III.VIII. JON




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JON


They were about to break their fast when Myriah got summoned by the Targaryen Queen, leaving her son and husband under the supervision of Edrick's septa, who kept a closer eye on Jon than on the little boy. Therefore Edrick was yet again running wild until his father gave him a light rebuke, which only made him squeeze out as many tears as possible, trying to arise Jon's pity, but the King remained unyielding. After his unspeakable behavior at the breakfast table, Jon had little patience left to deal with the prince any further. Because that's what he was, a sweet but spoiled little Prince.


Of course, the first thing Myriah did upon her return was to pull the boy into her arms and shower him with kisses. Still, she seemed lost in her thoughts. She sat down on his lap in silence and took his hand, her fingers tracing along the lines on his palm. Whatever words had been spoken between her and Daenerys appeared to trouble her ever so.


"Do you intend to tell me what caused your weary head or am I a fool to ask?" Jon smirked as he put his arm around her even closer.


Myriah shut her eyes for a second and smiled a wry smile. "Daenerys is dangerously close to her doom. Her Ironborn allies got attacked on their way to Dorne. It is said that Euron Greyjoy burned most of their fleet down and that the number of survivors seems to rather low. Few ships managed to escape, but not the important one."


Her explanation made little sense to him since he had no clue what their initial intentions in Dorne were. To be honest, Jon had not the faintest notion of Myriah's politics at all. "And what does that mean for you?"


"For us, it means that Daenerys will soon approach us, trying to strengthen the bond between our houses. Her offer will surely be more beneficial to us than the previous ones - should we consider those as offers." She hesitated. "For me, it is yet another source of conflict. Three of my cousins were on board, and Ellaria Sand as well. If they are not dead yet, then they will be soon. I ought to tell Elia."


"Did you mean to put them to justice?" Jon asked, realizing of whom she was talking about, "After what they've done?"


"I did, but then I didn't. Now I'm unsure if I should feel relieved for not having to justify myself in front of my bannermen or if I should grieve for the loss of yet any more family members."


When Jon had heard that Doran and Trystane Martell had been murdered by their own blood and that it was up to Myriah to decide over their fate, he had not wished to trade places with her. Now, it seemed to have worsened. "Wouldn't you have grieved over their loss either way? At least now their death is not on you." He attempted to cheer her up. Though he had supposed that her treacherous cousins meant only little to her,  Myriah's face displayed more sorrow than expected. He kissed her cheek. "Why was the Iron Fleet on its way to Dorne again?"


"I promised Daenerys nine thousand men in return of allowing me to sent the other thirty-five thousand north without interfering. She intended to besiege King's Landing with a force of her Westerosi supporters." Myriah explained with a sigh, then she rolled her eyes. "But nine thousand men are about nine thousand more than I want to give her at the moment."


Jon chuckled. "And it's about nine thousand more than we can afford to give her. If you can truly get over forty thousand men to fight in the North, well then..."


"You'd be forever in my debt? As strange as it might sound to you, Jon, but you are the Prince Consort to Dorne." She mused, but he thought it to sound far stranger.


Jon Snow, King in the North and Prince Consort to Dorne were three titles so contradictory that it might break ones head to think about how he, as a baseborn, came to bear them.


Myriah gave him a long and tender kiss before she rose from her seat on his lap, still holding his hand. "We best get to work, my Love. My advisors will be here shortly and we ought to present them an agreeable solution for the situation which will soon come up in Dorne."


And by the time Elia Sand and Ser Humfrey arrived with his squire in tow, his wife had planned her next moves, all of them to Jon's approval. It seemed as though ruling came natural to her as Myriah was more considered than she had ever been in her life, and she was determined to do what was right for the good of her people. Or their people, as she liked to refer to them.


From his usual seat in the great chair on the head of the table, Jon watched his wife move around the chamber so gracefully, in her shimmering surcoat of indigo and silver brocade, dark locks flowing down her back, and he heard her talk in such commanding yet encouraging manner which only confirmed his opinion of her.


