299 AC – Morning After

Jon and Daenerys' Tent

Jon prided himself in being a light sleeper. Surprise attacks from other mercenary bands tended to instill lightness in one. However, given the toil and vast amount of information that he had received the previous day, Jon thought he deserved himself a bit of rest. During his long period of slumber, Jon had woken up a few times and had suspected a bug to have crawled on his face as he had felt a tingling sensation on his lips during one of his "awakenings". It didn't bother Jon in the slightest, even as he had more time to ponder it when his lethargy finally left him. Stretching out as he sat up from his bed, he realized that he was very much alone in his bed. Not strange initially, he had spent far much more time sleeping alone than with a companion as of late. Well, his wife in all technicality. However, it was the general idea that he was the last to wake up that took him by surprise. The first night he lay asleep with Daenerys, she had looked very much in deepness as he awoke. Yet, today it seemed that she had him beat. He reached out with his hand to feel the cold fabric beneath his palm. She had him beat by quite a while it seemed.

Taking one last stretch, Jon rose from the bed to get dressed. Walking out of his tent and into the bright light was an unfamiliar concept to him, holding out a hand to block out the blinding of it. A few of the knights and squires turned to him as the gave a slight bow or salute as he passed by them towards the water bucket by the hitching posts for their horses. He made sure to return each gesture with a nod of his own, or at least as many as he could. Scooping up water into his hands, he splashed it on his face and waited with steady breaths to allow full awareness to overtake him.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you got piss drunk last night."

Jon turned a lazed gaze behind him and noticed the cheeky and swaggered walk of Asher Forrester coming close to him.

"Tut tut, Commander. What will our esteemed band of anointed knights think of their leader as they find out he slept late into the morning?"

"Piss off, Asher."

Though the remark was said with a small smile.

"I'm afraid, commander, that I take my duties rather seriously. You won't find myself with a bottle in hand as I make myself to sleep. Well, not at least without a woman in hand."

Jon gave Asher a mocking glance.

"But Asher. What would your dear Gwyn Whitehill say?"

A dark look overcame his friends face."

"Fuck off, Snow."

Jon merely laughed as he scooped another handful of water to splash on his upper torso.

"So," Asher continued "that princess spread her legs yet?"

Asher grabbed an apple from the bucket used to feed the horses and took a satisfying bite from the red fruit. Jon only snorted in response.

"What? She an ingrate? Didn't like your gifts yesterday?"

He really shouldn't have been surprised at the serious look that the blonde man was giving him. For an entire day, Asher had sold him a lie of being a chivalrous man when it came to women.

"You know Asher, I could've sworn you told me not to expect anything from the gifts I would give Daenerys. That "no means no". Was that just some lie you say to make yourself sound good around other people? Don't bother answering Asher. I think I know the answer already."

Asher clicked his tongue in a mocking gesture, sending bits of small apple chunks into the air.

"You expect too much of me, Jon. You know my nature already. Anyways, as it happens I wasn't lying to you…completely."

Jon gave another snort.

"No does mean no. There's nothing more dishonorable for a man than to use his strength to his advantage against women for pleasure. On the basis of expecting a favor in return for a gift? Then, perhaps it's just that it always seems to work for me. In truth I was merely boosting your confidence. I knew you were the sort to be hesitant of trying to "woo" your woman."

"How do you sleep at night Asher?"

"Usually alone. But that's not the topic at hand"

Jon gave a loud laugh, drawing an interrupted chuckle from Asher and a few stares from the camp servants and knights around them.

"The point" Asher continued ", the point is. We need to find a way for that wife of yours to cozy up in bed to you. You know, the men around this camp say "to unlock a happy marriage is with a happy fuck"."

Jon gave an annoyed look.

"And just how many of these conversations of a "happy marriage" are in reference to my recent own?" Jon asked.

"You really want to know?"

"It just so happens that I really don't, but I do hope that you took the liberty of straightening the men out of their vulgar language in reference to me and my wife."

"Why would I?" Asher asked in genuine surprise with his arms spread out and a light shrug. "It just so happens that I am in agreement with the men in the camp."

"Your decadence for the improperness never fails to surprise me, Asher" Jon said with a serious tone.

"Thank you, Jon" Asher chirped. "Though I have to admit that I don't know what decadence means."

"It means the self-indulgence of luxury" Jon replied.

Asher gave him a confused look.

"Is…this some sort of fancy manner of speaking? I have to admit that I don't see the correlation in your statement."

"Disappointing but not a surprise. You always did shy away from books and their wealth of knowledge. You should really learn to pick up a tome once in a while. You'd be surprised in the usefulness of their contents."

"Like?"

"Like my famed battle against "The Great Khal Ramo" at the gates of Norvos. Took almost an exact replica from one of the battles in the "Successful Sieges of Westeros" by Archmaester Arthur Colan Dale."

