, biting her lip before giggling. “Not that I’d want to speak to her about how that happened. Wasn’t Sirius Ser Arthur’s squire?”

Jon nodded. He’d been wildly jealous, even if Sirius was three years older and Jon was too young to learn how to use a sword. “He was always with James Potter, who was always shadowing Lily, so they must have found out then.”

“And never told anyone?” Dany frowned. “The Blacks are Marcher lords, correct?”

Jon nodded. “It was why everyone was surprised he got along with James,” Jon added, trying to remember. “Since the Potters are Dornish.”

“Should we tell Aegon?” Dany asked.

Jon shook his head, trying not to smile. “No, I think he can wait.”

This was going to be interesting.