A/N: Thank you for all your support and comments. I really appreciate the feedback and knowing that people are enjoying the story. Here's a nice long chapter for you. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones and make no money from the writing of this fiction.

Chapter 11

It had been two weeks since he'd left King's Landing, heading north up the King's Road by foot and spending the occasional day at taverns, eating his fill and drinking a bit too. Gendry had never been out of the city, but he knew enough to keep to himself as much as possible, especially with the soldiers riding up and down the road, searching for Ned Stark. Whenever he heard the noisy clang of their armor and hooves of their horses, he ducked off the road and into the trees for cover. And he wasn't the only one.

He frequently found himself hiding alongside other travelers and poor unfortunates who had their homes burned by the more unscrupulous of Lannister men. As he traveled further north, the destruction was becoming worse, as the people were being punished for being northerners. Gendry wondered where the northern army was, for they certainly were nowhere along the King's Road. The rumors in the taverns were that Robb Stark was in the Riverlands.

Gendry had no idea why he left on the word of the Dornishman standing on his doorstep that night. It was a feeling inside of him that he couldn't ignore. And when he heard the news of Ned Stark's escape that morning, he had gathered up his few belongings and took to the cliffs. He knew he needed answers as to why not just one, but two Hands had taken an interest in him, first Jon Arryn and then Ned Stark. And if Ned Stark was heading to Winterfell too, then perhaps he could finally have clarity.

Now he found himself trudging along through the forest running parallel to the King's Road, the sounds of a sizable band of soldiers echoing off the trees around him. They were making camp along the road and Gendry knew he had to go deeper into the woods in order to go around them safely. He crossed a shallow stream, stopping to fill his water skein, his stomach growling for food. It had been two days since his last decent meal at a tavern and he knew it may be two more as he had no hope of finding an establishment this far off the road. He had never had to hunt for his food before. He had never left the city before and now he found himself a bit worried that his sense of direction was terrible as well, especially at night.

He wanted to lay down and sleep the night off, but he feared that some in the camp would come foraging out this far to hunt, so he trudged on. He hiked for what seemed like hours, crawling over falling trees, the ground getting more and more wet and slushy. Mud oozed up around his boots, pulling and tugging at them. The night was filled with the songs of frogs and crickets, becoming almost deafening as one hour passed into the next. Gendry kept hoping the mud would end and he'd get to more solid ground at any moment, but it seemed to go on and on with no respite.

The last thing he remembered was a different kind of whistle piercing the night, the hard slap of something hitting his head from behind. Then the night was silent.

OOOOOO

Ned had waited most of the day at the edge of the bog. He knew the lookouts had seen him, he remembered the way it was done. It had rained all day and he did his best to stay dry in the big cloak that hid his features. This was a secluded spot, a dangerous one. He knew the soldiers would never venture this deep in to find him. The last fifteen days since he had made land had been days of avoiding people, even ones that might have supported him. He knew that many would spill all their secrets under threat or torture. But this place he knew would be safe. Everyone knew the dangers and stayed away.

Ned knew the exact tree to wait under. And by late afternoon a canoe approached with two people in it – a man and a girl, no older than his Sansa.

The girl stood holding a fishing spear and looking him over with suspicion. When they were close enough, she called out. "Who are you?"

"Ned Stark," he answered honestly.

Her eyes widened a bit and she looked him over more carefully. She stepped out of the canoe and came closer. "I'm Meera Reed, my Lord, daughter of Howland Reed."

"I'm honored, my Lady," Ned replied. "I would like to meet with your father. We are old friends."

"I know this," Meera nodded. "I have heard all the stories. We knew you would come. My brother Jojen is a seer. Come, Lord Stark, I will take you to my father."