"That was his name?" Asher asked with a humored face.

"Yes" Jon replied, making away from the water bucket and towards the inner camp. Asher followed him with an equal step.

Asher took another bite, waving and nodding towards the respectful salutes they were given, and spoke with a mouthful towards his friend.

"Strange name, isn't it? Arthur Colan Dale. Not a common one that you hear throughout the world. Even here in Essos."

Jon gave an annoyed look to his friend. Sometimes Asher gave information and advice that Jon valued from time to time, but that's also what made it toilsome on the brain. How such sound advice could come from a complete idiot.

"It's not his name that interests me so, but the information that he's poured into his books. You should be worshiping the man's name Arthur, he saved us after all."

"Said it yourself, Ramo was an idiot that kept charging at us with the landscape to our advantage."

"And where do you think I got the idea to use the landscape to our advantage? Not the multitude of battles on the open fields prior to that day."

Asher snorted.

"You mean to tell me that it took some book for you to get the idea to use the higher ground for our archers? Maybe you're not as smart as you look. I thought it'd be common sense to use any area not reachable by the enemy to lay waste."

Jon laughed.

"An interesting turn of events, Asher. Talking about my overrated knowledge. Weren't you going to show me how to take my wife to bed."

Jon took on a smirk as Asher's face paled, the people around them giving the duo strange looks.

"What?" Asher said with a louder than necessary voice. "I never said anything like that."

It looked more like he was trying to reassure himself rather than anyone else in the camp.

"Alright Snow. But this conversation isn't over" he hissed.

Jon only shrugged as he walked away.

"Are you going to tell me what you and Starsword talked about?"

If it hadn't been clear how much of an annoyance could be at times, then this was the final proof. Asher never did learn to be patient or give people their space when he wanted something from them. As to the nickname. That was Asher's mockery towards Arthur. Really, it was a surprise as to how Asher was still alive after all this time.

"Aye, I will. Just wait."

"But I've waited since the morning!" he whined. "And you've been asleep this entire time."

"You really are an oversized child at times, Asher" Jon replied with a roll of his eyes. "Actually, make yourself useful a bit and tell me how long I've been out."

Asher merely scowled at Jon's comments before answering with an offside view.

"Well, I've been awake since daybreak. Starsword woke up a little earlier, as usual. Sevanna woke up a little whiles after me and that wife of yours a little while after her. If I was a betting man, which I am, I'd say we're about two hours off of noon. Maybe less."

Jon nodded. He had been out for a long time.

"Asher" he said with authority, gathering the attention of the man beside him. "Gather the captains and meet me in my tent as soon as possible. While you're at it, tell the captains to tell their underlings to prepare for make way. I want to start marching towards Myr by noon or damn well near it. Once you get that done, come find me and I'll tell you everything."

Asher looked at him from his far off glance.

"By noon? That'll be a stretch given that the elephants are still somewhat lazing about. Lazarus will have to either be cut out from the meeting or rush as soon as the meeting is over to get them moving. You know how he's the only one those animals really listen to."

Jon nodded.

"And, we'll have to hope that your parents and that wife of yours make it back in time."

Jon stopped. He turned to Asher with a questioning stare.

"What do you mean "back in time"? Where are they?"

Asher stopped in his footsteps to turn to him.

"They went into the city a while after your wife woke up. She said she wanted to see it one last time and had something to do. That's what I heard, at least. Sevanna offered to accompany her and Arthur offered to join them since he didn't want them to go unprotected. Plus, he had a raven to send."

"Yeah, you told me that earlier. A raven…do you know where to?"

"I don't know. Probably some family back home" Asher shrugged.

"Yeah… you're probably right. He's been meaning to talk to his sister since our last contract back in Qohor." Jon knew that Arthur loved his sister more than anything at one point of his life and that it probably burned him to leave her behind to come to Essos with Jon. It made his dedication and sacrifice to raise Jon all that much more valuable. Now, Arthur had fallen in love with Sevanna and would go to the ends of the Earth for her but that was a story for another time. Jon needed to focus on the now. "Irrelevant. I'm sure that Arthur will have them back as soon as we make way. He's always had the ability to show at the most opportune of moments. Gather the captains and make sure we move ahead of schedule."

Asher nodded his response as he paused in his step to go and give commands.

Jon only walked back towards his tent.

Jon's Military Tent

By the time Asher made his way back towards Jon, he had informed him that the captains were ordering the lieutenants to tidy their stations as they ordered their hierarchy of men to prepare for march.

"So, you going to tell me what went down last night?"