"As your Princess, I order you to return to Sunspear tomorrow and prepare for the war to come." She said, taking her cousin's hand after she had just broken the news of her mother's and sisters' misfortune to her.


Jon had grown up hearing stories about Elia, though he had often doubted that there was any truth in them. Now, that he had met the Dornish bastard, he had to realize that he was wrong. Elia surely knew how to swing the fine blade she carried and she wouldn't hesitate to do so. She looked fierce in her sandsilk breeches and leather bodice, yet nonetheless pretty, in a common way. Somehow, she reminded him of his little sister Arya.


"But as you cousin," Myriah continued, more softly now, "who adores you very much, I advise you to go home and be with your younger sisters. You must be there for them now."


The girl pursed her lip "Will Daenerys take revenge?" was the cold question Myriah got in return. "Because if she doesn't, then I will."


"And where has vengeance gotten us so far?" The Princess spoke firmly. "Only more of us dead. Their day of reckoning will come soon enough, sweet cousin, I can assure that much. No, right now, I need you to keep a clear head." She sent a look at Jon, showing him that it was his turn to speak.


"Upon your return to Dorne, you and Ser Humfrey shall start with the armament of your men immediately." He told them anxiously since Ser Humfrey's annoying smirk confused him. "Make sure to send the first ones ready north, on a ship or on horseback, doesn't matter. We have to expect the Army of the Dead at any time, so the more you send, the greater is our chance of victory."


Myriah nodded and took over again. "Both, you and Humfrey will be my first commanders in this war, whilst I'll give special commanding status to Houses Toland, Dayne and Yronwood. It is vital for them to be prepared for the cold weather and any attacks from the Lannisters or Euron Greyjoy. They need to bring enough provisions and pray night and day that they make it to Winterfell safely."


"Unfortunately, I must urge you to bring your own supplies not only for the journey but also for the stay as we're barely able to provide it for our own men." Whenever Jon spoke to them, Myriah's advisors would narrow their brows or frown, and often not even look at him, but he ignored their reactions the best he could. "I shall write to Howland Reed to see you safely through the Neck and send another raven to my sister to find men who will accompany you from Moat Cailin and White Harbor to Winterfell."


"Elia, you know Dorne and its people well. I trust you to handle my bannermen until my return, confide in Ricasso and Ser Manfrey, but remind them that they give counsel, not commands." The two Dornish women gave each other a slight chuckle. "Set up guards at the Boneway and command every fortress to prepare for a siege, in case our enemies intend to strike at us with our armies absent. Dorne has remained unconquered since Nymeria, and I intend to keep it that way."


At that, Jon believed to have seen a faint spark in Elia's eyes. "I shall do as required."


Myriah placed a hand on her shoulder, then pulled her in an embrace. "I know you will." She sighed.  "Tell Obella that I've forgiven her and that she's free to return home. I will write as soon as I have any news, and promise you will do the same." And Elia could only nod.


And then, the Queen turned to Ser Humfrey, who seemed to have lost his bothersome smile, yet his expression was far from serious. "Are we not supporting Daenerys Targaryen any longer?"


"Our thoughts and prayers are with her." She answered quickly. "My dear friend, I remember you were in need of a wife?" Despite the sweet smirk she gave him, Humfrey Hightower only tilted his head curiously and even Jon wondered what his wife was trying to point out. "Choose a willing one, though I doubt you'd find many of them amongst the Dornish. My wedding gift to you will be very generous, make sure your Lord Father's will be as well. A ship perhaps, or two."


"The thought of being a married man on your return does frighten me." He replied, winking at her.


Jon thought Hightower to be the most aggravating, indecent man he has ever met in his life. The way he had entered the room, swinging Edrick up into the air, making squirm and squeal with joy had already been enough for Jon to hit the ceiling, but when he had greeted Myriah with a peck on her cheek, Jon had wanted to knock out some of his shiny white teeth. That man was wicked, and the King could not wait to see him off without bidding him farewell, because Jon truly did not wish him to fare well.