Ned nodded and followed her to the canoe. He had been only once to Greywater Watch, very long ago, back when it's current Lord, Howland Reed, was a mere boy. Since that day at the Tower of Joy when Lyanna had died, Howland had retreated to his home, never to venture forth again. Howland had taken Lyanna's death hard, and upon learning that she had went willingly with Rhaegar, and that all the death the resulting wars had wrought were for not, he had lost heart. He did not want to serve Robert. He did not want to serve anyone anymore. Ned knew that feeling. After the war, he too had lost heart. In his own way, he had retreated to Winterfell and immersed himself in family. Though he still had to serve Robert as Warden of the North, he was far enough away from King's Landing to feel as if he was not part of them. He did so as long as he could, until Robert had come to fetch him after fourteen years.

"Is it true? Is King Robert dead?" Meera asked as they glided along.

"Aye, it's true," Ned replied, looking about.

The old Gods were still respected here at the Greywater. Everywhere Ned looked he could see their faces watching them pass. Ned began to feel a little bit of comfort as they paddled further and further into the swamplands. The ancient trees seemed to reach out to Ned, lending him comfort and strength after all the running and hiding he had been doing the past three weeks. Here, among his Gods, he was safe. He took in a deep breath and let it out as the peace surrounding him held him like the arms of a mother.

They began to pass the floating homes of the Crannogmen who came out to watch as Meera escorted Ned toward the great house of the Greywater.

Soon Ned spotted a pier on which a man stood, long of hair and bearded. Despite being older and hairier, Ned recognized his old friend. When the three of them had stepped onto the pier, Howland bowed to Ned. "My Lord, welcome to Greywater Watch." They embraced arms and Howland led Ned inside. "You have met my daughter, Meera, Lord Stark. And here is my son, Jojen." He indicated a young boy about eleven summers.

"Lord Stark," Jojen bowed.

"You have a fine family, Lord Reed, and I thank you for your hospitality in my time need," Ned replied.

"We know of Robert's death and of the wars for the crown," Howland said. "Dangerous times have come again. But we are prepared here at the Greywater. No Lannister army will pass through."

Ned nodded. "They will go around. The reputation of the Greywater frightens foe and friend alike. But I've not come to ask you to join the war, only to remain my true and loyal friend."

"You need not ask for that which you already have," Howland replied. "Come, my friend, you will rest as long as you need."

Ned stayed as their guest for two nights, resting and eating, getting stronger for the journey he must finish. He sat with Howland many an hour, speaking of old times and new. Howland did not ask of Jon and Ned wondered if it was because of his children and household staff listening. Ned had appreciated Howland's secrecy that he swore to Ned when they were together on that fateful day. Though Ned wondered at the son, this Jojen, who they said was a seer. Did he already know? Each Ned met Jojen's eyes, they reminded him of the eyes of the old Gods, eyes that saw everything, everywhere.

On the second morning as he prepared to leave, Jojen approached Ned and stood nearby. "Lord Stark, do you know a Gendry?"

Ned faced him, startled. "I do," he said cautiously.

"Come with me," Jojen waved, beginning to walk away. Ned followed him down narrow wooden paths suspended over the water until they came to a place where a man lay in a net, dangling from a tree limb. "We found him getting too close to the Greywater. My father thinks he was a spy looking for you, since he seems southern. But I have seen something different about him. He says he was on his way to Winterfell at your invitation."

The boy in the net turned his head and stared at Ned. Then he sat up straighter as best he could. "Lord Stark? Is that really you?"

"Aye, it tis," Ned replied. "I'm gladdened to see you took my advice."

"I'd rather be back in my shop, than here," Gendry replied. "Have you come to rescue me? I cannot eat one more frog served to me on a pointy stick."

"I just found out you were here," Ned replied. "Be glad that you were fed at all."

Gendry nodded with a wry grin. "Can I come down now?"

Ned looked at Jojen in question and the boy nodded, walking over to the trunk of the tree and releasing the knot. Gendry fell into the swamp and struggled to get out of the opening in the net. Then he swam to the wooden walkway where Ned and Jojen stood, pulling himself out of the water.