Asher stood against a barrel in the corner of the tent, leaning slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. Jon never understood how a barrel always seemed to make its way into the tent, though he suspected it was Asher's doing. Asher always did his utmost to look suave in any situation. It was in these moments that Jon could differentiate the differences and similarities between himself and the northerner. All his life, Jon had tried to imitate the northern way but could never seem to fully grasp it. Asher was brash, brazen and burly. Jon was pragmatic, reclusive and lithe. Jon had learned just the day past that his "Stark"-like look, as Ser Marlon would say, came from his mother. Yet, when pitted next to the two northerners Jon kept close, it was plain to see that one of them did not belong. The one being himself. Asher was a true rogue, a swashbuckler in all but career. Wherever he went, women swooned and fell to his feet. Jon wondered if Daenerys' type was a man like Asher. Even Ser Marlon was handsome in his own way. No young maiden would turn liquid in his presence, but Jon noticed the more mature and esteemed women sneaking him looks as he passed by the streets.

Jon? He was pretty. There was no two ways about it. He didn't have the rough and shaggy beard of Ser Marlon or the rogue trimmed one of Asher. He barely had any stubble growing in place. Jon didn't know how many times he'd heard his men remarking of his smooth and childlike face. The only mark to ruin his perfection was the scar he had received six moons past in a battle against the second sons. It ended in a resounding victory for the Golden Company but the sons had managed to flee with most of their numbers in tact. No company every stayed long on the battlefield against them. How boring had life become for them. Now, cities would hire multiple bands of mercenaries in the hopes of boosting their morale against the company, should Jon ever decide to take a contract against them. So, it wasn't much of a surprise that Jon felt a sort of relief with this plan to invade Westeros. He may have grown weary from battle, but it's what he knew best. He had grown up as a fighter and now lead a company of them. That was a similarity he had with Asher. Both men grew up fighters and were natural born leaders. And in their similarities is what also bore their differences. Jon detested battle, Asher thrived for it.

As much as it burned Sevanna, it's what made Asher a good man to lead the company in the case that he and Arthur were unavailable. Truth be told, Arthur wasn't all that much of a leader. Perhaps he would inspire a small group of men, but that's where Arthur's talents in leadership ended. A small task force? Fine. An entire squadron of men? Asher was the better option.

Still, perhaps all Jon's faults and virtues were due to his nature. Rhaegar Targaryen was a charismatic leader after all. Whereas the Starks preferred their solitude. Maybe that's where Jon received his blend of qualities. A leader that didn't go out of his way to inspire. Then again, Lyanna Stark was a supposed spitfire in her family. Jon dwelled out of his thoughts to pour himself a goblet of wine.

"Tell me Asher. Do you believe in destiny?"

Asher raised a brow at him.

"I'm serious. Do you believe our lives are determined by a secret thread of fate?"

Jon downed the entire goblet of wine, wincing at the bitterness and sweetness of the drink. Asher only pushed himself off of the barrel to take a seat at Jon's left side. Jon poured himself another round while giving Asher his first, all while Jon looked at his friend, waiting for an answer.

Asher reached over to take the goblet with one hand, swirling it as he took a small sip.

"I don't rightly know" he admitted. "I think I'm of the mind that doesn't have a right answer for a question like that. I'd like to believe that destiny is an excuse of the entitled, giving them more purpose to pursue what they believe is rightfully theirs. Then again, destiny doesn't always favor one, if it is real that is."

Asher downed his goblet, no grimace present on his face whatsoever.

"If destiny is real" he continued "then it has determined that I would sit in this seat this very moment with you. We've been friends for how long, now? Two years? Did fate decide that? Did fate also decide to kick me out of my home for falling in love with the wrong woman? If destiny is real, then it has given me as much as it has taken. I'll get back to you with a final answer."

Both friends sat in the silent tent as they awaited the rest of the captains to arrive, drinking to let the time waste by.

Jon stared at Asher's forlorn face and wondered if his friend was still caught on his Gwyn Whitehill. A tragic tale for any maiden to weep at. Two individuals from separate families, families that were enemies from the founding of their houses. A forbidden romance that resulted in the banishment of a son from his home. Almost like Jon.

"Who do I like?"

Asher looked at him before giving a lazy shrug.

"I don't know. Jon Snow I guess" he responded.

Jon only laughed at that.

"Do I look like Eddard Stark to you?"

Asher narrowed his eyes for a split second before shaking his head.

"Maybe, I guess. I never met the man. Father never took me on his visits to Winterfell, and Lord Stark never had any business down at Ironrath. Though, he was part of the reason why I was exiled. You'll have to ask Marlon about that, he certainly seems to think you do."

Jon rolled his goblet in his fingers before setting it down.

"My mother was Lyanna Stark. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen."

Jon sat back in his chair as he watched the information pan over his friend's face. Or rather…tried to. Asher's face gave no indication whatsoever. He merely stared back at him with a blank stare.

"I'm sorry. What?" Asher finally managed out.