"When you go on board tomorrow, we will be there," Myriah told them. "I don't want to delay you any longer, you ought to pack."


Elia squeezed her cousin's hand one last time, and with a sorrowful look she bowed to Jon and excused herself. She left the door to their chamber open, expecting Ser Humfrey to follow soon.


"I was wondering if I might take Edrick for one last walk?" The knight asked, eyes on the little boy who had continuously begged his young squire to play with him. "We won't see each other for a long time and I'll sure miss him."


Myriah smiled before she looked at her husband, who had shaken his head had his clenched jaw not stiffened his neck. "Very well, but not for long. We will have our luncheon soon." And she hurried off to fetch her son a cloak. Meanwhile, Humfrey gave Jon a self-satisfied grin, but Myriah was back before either of them could say a word.


Edrick took the Reachman's hand willingly after he had given his mother a kiss, and skipped away with him in a now jolly mood. The sight of that made Jon's stomach twist. When Myriah heard him sigh, she put an arm around him, leaning her head on his shoulder.


They heard footsteps and realized that Ser Humfrey's squire still hasn't left the chamber. The boy was pale and shaking, and about to go, but stopped, his hand on the door handle. "I... Forgive me, your Grace, I am so very sorry." He stammered, glaring at Jon.


"There is no need to worry." He assured him.  "What's your mind?"


Leyton Hightower turned even whiter, much to their surprise for neither of them thought that to be possible. "Is it true that you've seen the White Walkers, your Grace? Beyond the Wall?"


At that question, Jon felt a little shiver. Observing the look on the boy's face, he wished he could tell him anything but the truth. "Aye, I've seen 'em."


"And what about their footmen?"


"You go take a walk as well." Jon ignored his question. There was no point scaring the boy to death. "Edrick must be missing you already."


"Your Grace," The lad stumbled backward out of the chamber as he bowed, closing the door behind him.


King and Queen were alone again, sharing a deep embrace. The end of their meeting had been like a punch to the stomach for Jon, coming from House Hightower. Now, the squire was not to blame, really, he was but a frightful child, whilst his uncle was like a fly in his soup - even with him gone, he had already spoiled something for Jon.


"I can tell they don't like me." He told his wife after she had kissed the spot right below his ear and let go of him.


"I suppose I should say that they'll come around, but they won't. At least not in the near future." Myriah shrugged and walked over to a little table on which a flagon and two cups stood. "Wine?"


"It's not yet midday, my Love."


She shrugged again, then poured a cup for herself. "An Arbor Gold. Are you sure you don't want one?" But Jon only shook his head. "Suit yourself."


He watched her settle down in a cushioned chair in front of the fireplace before he joined her, leaning his arm on the backrest of her seat. "Why is it they don't like me? After all, they don't know me."


"They know that you are my husband. If it were up to Elia, then I shouldn't have married at all. She sees you as a distraction. In her case, it's the thought of you that she dislikes. Humfrey, on the other hand, would have preferred it if I had married him. So yes, he doesn't like you." Her answer rolled off her tongue so easily, almost as she had just explained him the way to the closest inn.


"But would you have taken him if I hadn't asked for your hand?" Jon asked. He remembered her talking about the Hightowers and a possible marriage offer.


She turned around in her chair, looking up at him softly. "Then I still would have had Robard and Rickard. You would have become King in the North anyway and Edrick would have been the thorn in your flesh. You would have needed an army..." She hesitated, her hand now caressing his cheek. "And by the Gods, I wouldn't have given up on you without putting up a fight. Not until you've taken another woman for your wife, or mayhaps not even then."


And Jon knew that this was all he should have wanted and needed to hear if it wasn't for his own damned jealousy. He just couldn't stand that rat sneaking around his Queen. "Why did you bring him then?"