"Is Winterfell nearby?" Gendry asked, squeezing the water out of his shirt. "I seemed to have lost my direction."

"We still have a journey ahead of us," Ned replied. "What weapons can you use?"

Gendry shook his head. "I made weapons, but never had a need to use them. I suppose I can hit things with a hammer hard enough."

"Meera and I will come with you to Winterfell too, Lord Stark," Jojen announced. "I need to speak with your son, Bran."

"I am being pursued. Bringing a group of children along is dangerous for all concerned," Ned replied. "Your father needs you here, Jojen."

"My sight can be useful, Lord Stark. I can see when enemies approach before they are upon us," Jojen countered, "and Meera is an excellent hunter. My father already knows of us leaving with you. He may not care to be involved in this world, Lord Stark, but my sister and I must do our part."

OOOOO

They had traveled the better part of the day before Gendry began asking Ned questions. Ned knew the boy would eventually get to it. He was pleasantly surprised at how hearty Meera and Jojen proved to be. They were watchful and quiet and, ever so often, Jojen would stop and close his eyes before announcing the path was safe for travel. At midafternoon, Jojen had advised them to not cross over a farmer's land or there would be trouble. Ned didn't know what to make of the boy, but he would humor him for now. At least until there was real danger involved. Why Howland would let his children walk with Ned into such danger, he could not fathom.

"Lord Stark," Gendry began as they trudge along, "I need to know why you warned me. What danger was I in? And why did you and Jon Arryn take such an interest in me?"

"Jon Arryn had discovered the truth and he was killed to keep his silence. When I came to King's Landing, I needed to find out what secret he had died for. When I found it, I was betrayed and charged with treason. I would have been dead by now if I hadn't been rescued."

"What truth was it? And what does it have to do with me?" Gendry asked.

Ned gave him a side long glance. "The truth is, Cersei's children do not belong to Robert. There are Ser Jaime Lannister's bastards. They have no right to the throne."

"Her brother? She lays with her brother?"

"Aye, she does. I should have never confronted her about it. I didn't realize the depths she would go keep the crown in Lannister hands. That was my mistake."

"And your visit to me?"

"It's no secret Robert drank and laid with different women. He has multiple bastards and each one of them has dark hair. Even when the woman had light colored hair, his bastards had dark. And you…, there is no mistaking you. I knew Robert at your age. You look exactly like he did."

Gendry stopped walking, shocked by Ned's revelation. Meera and Jojen, who had been quietly listening in, stopped as well. Jojen shut his eyes as if seeing everything in his mind.

"I'm the King's bastard?" Gendry finally asked. Jojen and Meera then looked to one another.

Ned nodded. "Jon Arryn knew it when he saw you, and so did I."

Gendry's feet began to move again slowly as his mind struggled to catch up with this news. He was a royal bastard?

"And that puts me in danger? Why?"

"There is a battle for the crown right now. When power shifts to a new family, what do you imagine they do to any offspring of the previous King? What did Tywin Lannister do the Targaryen children when they lost their kingdom?"

"Why would they care about a bastard? I cannot inherit anything."

Ned looked him over before gazing North. "We linger too long. Let us continue before it gets dark."

Ned would say no more as they walk. Gendry's mind was filled with the new revelation about himself.

At nightfall, they made a small camp away from the trail. Meera and Jojen had left to gather small sticks and brush for the fire. When they were away from the other two, Jojen said, "Lord Stark lied to him."

"What?" Meera asked. Ned Stark was not known to be a liar. But neither was her brother.

"He's not a bastard," Jojen replied. "I see this Meera. I see it. He's a prince. The Queen got rid of him. She told the King he died, but he didn't. She couldn't kill him, her own child, so she gave him to a woman in a tavern whose baby died. She switched the babies."

"Why would she do that?"

"Hatred for her husband King. She wanted to give him sorrow for not loving her no matter how hard she tried."