Jon leaned in until his grey eyes became clouds of smoke in front of Asher's green ones.

"I said. I'm the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen" Jon whispered.

Asher recoiled back, but not in fear or disgust. Merely in disbelief.

"Are…are you sure?"

Jon nodded.

"Shit. That's…. Shit. That's why Marlon thinks you look like Lord Stark. You're the son of her sister." Jon nodded again. "And Arthur. Seven hells, no wonder he follows you around and protects you. Even when the other Targaryens were alive. You're the son of a prince. You are a prince. Shit! You're the heir to the Seven King-mrmph"

Jon had clamped a hand over Asher's mouth as he made placed a finger over his lips.

"Quiet, Asher. There are ears everywhere. I don't know how many people know about this but I'd prefer to keep it as few as possible."

Asher nodded with wide eyes until Jon slowly released his hand from his face.

"You're the heir to the Seven Kingdoms" Asher finished with a whisper.

Jon shook his head.

"I don't care about that. I don't care much for ruling. I'm going to fight this war for Viserys, because that's what I agreed to do. After that…who knows."

"What? But you've seen that insane cunt. You really think he'll protect the Kingdoms well?"

"I couldn't give two shits about the kingdom and who's ruling it. I'm a mercenary. I live by traveling from place to place and getting hired to take care of people's problems."

"But you can't live that way forever, Snow. Or, Targaryen. Whatever you go by now."

"I go by Jon."

"Whatever. My point is that you can't solve every solution with a blade. There will be a time when you're too old to swing it. And what then?"

Asher leaned over the table.

"Listen" he continued "you're not perfect. No one is. But you're the best I've seen. And I know that doesn't mean much coming from me, but I mean it. You have a wife now and eventually children. And they'll have children of their own. Isn't it your duty as a father and husband to provide the best you possibly can for-.."

Asher paused.

"What?" Jon questioned with a furrowed brow.

"I just realized your wife is your aunt…"

Jon stared at his friend for a few seconds before falling back into his chair and laughing. Asher turned to him with a frantic stare.

"Hey! Why are you laughing? This is serious. She's your aunt, Jon. Oh gods. Now you can't lay with her."

"Too late for that, Asher" Jon replied, a few chuckles coming in between words.

"What?! You fucked your aunt? How? You said you two didn't do anything. And it's only been three days. You knew since last night!"

Jon winced as Asher got louder and louder.

"Asher! I'm right here. And no, I didn't take my aunt to bed. I have however, lain with her as we sleep at night. We share the same tent after all."

Relief spread over the exiled Forrester's face as he fell back with closed eyes.

"That's good, Jon. Really good."

"Why is it a bad thing to seduce my wife?"

Asher opened a single eye in disbelief.

"Because that's your aunt, you daft cunt."

"Aye. And what of it? I'm a Targaryen, Asher. And a Stark." Jon said the last name with emphasis, but Asher was still confused.

"The Great Houses get more luxury in terms of union than others. Just the Targaryen name alone would give me the opportunity to wed my aunt without scrutiny, but it's not unheard of in other Great Houses. House Stark did the bloody same way back then when their lineage was on the brink of extinction. It just so happens that there are only three Targaryens left in this world."

Realization dawned on Asher's face before he turned a skeptic eye towards Jon.

"You're not just saying this because your wife happens to be one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen and are desperate to get between her legs, are you?"

Jon scowled at him.

"Do you always talk this way about women directly to their husband's face?"

"Can't say. Usually the women I speak of aren't their husband's aunt" Asher retorted.

Jon rolled his eyes as he stretched his neck.

"What business I have with my wife is mine alone, Asher. Leave her alone."

Asher raised his hands in surrender at Jon's tone of finality.

Both men simply waited for the rest of the captains to arrive as they finished the pitcher of wine in silence.

Later

"How many of you knew of this?"

Jon was curious to know how many individuals were aware and privy to the information and he also knew who were unaware as well. However, it was good to get confirmation directly.

As expected, Marlon, Rakharo, Nithral and Lagras stayed silent. Asher would have been with that band as well had Jon not deigned to inform him earlier. Balaq and Lysono were the only two to be aware as they nodded their heads when they looked at him. They were also in the same mind to try and convince Jon to marry Daenerys.

"We have been aware of your true heritage since Arthur took control of the company all those years ago" Lysono said in an almost cryptic like manner.

Balaq nodded his assent.

Jon looked at both of his captains before speaking.

"Who else knows of this information?"

Balaq turned to Lysono in what seemed, to Jon atleast, a lack of knowledge. Lysono pondered the information a bit with his calculating eyes before turning his attention back to his commander.

"Very few. As far as I am aware of, all the other captains and their serjeants of the time have perished. Though…" he trailed off.

"Though?" Jon questioned.