"Because I owe him and his family." She sneered. "They kept silence about Edrick, they raised him in secret when I couldn't. In King's Landing, Humfrey could have earned himself quite a great amount of gold and favors by revealing my hiding place to the Lannisters, and he never does anything if he doesn't profit from it. Edrick is obviously mad about him and inviting him to my court is a great step towards a better connection between Dornishmen and Reachmen."


Myriah got quiet and she swallowed the rest of her wine at once. Then she stood, playing nervously with the cup in her hands until eventually, she sat it down on the table. Seeing her like that made Jon nervous as well. She was about to tell him something he didn't like to hear, but it was too late to turn back now. Jon had brought that on himself.


"I ought to tell you something." Myriah stared at the floor for a while before she managed to look into his eyes. "I never intended to keep it from you nor would I have lied had you only asked me about it. Now, you must suspect what I am about to tell you but know that it has nothing to do with him being here now."


Jon took a deep breath as she made her break. "You and Hightower." He mumbled. A part of him must have known that there had been something between them. The bond between them must have been born out of a short-lived love affair, he assumed, passionate enough for them to hold onto a friendship after their parting. Why else would Myriah had talked about him so casually before she and Jon had gotten together? Why else would Humfrey have cared for Edrick?


"It was one night in the capital and believe me when I say that I feel nothing but shame about it." Her lips were shaking. "I never meant to burden you with it, my Love, I merely thought it best that you heard it from me."


"Aye," Jon could only say. The truth was half as bad as he had expected but still upsetting enough. Yet, it seemed like he had to swallow this fly.


The main part of his luncheon Jon ate in silence, smiling wryly whenever his wife sent worried looks at him. It would have been much easier on him had Edrick not gone on and on about his walk with his Uncle in Aegon's Gardens. It really wasn't up to him to judge, yet Jon could not help but mislike Hightower's place in both Myriah's court and his heir's life.


He had enough time to be vexed about all of that during Edrick's nap, which his mama took with him. Once she had lulled him to sleep, she had struggled to keep her eyes open.


"Forgive me, but I'm still sore from last night." She had mumbled when Jon had stepped closer to the huge bed where they had curled up under the furs.


Little wonder Edrick was spoiled. The lad only needed to slightly quiver his lower lip to make Myriah grow soft. Seeing them together always made Jon wonder what his own mother would have been like. Would she have taken naps with him? Would she have sung him lullabies and told him stories, or would she have sent the septa to put him to bed as Lady Catelyn did with his brothers and sisters? Would she have done and said all the silly things to keep him entertained like Myriah did with Edrick, or would she just have paraded him around whenever it befitted her as most highborn ladies did?


All his life he had been wondering whether she had died in childbed or lived, if she was lowborn and unable to raise him, or if she was highborn and didn't want to. A few years ago, he would have given everything to know the answer to his questions, but now, he wasn't even sure if he wanted his father's secret revealed. Who knows what the truth might cost him? What he had at the moment was enough for him, his three strapping boys and his beautiful wife to raise them with him.


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Despite his frustration and restless mind, Jon silently forgave Myriah for what she had done years ago, knowing that he wasn't in the place to forgive her. That same afternoon, the king took Edrick to the training yard, where he could run wild again and prove his combat skills to Jon. All that happened under Myriah's watchful eyes, who was in such a serene state from seeing the two of them together.


"Kneel, Father." The lad commanded, pointing his wooded sword at him. "Imma make you a knight."


Jon glanced at his wife puzzled, who grinned widely. "Such honor is not to be refused, my Love." She told him. And so Jon did what was expected of him and knelt down, now on the same eye level as Edrick.


"I knight you... Sword of the Morning." He said in all seriousness, his sword gently touching Jon's shoulder. "You stand beside me? Now and always?"


"Now and always." Jon chuckled. It was the same game he and Robb used to play as children. No doubt that Robard and Rickard would soon be playing it too.