"She is very cruel," Meera replied. She sighed and ran a hand over her eyes, thinking. "You cannot say a word about this to anyone, Jojen. Swear you will not say a word? Besides, maybe Lord Stark didn't know about the Queen. It could not be a lie if he did not know."

"If he doesn't know, then we should tell him. The throne belongs…"

Meera waved a hand in his face, cutting him off. "Shush now," she hissed, leaning closer. "You know who Ned Stark would have on the throne, and it is not Gendry."

"He would have a prince working the forge of Winterfell, so he could see his sister's son on the throne?" Jojen frowned.

Meera shook a finger at her brother. "He would make right the mistakes of the past. Robert should have never been King and Ned Stark knows this. Why would he put Robert's son on the throne over his own blood? Over the rightful heir? No, Jojen, do not speak of this again. It is kindness enough that he keeps Gendry alive."

Jojen bent to pick up some kindling and then met his sister's worried gaze. "Very well, Meera," he sighed. "I will not say anything. Besides, the Gods have already chosen our king. They have sent their sign." He looked up and Meera followed his gaze to the sky. "The age of dragons has returned and with it comes the age of magic. The ancient song will rise from the earth and with it all the things we believed were myth."

A fiery red streak shown dark against the twilight sky.

OOOOOO

Jon stood on a balcony, looking up at the strange red streak that filled the sky. Everyone at court had been talking about it, pointing. The royal artists were drawing and painting its likeness. Watching it gave Jon a strange feeling inside. A servant came by with a jar of wine, refilling Jon's glass. Behind him a court reception was being held and a banquet for some guests who had arrived from Essos. Many had seemed quite different than any he had met before.

There was a woman, Lady Quaithe of the Shadow Lands, that hid her face under a mask of small golden platelets. Trystane had whispered to Jon earlier that she had the gift of sight. Jon had never met anyone who had claimed to have those powers before, so he kept his distance. But, now, distracted by the sign in the sky, he did not see her come next to him until she spoke.

"It is glorious, is it not?" she asked.

"It is, my Lady," Jon replied.

"I am Quaithe, your Grace," she bowed. "And I have traveled far to finally meet you."

Jon sucked in a breath and held it a moment. He glanced furtively about, making sure no one heard. "How would you know of me?" he asked in a low voice.

"I see much and your birth had been foretold very long ago, before anyone here was born," she replied. She looked to the sky. "The sign is for you, your Grace. It is the beginning of a new era you bring to all the lands. The magic in your blood, the magic of ancient ones, more ancient than the first men and the Gods of Old Valyria. The time of dragons has returned. May I touch you?"

She had turned her eyes, the only visible part of her face to Jon. He didn't know what to make of this request, but he didn't want to be rude either. He nodded once.

She stepped closer and place her hands reverently on either side of his face, staring into his eyes as if she were reading his soul. After a few moments, her eyes began to water and the tears that fell were hidden on her masked cheeks. She lowered her hands to his hands and brought them both up to her heart, bowing her head. "I am forever your servant, your Grace."

"I hope I do not disappoint you, my Lady," Jon replied, unsure what to say to this strange woman and hoping no one was witnessing the deference he was being paid by her.

She raised her eyes to his again. "You will not."

He bowed his head slightly to her and then released her hands. "Enjoy your evening, Lady Quaithe," he said, turning to go inside. But before he could take two steps he saw that there were three other guests from Essos on their knees with their heads bowed in front of him. This was all too much. He turned his head about until he saw Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan standing nearby, observing it all. Ser Barristan didn't seem shocked at all. Ser Arthur grinned and saluted Jon with his wine glass, knowing his nephew was getting flustered by the attention. Jon shook his head and strode past them and back into the banquet hall.

OOOOOO

It had been a month since Jon had returned from King's Landing and it was obvious that something was changing inside of him. His 'dragon dreams', as Arya had called them, were becoming more frequent. He didn't even have to be fully asleep for them to happen. It seemed that at moments he would close his eyes to rest, or listen to Arianne play the harp, and he would feel as if he were flying. He began to accept that this was just part of being Targaryen, strange as it was.