"There is one man that knows. He was Harry Strickland's squire for a short while. The call him Rolly. A skilled young man with his blade. I believe he's a blacksmith's son from The Reach."

"Rolly? I have never heard of him" Jon muttered to himself.

"He fled after Ser Arthur slew Harry Strickland in combat. Last I heard of him, he fought with the Second Sons. Though his appearance has changed in time, I am sure you shall peg him by the shock of flame hair he wears."

Jon nodded at the information.

"Very well then" he said, "let us get onto the matter at hand. As I'm sure you've heard by now, given the movement, I wish to leave for Myr as soon as possible to complete our contract."

"What for?" Marlon questioned. "We thought you might wish to stay a bit longer until your wife settled in around us. Has Myr really pressed us for time by that much?"

"Surprisingly not. Despite wasting our time here to be called by the prince of Pentos, only to inform us of our contract all the way in Myr, the contract stated that we had a moon's time to arrive. However, recent knowledge and a change in plans has affected our schedule."

"Such as?" Lysono inquired with a curious gaze.

"Such that "King Viserys" has deemed it notable for us to set off towards Tyrosh in due haste. He plans to secure a loan from the Iron Bank before meeting us in Tyrosh for our voyage towards Dorne."

The captains began to talk amongst themselves in whispers. Jon merely sat and observed. For the most part, Asher remained quiet but answered Ser Marlon's questions with words few and in between. Balaq muttered alongside Lysono while Rakharo conversed in confusion alongside Nithral. Lagras remained quiet with a far-off gaze. It was Balaq that turned to him.

"So, we are to complete the contract first in Myr?"

"Yes. And after that we make for Tyrosh. I suspect Viserys will have secured his loan, if he secures it, by the time we arrive in Myr. Then he should sail with a ship through the Narrow Sea. I suspect he plans to purchase a few ships from the Tyroshi fleet" Jon answered. "Then, a few ships from Dorne should arrive. I will mainly use the Dornish fleet to ferry the war elephants across. Lagras."

The Ghiscari turned to him.

"I want you to land before the rest of us. Get the elephants accustomed to the land. Have them fed and watered."

Lagras nodded at Jon's words.

"Once Lagras makes land" Jon continued "I will land with Viserys. Asher and Arthur will land after us. And the rest of the captains will land with their respective bands."

Every man in the tent nodded.

"Your wife" Asher said beside him. "At which point will she land?"

Each man turned to him. Jon took a deep breath.

"Daenerys will be ferried alongside Sevanna. Both women will ride with Arthur and Asher and will land after Viserys and I."

A few of the captains frowned at the information but the majority saw no problem with it. Asher was one of indifference. No doubt Arthur would try to give him hell if he were hear to here it. Perhaps Sevanna as well. Better to try and ignore it or put if off for as long as possible, Jon thought.

As if he was summoned by his thoughts, Arthur practically glided through the tent flaps as he strode over to sit at Jon's right side. Silence overtook the tent as they saw the Sword of the Morning adjust himself in his seat. Jon noticed that he looked out of breath and slight sheen of sweat covered his forehead. No doubt he made his way over in due haste.

"Arthur" Jon said promptly "so nice of you to join us. We were just discussing our plans before we make way towards Myr."

Arthur nodded but had a small look of apprehension.

"So soon, commander? I thought you might wait a few days?"

Jon shook his head.

"I have no basis to wait any longer, Arthur. I admit, that my timeline is based on the predictions of how long it should take Viserys to secure his loan, as well as on the prediction that he should travel by sea. Either way, it would make it easier on us to arrive ahead of schedule rather than later."

Arthur conceded with a short nod of his head.

"Though" Jon continued "I'm curious to know as to where you've been."

Arthur sat straight in his seat.

"I was with your wife and Sevanna, commander. Princess Daenerys wished to see the city one last time and make her peace of gratitude toward Illyrio Mopatis before we left. Sevanna offered to accompany and I did not see it fit to leave them to their own."

Jon kept staring at him.

"I also found the situation opportune as I had intended to send a raven before we left the city, anyways."

"So I heard" Jon said softly. "Do you see it worthy to share the contents on to whom you sent the raven to?"

"I do not, commander. At least, not at the moment until I receive a response in return."

Jon raised a curious brow.

"Then am I correct to assume that the raven you have sent was not towards your sister, Ashara?"

Arthur nodded.

"That is interesting, Ser Arthur. I haven't the faintest clue as to whom you mean to contact" Jon muttered before clapping his hands on the wooden table, "but that is of little importance right now. I mean to set off and with haste. Arthur, Asher, I trust you two will have little trouble moving the men under your command, but perhaps it will be in benefit of the entire company if you two were to order them to help around the camp. If only to hasten things along."

Both men nodded.

"Of course, commander."