Happily, Edrick danced toward his mother, who had interrupted her needlework and stared up at the castle walls, coldly. Jon followed her glare to an empty window. "What was that?" He asked, searching for the reason for her change of mood.


"We were being watched." Myriah murmured, giving him a worried, almost scared look. "There was someone watching us. I didn't see a face, only a shadow, but someone was there."


It seemed to have been a shock for her to be observed so closely because Myriah never lost another word about her plans for Dorne or the North for the rest of the day. She acted as though she had thought them to be safe at Dragonstone and was disappointed that her beliefs had been crushed. Now, Jon had little knowledge of how the minds of Southerners' worked, yet he had never expected them to be trusted. When he told Myriah just that after they had gone to bed, she had only snapped at him.


"Don't you think I know that? I wasn't blinded by the words your father taught us. I know these people better than you do, Jon. And besides, I am a Southerner myself, does that mean you don't trust me?" She turned away from him, pulling the covers up to her chin.


And Jon sat in the bed, feeling just as ashamed as Myriah wanted him to feel. "I tend to forget that." He admitted, getting a growl in return. "And I don't think you would harm me or my family. After all, my family is your family as well."


"You can probably imagine that I would do anything to keep them out of harm's way," Myriah said solemnly after she had turned back around to him. "Anything that is necessary."


He sunk into his pillow. "Of course I know that," Jon assured her by giving her a long kiss.


Somehow, he managed to lighten her mood so that her frown was gone by sunrise. It was still very early when King and Queen went to the shore to see of Lady Elia and Hightower. On their way down, Edrick had fallen asleep in his mother's arms and had gotten a little sulky when they woke him again.


Myriah gave her cousin a hug and some more encouraging words, and when she turned to Humfrey, the knight was on and about to kiss her cheek again. Jon interfered by pulling his hand into a strong handshake. "I hope your search for a wife turns out to be satisfactory, Ser, mine certainly did." He gave him a bothersome smile.


"My Lord," Humfrey replied with a frozen grin and nodded curtly.


"Such formalities," Jon chuckled, "you may address me with Your Grace."


Hightower squinted at him before he said his farewells to Edrick, who had not a clue of what was going on. Once Myriah had told him that Humfrey and Leyton were both leaving and Edrick was staying, all hell was let loose. By the time they got on the boat to take them to their ship, Edrick's tears had run dry and he was desperately gasping for air.


Jon's hearing was deafened and it broke his heart to see him yelping like a puppy in his mother's embrace. So he put his arm around the two of them, stroking Edrick's reddish-brown curls.


"I do hope you are doing the right thing." He mumbled into Myriah's ear, staring at the ship in the distance.


"So am I, my Love, so am I."


"I must say I'm rather disappointed," a voice came from behind them. "Now I've walked down all those steps only to find out that the real Humfrey Hightower has gotten on that boat." They surely were astonished to see that Tyrion Lannister had joined them. "A very good morning to you."


"Oh, it's too late for that now." Myriah hissed at him like a furious cat. "And we were just about to leave."


Lord Tyrion only smiled at her. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so the saying goes, your Highness. I am your friend, and I meant to wish you a very good morning."


"Don't expect me to return the wish, 'cause that would be dishonest."


"I've never taken you as a dishonest person. You've always seemed very outright to me." He told her, then his eyes wandered over to Jon.


"Then you won't mind if we take our leave." The Queen said before Tyrion had a chance to speak with him. "Jon?" She asked, already heading towards the stairway.


"I'll stay a little longer, my Love." He wanted to add "If you don't mind", but that would have been unnecessary because he knew that she did mind. His wife gave him a blank look, placing Edrick on her hip with one hand whilst she gathered her skirts with the other, then she strode off.


The Lannister turned his head to watch her leave, just like Jon did. "I must say you surprise me." Now, he was smiling again. "Myriah Martell is quite a woman, truly, yet I'd never imagined the two of you to match."


Jon shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not answering.


