The Lost Stark

Bonding.

~Ryker
After Daenerys dismissed everyone from court, she took my hand and led me to where everyone who had startled me entered the Great Hall. As we walked through the slightly hidden doorway and into the room of the painted table, I couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Is this place nothing but hidden circles?" I asked my wife while the others filtered into the room.
"It takes some getting used to," she answered stoically, looking down at the table. "Would you like to enlighten us on why you decided to meet with Queen Cersei?"
I shrugged my shoulders and took a seat near her. "I was in the area, and I decided to drop off a present for her along with a warning."
"And so you thought it should be you-"
"Tell me why you and my son had a row yesterday," I interrupted Jon, giving him a glare.
"It doesn't matter," he responded, backing down and avoiding eye contact with me.
"It matters if that's the reason he decided to venture off to Driftmark."
"Enough, Ryker," Daenerys said, slamming her hand on the table. "We have other things to discuss at the moment. Save this for when time is not of the essence."
"As you wish, my queen," I said through a clenched jaw, staring at my half-brother.
The sound of someone clearing their throats breaks through the slight tension. "Jon, you had something you wished to discuss," Tyrion spoke up from Daenerys's side.
"Yes," he reached forward and placed two raven scrolls on the table in front of me.
Without hesitation, I picked them up and read them. The more I read, the more anger settled into my chest. "How long were you free from your chains before you decided to contact the man who led you to them?"
"I didn't," he responded. "He wrote to me, I'm assuming the moment they talked with her."
"What do they say?" Margaery asked, coming to my side and taking them out of my fingers.
"And you decided not to bring this information to me?" I growled out.
"Oh, Ryker," I heard Margaery sigh.
"What is it?" Daenerys asked.
"You had just returned," he defended himself. "We thought them to be dead, just as we thought you to be."
"If word of our family comes, whatever I am doing is irrelevant. You come find me and tell me," I said, standing to my feet.
"Your brother and sister have returned home?" Daenerys whispered. "That's happy news."
"Yes, however, what is important is that Bran saw the Night King and his army marching towards Eastwatch," I told her.
"Eastwatch?"
"One of the many castles the Night's Watch used to guard the Wall," I explained.
"If they make it past the Wall-"
"The Wall has kept them out for thousands of years, presumably," the bald feminine man cut Jon off. A growl rumbled in my chest at the sound of his voice, for some reason, I don't trust this man, especially since he seems glued to Mormont and Tyrion's side. Not only do I not trust him, but I don't like the way he dismissed Jon, making it seem as if Jon is talking falsehoods and turning mad for believing in old tales told to misbehaving children.
"We need to go home," Jon told me with a desperate look, for a moment I was transfixed by those cool brown eyes. The first time in the longest time I saw not the bastard who made my life hell, but the long-lost brother I knew before Theon Greyjoy became his friend.
"You said you don't have enough men," Daenerys pointed out skeptically.
"Was that before or after I had sent Aegon and the Golden Company north?" I asked.
"Before," he whispered. "And we will fight with the men we have, unless the rest of your army will join us?"
"And give the country to Cersei?" Daenerys scoffed back.
Looking to her, I felt a flash of hurt in my heart at the lack of interest in helping The North, before it was washed away by a calm presence. "Cersei has no allies left. King's Landing is surrounded by the Martells and Greyjoys," I defended Jon clenching my fists to hold off a new wave of anger.
"As soon as I march away, she will use whatever men she has left to either break the siege or turn our allies."
"Perhaps not," Tyrion said, stopping me from arguing with my wife. "Cersei thinks the Army of the Dead is nothing but a story, made up by wet nurses to frighten children. What if we prove her wrong?"
"I don't think she'll come see the dead at my invitation," Jon responded with a humorless chuckle.
"So bring the dead to her," Tyrion responded, taking a step towards him.
"I thought that's what we were trying to avoid," Daenerys said, eyeing my clenched fists.
"We don't have to bring the whole army. Only one soldier."
My eyes moved to my brother. "Is that possible?" I asked him.
Seeing the unsure look in his eye made my heart drop. "The first wight I ever saw was brought into Castle Black from beyond the wall."
"In the Lord Commander's chambers," I whispered, remembering what the visions from the House of the Undying. "You were a steward."
"Aye. I was," he swallowed harshly.
"Bring one of these things down to King's Landing and show her the truth," Tyrion urged him.