"Good" Jon said. "Then this meeting is dismissed."

All captains rose from their seats as they nodded towards Jon. Asher went along with them and spoke with Ser Marlon along the way. Rakharo and Nithral kept talking amongst themselves while Lysono and Balaq went their separate ways. Lagras walked silently towards his mammoths. Arthur stayed behind.

"So" Jon said as he went over the pitcher with wine, "are you going to tell me to whom you sent that raven to?"

He poured a goblet for himself and Arthur, the latter took the goblet with hesitance before taking a single sip.

"A mutual friend to our cause, I believe?"

"A friend to Viserys?" Jon asked with a raised brow.

"Er…no" Arthur admitted. "This mutual party I believe is loyal to you and only you. Which is why I must urge you to take the throne. It is yours by right."

Jon waived him off.

"I told you already, ser, I will not take the throne unless I deem it worthy to take. We have many moons, possibly years to see if Viserys is worthy to call himself King. I do not believe the conquer of Westeros will be as easy as most of my captains believe it to be, though the shelter of Dorne is quite fortuitous to our cause."

Arthur stared at him with sad eyes.

"Rhaegar" he started, but Jon cut him off.

"Was my father, though I hold no obligation to him. He started a war that ruined our House, if what the history books say is true. He had two children and a wife. His obligation was to them and he put them at risk when he decided to name Lyanna Stark his Queen of Love and Beauty in front of the world at Harrenhal. If he had stayed true to his wife, then perhaps Viserys would not be the mad man I saw those few days ago. Daenerys would live happily in the Red Keep with her family, no fear of being wed to a barbarian, perhaps even playing happily with Rhaenys and Aegon. Perhaps even betrothed to Aegon himself. And Rhaegar and Lyanna? Well, Rhaegar would be in line to rule with his children still alive, and my mother would be as well if she had kept herself faithful to her promised hand to Robert Baratheon."

Jon took a few sips of his wine as he pulled out a book from under the table.

"Your mother…" Arthur trailed off with a sad tone.

"Was just as responsible for the war as my father" Jon picked up. "Yes, yes, Robert Baratheon, the whoremonger with his dozens of bastards. Or was it a single bastard? I forget the details at times. Though, it is quite besides the point if I'm being quite honest. How many marriages were made with an unhappy bride? And unhappy groom? Plenty, I believe. Though they happened anyways and with promptitude for the peace and security of the realm. I'm reminded of Maegor and his decision to set aside his wife, Ceryse Hightower, for Alys Harroway on the basis that Ceryse could give him no heirs. Perhaps one can side with Maegor, heirs are an expected outcome in a marriage. But what did he accomplish? In the end, what was his reward? He married Alys Harroway, and half the continent's women, and received nothing. No heirs. Perhaps it was his see that was the problem. And yet…it was through Maegor's actions that led to the eventual Doctrine of Exceptionalism. The same doctrine that gives me the right to marry my aunt. Though, it is not unheard of in other houses. But it did lead to my eventual birth by proxy of Aerys and Rhaella. Siblings and ultimately my grandparents. Funny, how things work out in the end. Of course, Rhaegar would later do the same. Set aside Elia Martell for Lyanna Stark. Am I right to assume that it was on the question to Elia's fertility? I guess it doesn't matter. It led to the same outcome as Maegor's. Though the climax is different. Maegor had dragons and he still lost. It took three generations for the faith to be brought to heel. Rhaegar had his sword and was crushed at the Trident. Figuratively and literally. Now his last living child leads a mercenary band that was originated to destroy his house. His siblings live as beggars while his brother possibly succumbs to the madness and his sister lives as a dragon with clipped wings. All hail Crown Prince Rhaegar. How does that rhyme go again, Ser Arthur? Rhaegar fought valiantly. Rhaegar fought nobly. And Rhaegar died. Heh, perhaps I will die that way as well."

Jon muttered the last bits of his speech to himself, but his eyes never left his book as he spoke. It shamed Arthur that he could not come to Rhaegar or Lyanna's defense. No matter how true the words may be to one, Arthur would gut the individual that dared to speak of Rhaegar or Lyanna in such an impudent manner. Not their son, however.

"Your grace" Arthur said but was only met with Jon's clicked tongue. "Commander" He corrected. Jon flipped another page but stayed silent. No mocking noises coming from his mouth.

"Commander" Arthur continued "I thought you had come to terms with your heritage. I… I did not believe you would hold any ill will towards your parents whatsoever."

"Oh, but you are wholeheartedly correct, Ser Arthur. I have come to terms with my heritage. The logic is too great to ignore. And I hold no ill will towards my parents. However, I also am not ignorant to the repercussions of my birth or the union that led to it. My mother and father chose love and damned me to the other side of the continent because of it. I have never seen Westeros and its lands. Only have I heard stories that come out of the mouths of men that fled it. Neither has Daenerys seen it, most likely. A fault that belongs to my father as well."