"Or my eyes are failing me and you married her for a kingdom or two." Tyrion furrowed his brow at his silence.


"Why did you come here, Tyrion?" Jon asked, tiredly. "If your Queen wanted to treat with us, then she should have sent someone other than you. Myriah despises the Lannisters, every single one of them."


"And us Lannisters know that better than anyone else." He replied, turning his face towards the sea. "I was... taking a walk thinking about my recent failures, then I saw you and a ship. Had my assumption been proven right that you swapped places with Ser Humfrey Hightower, then I would have gotten myself in a situation which I couldn't escape with wits and charm."


Jon scowled. So there was no treaty like Myriah had promised.


"Now, I cannot count on your wife, but I'd like to think us old friends. And surely friends can talk about something less tiring than politics. Do you love our darling Sun of Dorne?"


More than anything in this world, except for our sons, he meant to say but he knew that Myriah would prefer it if he said those words to her and no one else. "You serve a queen that wants me on my knees. I would be mad to discuss my deepest desires with you."


By the look on his face, Jon could tell that Tyrion couldn't make much of these words. So the Hand of the Queen changed to another topic. "You don't seem to have much trouble kneeling."


And it took Jon a second to understand what he had said. "Was it you watching us yesterday?"


"Unfortunately for you, it wasn't me." He shrugged. "But news travels fast south of the Neck, and especially fast on Dragonstone."


"Then how come no one knew of my marriage to Myriah? How come no one knows about the Night King and his army?" Jon sighed uneasily at the thought of them. "They're coming. They're coming for us all."


"Why don't you figure out what to do about my missing fleet and murdered allies, and I'll figure out what to do about your walking dead men."


His jest did not seem that unreasonable to Jon. Mayhaps there was still a chance for a contract. Had Myriah been around he might have urged her to propose a new alliance with Daenerys. But his wife was already in their chamber, internally raging against him, and Jon couldn't treat for Dorne on her behalf.


When Jon caught the expression on Tyrion's face, he remembered that he had only meant his words to be a bad joke. "You don't believe me anyway."


"I do, actually." He stated, to his surprise.


"Then you'll understand that I need to help prepare my people for what's coming. I can't help them from here." Jon looked at the ship in the distance. "You said it yourself, I'm not to leave."


Tyrion shook his head in disappointment. "It seems unlikely that you became King in the North by giving up that easily."


"Everyone told me to learn from my father's mistakes. Don't go south. Don't answer a summons from the Mad King's daughter, a foreign invader." And there he was, revealing his thoughts to his enemy's Hand. "My own wife thinks me a fool for coming here, and that's what I am, a Northern fool."


"Children are not their fathers, luckily for all of us. And sometimes there's more to foreign invaders and Northern fools than meets the eye." He gave Jon yet another glimmer of hope, but then he went on about his queen, telling him the same stories he had already heard.


The King in the North listened less and less attentively, but still, he caught every word.


"Daenerys is not about to head north to fight an enemy she's never seen on the word of a man she doesn't know. After a single meeting, it's not a reasonable thing to ask." Tyrion's ending was indeed a setback to his expectations.


Jon rolled his eyes subtly, then nodded before heading in the same direction Myriah had gone.


"So, do you have anything reasonable to ask?" He called after him. Slowly, Jon turned around, giving him a questioning look. "I'm asking if there's something I can do to help you."


Dragonglass, Jon immediately thought. Just like that, Lord Tyrion's proposition seemed even better than anything Myriah had planned.



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You've probably been waiting for this update for over a month, but meanwhile our baby cat murdered my hamster in cold blood and all that on Christmas Eve. So #RIPinpeace little Oscar Wilde.


I struggled so hard writing this chapter, I have like 4 different versions of it. This is the best one so I hope you like it. I'd say it's less emotional than the last one and I'm only getting started!!! Still, Joriah is a pretty good team.


Hopefully you think it was worth waiting for. You have no idea how happy your feedback makes me.


- Elisabeth

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