"Anything you bring back will be useless unless Cersei grants us an audience and is somehow convinced not to murder us the moment we set foot in the capital," the bald man said, speaking over Tyrion.
"The only person she listens to is Jaime," Tyrion replied, looking to Daenerys.
"It's a good thing we have him in our cells," I almost laughed.
"You what?" The imp snapped, turning his head to me.
Confused, I looked to my wife. "You didn't tell him?"
"I was too preoccupied with the whereabouts of our son," she answered shortly.
"If I could talk to him," Tyrion said, bringing us back to the situation. "He might listen to me."
"And how would you get him to Kings Landing to talk to Cersei, in hopes that she will listen to him?" She asked, gesturing to the painted table.
All of our heads turned to the only smuggler in the room. He let out a sigh and nodded his head. "I can smuggle you in. But if the Gold Cloaks were to recognize you, I'm warning you, I'm not a fighter," he assured Tyrion, who nodded back to him. "Sure beats trying to smuggle wildfire," I heard him mumble under his breath.
My head involuntarily snapped back to Davos. "Wildfire?"
"Aye," he nodded. "Prince Rickon suggested we smuggle it out to help defeat the Army of the Dead."
Letting out a semi-relieved breath, I remembered what I had said to Cersei when I saw her last. "Well, he's right," I stated proudly. "But what if we didn't have to smuggle it out."
"What do you mean?" Jon asked, furrowing his brow.
"We have Jaime Lannister, and Prince Oberyn has men on the inside posing as Lannister soldiers. What if we can get word to Cersei? Offer a trade of sorts. Her brother for an audience and the wildfire."
"It could work," Tyrion agreed, deep in thought.
"Well, it'll all be for nothing if we don't have one of these dead men," Daenerys said, pointing out the obvious.
"Fair point," the bald man agreed a bit too eagerly for my liking. "How do you propose to find one?"
"With the queen's permission, I'll go North and find one," Mormont finally spoke up, causing me to growl lowly as Daenerys gave him a look of disbelief. "You asked me to find a cure so I could serve you. Allow me to serve you."
"You what?" I managed to get out through growls as my anger grew more out of control despite the waves of peace Margaery was sending me through our bond.
I heard Jon's footsteps come closer to me and almost snapped when he placed a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back and placing his body between mine and the traitors. "The Free Folk will help us," he said, trying to divert attention away from me. "They know the real North better than anyone."
"They won't follow Ser Jorah," Davos interjected.
"They won't have to," Jon snapped back, looking to his friend, while the breath was sucked out of my lungs when I realized what he meant.
"You can't lead a raid beyond the Wall, Jon," I whispered in shock. "You're-"
"I'm the only one here who's fought them," he cut me off. "I'm the only one here who knows them, Ryker."
"I haven't given you permission to leave," Daenerys told him.
Our eyes met briefly before he turned to my wife. "With respect, Your Grace, I don't need your permission. My sister is my King, and she brought me here knowing that you could have your men behead me or your dragons burn me alive." He took a deep breath. "Together we put our trust in you. To me, you're a stranger, but we put our trust in you because we knew it was the best chance for our people. For all our people. Now I am asking you to trust in me, a stranger because it's our best chance."
"What do you say, King Ryker?" Daenerys asked me.
Letting out a sigh, I looked to Jon. "You will bring the best of your people with you, including the traitor," I told him, gesturing to Mormont, one can only hope he doesn't make it back alive. "We will secure the meeting, you secure your dead man."
"Thank you, Ryker," he let out a chuckle and pulled me into a hug.

"You seem eager to be off and beyond The Wall," I say to Jon as we walk through the cave, checking on the progress our men have made. I chose to come down and see him off rather than sit in the same room as my wife and endure a fight I knew I would lose.
"Eager to be off this island, yes. To be beyond The Wall? No," he sighs, looking over a wooden box of dragonglass.
"What happened between you and Rickon?" I ask the question that has been bugging me since I heard about their argument.
For what seems like a long time, Jon doesn't say anything until his eyes meet mine. "I heard him refer to you as his father," he finally answers, making me confused, as he's been doing it for the longest time. "I had never heard him call you that, and it took me by surprise. I overstepped, and he put me in my place. Rightfully so."
"Jon, I am try-"
"It won't happen again, and truth be told, everything he said was right. You took him with you and raised him while keeping him safe from the wars," he lets out a sigh and scratches the back of his neck. "What I am trying to say is when I had told Queen Daenerys that you are My King, I meant it. I will follow you, do as you say, help protect your back, and lead our people."