"The Princess" Arthur started weakly "she cannot move out yet with us, Jon. She does not have a firm grasp on how to ride a mount. She will not be ready for the long journey to Myr. Surely you must know that?"

Jon heard the desperation in Arthur's voice but met his mentor's gaze with hardened grey eyes that were very reminiscent of the smoky hue of Valyrian steel itself.

"I am aware and I can only begin to sympathize with her newfound freedom. She's very reminiscent of a fawn, wouldn't you say Ser Arthur? However, that is where my heartfelt feelings for her must end. She must learn to keep up with my company on the road to Myr. I cannot afford to waste anymore time, not when Viserys begins to move as well towards Braavos. Had Daenerys been wedded to Khal Drogo, I suspect that she would have ridden with the Khalasar the morn after her bedding. I believe myself to have been much kinder" Jon said with a coolness.

"Jon! It would take Viserys at least a fortnight to reach Braavos by horse. A moons time to sail towards Tyrosh with the winds at his sails! Just a few days is all I ask for the sake of the princess. It should give her enough time to accustom herself to the saddle."

"I have already given the order" Jon replied. "When I woke this morning, I meant to march by noon's time with a flexible schedule of an hour. My captains have been notified and move as we speak. I believe I told you to move your men so that they might make use of themselves to aid the pace of our departure."

"You can rescind that order, Jon. You're the commander. You have the final say. The men will halt all their effort if you just give the word."

Jon simply smiled as he closed his book and tucked it under the table. However, the dark grey eyes were steeled and unyielding as they met with Ser Arthur's violet hues.

"Your men need their captain to help them move with haste, ser. I will not repeat myself again."

Arthur swallowed with bitterness and a cold sweat upon his brow before bowing towards his commander.

"Of course. Commander."

And as Arthur walked out of the tent to his duties, Jon poured himself another goblet of wine.

…

It had taken near an hour past noon until the entire camp was ready to mobilize. Jon walked alongside Asher as they made their way towards their mounts. Jon strode in his boiled leather armor with his steel sword faithfully at his hip. He hadn't felt comfortable displaying Blackfyre in all its glory until he was sure that Viserys was traveling in the opposite direction while Jon made his way down to Myr. So, in the meantime he had asked for a scabbard meant for a bastard sword. The fit hadn't been perfect, but it would serve its purpose until Jon had enough time to place an order for a well fitted one, along with a new pommel.

"That wife of yours looks awkward atop her mount" Asher noted.

Jon turned his gaze towards his wife in question and couldn't help but find himself agreeing with his friend. Daenerys looked from side to side with fear in her eyes as her awkwardness translated to her white mare. The horse was as beautiful as it had looked any day but it fidgeted in its steps as it swayed side to side. Jon cursed inwardly as he hasted his steps toward his horse, Scorpion.

"Perhaps its her nerves" he muttered over to Asher.

When he had mounted the black Sand Steed, Jon slightly motioned the horse to stand by his wife's mare.

"You know" he said, startling Daenerys as she turned her gaze to him with wide and nerved violet eyes, "it wouldn't do good to have my wife falling off her horse the moment we're set to leave."

He smiled at her softly as Scorpion huffed in his place with a rigid stance. It almost made Jon laugh at the absolute stillness his horse took. Almost as if Scorpion wanted to demonstrate to Daenerys' mare as to how a proper mount should behave.

Jon noticed that as Daenerys seemed to slightly calm in her nerves, the white mare began to subdue itself as well. Jon reached over to slowly brush the mare's silky mane with his fingers.

"You and your mare share a special bond" he noted with a soft tone. "I can see it clearly. Should you feel calm, your mare is calm. Should you feel nervous then your mare will as well. I think you should be calm for your horse; wouldn't you say Daenerys?"

He gave her another small smile before turning his eyes back to the silky white mane of the mare.

"Chimera" he heard her say softly.

"I'm sorry?" He asked as he turned to her.

"Her name. I named her Chimera."

Jon smiled again as he ran his fingers through Chimera's silky mane.

"A beautiful name. Chimera" Jon said. He turned to her with a questioning glance with as much gentleness in his eyes that he could muster. "May I ask what inspired the name?"

He could make out his wife squirming in her saddle from his peripheral vision as he rubbed the mare's ears. He turned his gaze to her to see a slight hue of red dust her cheeks.

"I was reading one of the books you gifted me" she replied in a soft voice, "and I came upon a section about all the fabled creatures that once existed in our world. I came across the creature and was enraptured with it for a short bit."

Jon nodded at her explanation. He was familiar with the mythological creature. If he wasn't mistaken, then the chimera was said to be an embodiment of a female warrior with the head of a lion, the body of a goat and the tail of a draconid. The tail was supposed to be the source to the chimera's fire breathing nature. He suspected that was the reason for Daenerys' slight curiosity with the creature.