Sansa and Arya had adjusted to their new lives with ease. Lady Ashara had introduced them in court as her 'cousins'. Every morning they would wash their hair with henna to darken before they went outside the family quarters. Sansa quickly grew to love Lady Ashara as she dressed her in beautiful Dornish fashions and gave her council on all manner of things. Arya, however, did not care about fashion or looking beautiful. She followed Jon and Harran to the training grounds every morning and was relentless in her determination to learn to fight. And though she was supposed to be Lady Carella, the Sand Snakes fondly nick-named her Little Wolf because she fought so viciously. She was younger than everyone in the group and Jon stood ever ready to defend her if needed. But he found that everyone treated her like a little sister and assisted her desire to learn.

Jon had thought for certain there would be some sort of punishment from the Princes of Dorne for taking their children with him on a dangerous mission, but surprisingly Trystane had convinced his father that it was the most exciting time of his life. Doran knew what it was like to be so sheltered that you were not allowed much adventure. With his gout, he knew what it was like to have limits. And because Trystane was so happy and proud of their success, Doran had decided to forgive Jon with a promise that he'd never involve Trystane in something so dangerous again.

Yet, Jon also felt that despite their ire, he had earned a degree of their respect. And with the addition of Ser Barristan to his guard, and his success in rescuing the Starks, the Princes of Dorne began to see that there was indeed something more to Jon.

Trystane and Sansa took daily walks together and Jon knew the attraction was growing every day. Sansa would also come to watch the training sessions at times, but it proved to be a big distraction for Trystane who was always trying to show off for her. They smiled at one another flirtatiously and Jon would have to laugh when Arya would roll her eyes and say a few choice words under her breath about her sister's romance.

Trystane had confided in Jon that he had spoken with his father about asking Lord Stark for a contract of betrothal.

"What did he say?" Jon asked.

"He agreed it would be a strong match as it would ally us with the North. But we cannot announce anything publicly until Dorne has officially entered the war," Trystane explained. "I think she would be happy here, don't you?"

"She already seems happy here," Jon agreed.

But all that hopeful anticipation for Trystane and Sansa seemed to have disappeared with the announcement that Princess Myrcella was coming to Sunspear with the expectation that she would be betrothed to Trystane. Sansa had fled to her room in tears while Trystane had insisted upon a private audience with his father immediately.

"Father, how could you do this? You know I love Sansa. And Myrcella is the Queen's bastard daughter. She is not fit to be my wife! You would have me marry a Lannister bastard?" Trystane raged. "She is the daughter of the enemy!"

"That is precisely why we need her to come to Dorne," Doran calmly replied, his mind already made up on the matter. "She is yet too young to marry, Trystane. But with Myrcella here, the Lannisters will not suspect Dorne of siding with their enemies and will be less likely to make moves against Dorne."

Trystane calmed a bit. "You will not make me marry her?"

"Of course not," Doran replied. "As you said, she is unfit. But she must never know that. You will pretend to be her betrothed until the time comes that we do not have to hide our true allegiances anymore."

"But what of Lady Sansa?"

"Sansa will go to Starfall with Lady Ashara for now. Myrcella knows Sansa and may recognize her true identity. I still intend to make an offer of betrothal to Lord Stark for you and Sansa. You will have to be patient."

"What will we do with Myrcella once we join the war?"

Doran shrugged. "She will be a political hostage to be traded for something we want. Or, if you find her desirable, you can keep her as your concubine. Ellaria can see to her training when she is of age. But I promise you, a Lannister will never be Princess of Dorne, not after what they have done to my sister and her children."