"No more attempts at mutiny?" I ask with a grin, trying to ease the tension of his honesty.
"No more," he agrees, trying not to smile.
"Good," I nod. "So the men are taking these back to Winterfell while you sail on to Eastwatch?"
"Aye."
"Do you think it will be enough?" I ask him quietly.
"It may never be enough, but it will help, and so will the Wildfire."
"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," I hear Davos call out, and we both turn in time to see him rushing towards us with a younger man trailing behind him.
"You survived Kings Landing." Giving them both a smile, I nod to the older one.
"Yet again. Your Majesty, this is Clo-"
"Name's Gendry, Your Majesty," he speaks over Davos, holding out his arm. Giving the smuggler a look, I take it in mine and give it a half-shake. "I'm Robert Baratheon's son, a bastard son."
"Um," I answer, taken aback.
"He was meant to keep that to himself," Davos scolds the man.
"Our fathers trusted each other. Why shouldn't we?" He replies, gesturing to me and Jon.
Shaking my head, I let out an awkward chuckle. "I saw your father once, at Winterfell."
"I met yours. In my shop," he nods his head eagerly.
"You're a lot leaner," I point out, fixing my gloves.
"And you're a lot shorter," he fires back.
My eyes jump to his, shocked that he would say that to anyone, much less a King. I honestly don't know what to think of him, but his pup-like eyes manage to break through my walls. "I grew up on stories about them."
Gendry lets out a humorless laugh. "All I ever knew was that they fought together and won." He pauses and looks to Davos. "Ser Davos told me where your brother is going, Your Majesty, and why. Allow me to go with you."
My eyes immediately jump to the man he's referring to and see he's just as surprised as I am. "Don't be a fool, you're not a soldier."
"No, but I'm a fighter," Gendry replies, then looks to Jon. "And he won't be needing a smith with a sword like that." He points to the sword I had given back to Jon.
"You know how to use one?" Jon asks him, looking him over. Gendry shakes his head in response but doesn't look upset about it. "Well, that's a problem."
"It would be if I didn't prefer a hammer," he nods, quieting us both until he looks back to Davos expectantly.
"He can handle himself," Davos answers begrudgingly.
Turning back to Jon, I give him a questioning look. "We could use the help." He nods in agreement.
"As my father used to say, 'It's better to be a coward for a minute, then dead the rest of your life.'"
"I owe you my life. Twice over," Gendry tells Davos, letting Jon and me finally realize the weird connection between the two. "But if what you said is true about what's up there, I can't wait out this war."
Davos lets his head fall with a sigh. "Yep, nobody mind me. All I've ever done is live to a ripe old age." He retorts sassily, leading the young man away and back out of the cave.
I move to follow him and nod to Jon, asking him to join me. As we make our way out of the darkened cave, their small bickering back and forth is making me hold back a chuckle.
Finally, after some time, the grey skies break through the darkness, and I take a deep breath of the fresh, salty air. "Fucking hells, how did you stand to be down there for so long?" I ask Jon.
"I like the silence," he responds with a half-smile.
"Of course you would," I jest, looking out to the small boats our men are loading up.
"Tyrion seems to have friends in all places," he nods to the Imp and Mormont.
Letting out a sigh, I nod my head. "That he does."
"What happened between the two of you? I mean other than him running from father."
"He betrayed Daenerys," I state, glaring at the back of the disgraced knight. "He was offered a pardon for his crimes if he was able to relay information to King Robert. He got close to her, saved her from more than one assassin attempts he had a hand in setting up, and then sold her secrets for something he didn't deserve. Then had the gall to tell her he only stopped because he fell in love with her."
"Ah," Jon nods. "I can see why you hate him."
"Aye." Out of the corner of my eye, I watch my wife walk up to the two men, as Tyrion hands something to Mormont and walks away toward our queen just as she approaches him. The soft smile she gives him hurts so much that I have to turn away. "Be safe up there," I tell my brother, pulling him into another hug. "And if you need to sacrifice someone, let it be him." I jest lightly.
"You be safe here," he laughs. "Get word out to Cersei, and whatever you do, don't let Tyrion near the Kingslayer." He whispers before letting me go and walking to the boats.
Standing off to the side, I watch the two interact, knowing it hurts that after every fight and assurance from her, I find it very hard to believe them now. Shaking my head, trying to rid all the insecurities I feel, I leave them on the beach to say their goodbyes in peace.