"It reminded me of my house" she said quietly.

"The draconid?"

"The three heads" she responded.

Now it was Jon's turn to be curious. He was on the fringe of asking Daenerys if she read correctly as he was not aware of the chimera to possessing three heads.

"Each head was a separate being" she continued. "One of a lion, one of a goat and one of a drake. The drake was the center of the three heads and the most deadly with its fire breathing capabilities. However…I chose the name Chimera for my mare because of its tail."

Jon looked at her with the same curiosity as before.

"Its tail?"

Daenerys nodded.

"Yes. Its tail. You named your mount 'Scorpion' and I read that the Chimera had the tail of a scorpion as well. Therefore, I thought it only right that as your wife I should name my mare something befitting of your mount…"

He could tell that she was embarrassed in informing him of the inspiration for Chimera's name as her voice trailed off slightly while she deliberately failed to meet his gaze. She looked almost angelic and very much a maiden from the songs of chivalry and valor. Jon could not find it in himself to tease her or let her know that she probably had her information bungled as it was the Manticore that possessed the tail of a scorpion and not the Chimera. So, he settled for a slight chuckle and smile towards Daenerys as leaned back over his own horse. He reached over to Scorpion's ears and began to scratch them affectionately before his mood turned serious.

"It's a long march towards Myr" he told her. He did not bother to look over to her. "The march would usually take any other band a fortnight to reach, but The Golden Company does not have such luxury. The Mammoths hold more energy than any man or horse but they also take the longest to have in formation and mobilize efficiently. Even as they possess the energy to keep moving, my men and their horses will tire with the long march. Not only physically, but mentally as well. I had hoped to stay a few days longer but recent information from your brother has hastened my schedule. I have no idea if he's let you know, but it is paramount for me to arrive in Tyrosh with haste. That is why I have made the decision to move the company at this moment. Do you understand?"

He saw her nod once more, but Jon chose to ignore it as he turned a quizzical gaze towards her. He saw her slightly flinch at his eyes and it almost made him apologize, but he couldn't afford her the sentiments. Not at the moment. The march would long and gruesome, especially for her. Jon planned to push his company harder than ever before and it was unfair that Daenerys should be subject to learn quickly under such conditions. But that was life, wasn't it? It wasn't always fair.

He held his gaze until he heard and saw a weak "yes" leave her lips. Perhaps it was cruel to torture her in such an emotional way, no matter how light, but she needed to toughen quickly. The sooner she began to speak with confidence would be for the best. For now, just hearing her voice would be enough.

"You may ride with Sevanna or you may ride at my side. It matters not to me but the decision is yours."

Jon clicked his tongue to urge Scorpion to gallop ahead of the company. He saw his captains lined up in their usual formation with his lone spot at the head. Nithral and Lagras rode at the rear. Balaq rode with Rakharo, next in line. Ahead of the captain of archers and the captain of horses were Ser Marlon and Lysono Maar, his respective captain of coin and captain of whispers. At the head of the line of captains were his two most trusted advisors and greatest friends. His two most important captains. Asher Forrester and Ser Arthur Dayne. Asher, his captain of cavalry, rode at the left while Ser Arthur, the captain of the guard, rode on the right. A small squadron of elite knights rode behind the captains. They were the guard and under the command of Ser Arthur. Jon had found the idea of a "guard" to be unnecessary but Arthur deemed it an important precaution. Any sort of rebuttal on Jon's end died when Sevanna took Arthur's side.

Jon galloped to the front as he nodded towards his captains before taking position at point. He waited for a few moments before clutching the reigns tightly. However, just as Jon began to turn around towards his men, he heard the galloping of hooves to his right. He angled his head slightly, just enough to see Daenerys ride to his side.

"You chose not to ride with Sevanna?" He asked with slight surprise.

To Jon's awareness, Daenerys had taken to Sevanna quickly and spent most of the time, that they had been married, with his adoptive mother.

"She's with Doreah."

"Who?"

"A friend" she replied.

Jon only nodded.

"I should ride at your side" she declared.

He looked over to her and saw defiant violet eyes looking back at him. There was a tinge of submission between them, but a fire as well. Jon could only smile at her and he felt something within him churn as her face lit slightly at him.

"Can you keep up?"

She stared at him with the same fire as a few seconds before.

"I can try."

He looked forward to the plains of the green fields.

"Good" he replied.

Jon turned around to face his men. Not his captains, but the guard that rode behind them.

"Sound the horn!" He yelled to them. "We move now!"

The rider at the head of the squadron nodded before reaching for his horn at his side and blowing with ferocity. And just like that, The Golden Company began to move towards Myr.