OOOOO

The Prince of Dorne's royal council had decided that Myrcella's quarters would be at the Water Gardens away from the main palace and the training grounds. There the girl would find friendship among Oberyn's younger daughters and be less likely to witness any important government doings. Trystane would only have minimal contact with her, some meals perhaps and other social gatherings. The Prince was satisfied with this arrangement because it meant he could be himself most of the time and it would be possible for Sansa to visit if she stayed away from the Water Gardens. It also meant Little Wolf would not have to leave off her training since Myrcella was forbidden from going to the training grounds. And Trystane rather liked the spunky little Stark.

He did miss having Sansa watch him train from the viewing platform next to his father. Most curiously the spot was now filled by his sister, Arianne, who had never taken an interest in watching until recently. He followed her gaze to the older boys with their shirts off, training in the sun. He couldn't figure out who she was most interested in, Jon or Harran, perhaps both. He felt a bit sorry for her as she was the only woman in Dorne expected to stay a virgin until marriage. A royal Princess was held to higher standards than others. If an alliance was to be made outside of Dorne, it might be to a husband that expected a virgin. Even if the Dornish thought little of virginity, other lands still held it in importance. Even his Aunt Elia had to remain a virgin until she married Prince Rhaegar.

OOOOO

Arianne stepped under her father's umbrella shade and placed her hands on his shoulders affectionately. Doran reached up and patted her hand. "Daughter, come sit with me."

She sat on the empty chair next to him and a servant ran up to her with an ostrich feather fan, giving her solace from the heat. They watched the morning training session in silence a few moments before Doran commented, "You have taken an interest in the training lately."

"I did not realize how interesting it could be. The little girl is quite entertaining."

Doran smiled. "Yes, I like her too. She has much determination. Are you certain it is only her you watch?"

There was a few moments silence before she said, "Jon Sand - he is quite interesting too."

"I see," Doran replied. "You feel attraction for him? He is quite handsome and strong."

"He is a mystery, father," she replied. "He has not one, but two famous knights standing nearby. He trains with the royal family. He speaks, and everyone listens. Even my wild cousins will follow him. There is something about him that different than anyone I've ever known. He has secrets and I think you know what they are. Do you, father?"

"I may," Doran answered, smiling softly. He sighed and added, "But you have not answered my question yet. Do you feel attraction for him?"

"What does that matter? I cannot have anyone except the one I marry. And you will not give me to a bastard." Her expression saddened, and she stood. "Happiness is not for princesses." She bent and kissed his cheek before walking away.

Doran hated to see her sad. He loved his children dearly and he did want them to find happiness in their marriages. He studied Jon carefully. If Jon became the King, he would gladly give him Arianne. But that could be many years from now and Doran was already receiving many offers of betrothal for Arianne. He was also well aware that once the world knew of the Targaryen heir, everyone would be offering Jon their daughters' hands. Though Targaryen Kings could take more than one wife, only the first wife was Queen and her son the heir. And Doran would want that Queen to be his Arianne, his jewel.

He thought back to their guests they recently had from Essos, all of them involved in the Targaryen restoration in one way or another. Jon had impressed them greatly, he could tell. Their leaders wanted Jon to come to Essos where he could gather his allies, including his Targaryen aunt. They thought it would a good alliance, but Doran wasn't so sure. By all accounts it sounded like she wanted the crown for herself. Would she see Jon as the enemy? And the rumors… that she had hatched three dragons. Could that be true? Lady Quaithe had told him that she had met Daenerys Targaryen and her three baby dragons in the city of Qarth.

Doran had a lot to think about.

Arianne was right, however. Anyone could see that Jon had charisma and other qualities that made people want to listen and follow him. He was his father's son. Everyone had loved Rhaegar, and they would love Jon too.

OOOOO

A/N I hope people don't mind what I did with Gendry. I sort of ran with the lines we get from Cersei to Catelyn at Winterfell when she tells about losing her first child - a dark haired boy. I would imagine that boy would be about Gendry's age since it was early on in her marriage to Robert. And Jojen's psychic ability comes in real handy:) Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know your thoughts and thank you for reading.