As I walk into the gardens, I try to keep my mind off of my wife and her Knight. I had sent a raven to Prince Oberyn before coming here, and all there is left to do is wait patiently. Knowing that I am not the most patient person, I figured a little time in fur along with a nap under a Godswood tree might do my mind some good. However, a small playful growl followed by a toddler's laughter catches my attention. Lifting my gaze upwards, I see Margaery sitting on a bench, watching a silver pup and a small auburn-haired boy tussle in the grass with a smile on her face.
My breath catches in my throat as the memories of Robb and I wrestling in the Godswoods of Winterfell, while our very pregnant mother scolds us for getting too dirty or being too rough, fill the mind I was trying to clear. My feet move on their own accord toward the trio, causing my nerves to rise to the surface and tingle with every step. As my nerves heighten, my heart palpitates unevenly. Daenerys and Margaery will never understand the guilt I feel every time I think of my mother and brother Robb. So, while they want me to spend time with them, they can't comprehend the crippling pain I feel whenever I look at my son. Nevertheless, I will never be the woman my father raised if I hide from my children any longer.
"I thought you would walk away," Margaery whispers softly, not taking her eyes off our children.
"I thought I would too," I whisper back.
"They have been wanting to meet you."
"So I have heard," I respond quietly, watching my son run around trying to catch Lyanna's tail.
I hear the sigh she lets out before she stands to her feet and walks up to me, blocking my view of them. "Ryker," she breathes out, cupping my cheek in her hand. Closing my eyes, I lean into her touch and let her take away all the guilt and anxiety in my heart. "I love you, Ryker, so much."
Smiling, I open my eyes and get lost in her green depths. "I love you too, my rose."
Her hand snakes around to the back of my neck, forcing me to bow my head to meet her lips. For a moment, it feels as if the world around us has stood still to allow us to enjoy each other, that is until a small shriek and a loud "Ew" rings out in the air, breaking us apart. Laughing softly, Margaery gives my chest a small push before turning on her heel, facing our two now giggling toddlers. Feeling a bit awkward now that Margaery helped me with most of my worries, I give them a half-wave before tapping my fingers against my leather pants.
"Come here and say hello to your father," Margaery tells them, still laughing.
In a flash, Lyanna shifts into her pelt and darts to my feet. Bending down, I run my fingers through her sleek silver fur. "You remind me of Visenya when she was just a pup," I whisper. Just as I lift my hand to make another pass through her fur, Torrhen moves his little legs as fast as he can to her side and tries to smack my hand away.
"Dragons," he says sternly, giving me a hardened stare.
Moving my eyes to Margaery, I give her a questioning look. "He's been wanting to see a dragon up close ever since he saw one flying overhead in Meereen," she sighs with a tired smile.
"You want to see a dragon?" I ask him, to which he eagerly nods. Standing back to my feet, I walk to the center of the garden and let out a loud whistle.
"Ryker," Margaery warns when a knowing smile forms on my lips.
"It's only Viserion," I tell her as we hear his screech ring above the clouds. Walking back, I bend down and pick up my son, holding him close against my chest as the winds pick up through the garden due to the dragon trying to land gently in the widest part of the grass. "Easy there, boy," I call up to him.
Just as the ground trembles under the weight of his body, Torrhen lets out another loud shriek of excitement and claps his hands manically. Feeling the warmth spread in my chest at his happiness, I see that it may not be as hard as I feared to spend more time with them.
"Be careful," I hear Margaery call out.
The hot breath on the side of my face calms me a bit more as I lift my gaze to see Viserion has moved closer in curiosity, with his eyes locked on my son. "Careful now, Viserion, be gentle," I say softly to the encroaching dragon, reaching out my hand. "That's it, boy, good job," I encourage him, scratching the underside of his chin as soon as he's within reach. Taking a step forward, I watch happily as Torrhen reaches out his chubby arm and giggles as he comes into contact with Viserion's warm scales.
Turning my head back to Margaery, I lock eyes with my daughter. "Don't you want to pet him too?" I ask her with a smile.
Not wasting any time, she runs forward and shifts so fluidly I almost miss it. But before I know it, she's climbing up my leg, forcing me to adjust Torrhen enough to lift her up with us. And without a care in the world, she reaches out and joins in on the giggles singing through the garden.
"What is she doing?" I hear my wife gasp slightly out of breath.
"Bonding," Margaery replies with happiness radiating from her voice.