Good

The message they had received from the Iron Islands was combative, which they had expected given the population, but the Greyjoys gave some indication that they were open to an alliance provided they could meet and discuss such terms face to face. The problem quickly became finding such a neautral territory.

“They will take you prisoner the moment you step foot on Pyke,” Rhaegar told his son, “and then that will either lead to Balon getting his hostage son back and future war or Balon not getting his son back and a present war. Either way you’d end up very dead.”

Jon nodded tiredly. “What if we were to meet on the Western Coast?”

“We would need to arrange something with Lord Tywin,” Rhaegar shook his head, “that would only lead to more problems.”

“What about Dragonstone?” Jon suggested, “it’s an island and they would have the comfort of the sea.”

Rhaegar considered it, then shook his head. “They’d think it far too close to the Capitol,” he frowned at a map laying before him. “It would have to be somewhere distant from our other problems, but not so far that we would be too troubled if things turned ugly,” his eyes opened in delight and he pointed at a painted piece of parchment, “this might serve.”

Jon looked down at the spit of islands near the Dornish Coast. The Stepstones had been a disputed part of Westeros’ history for centuries, with previous Targaryen kings and princes declaring the pirate infested island chain an unofficial eighth kingdom. The Iron Throne had nominal control over the area, but the realities were that they were largely forgotten about in most courtly matters and had become a breeding ground for outlaws and pirates roaming the Narrow Sea.

“Will it be safe?” Jon asked with a frown. “There’s an awful lot of activity there.”

Rhaegar worked his jaw. “This whole plan isn’t exactly safe, but with enough of our men there to protect you, and with enough of an Ironborn presence, the local scum shouldn’t bother the proceedings.”

“Alright,” Jon nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could, “send the word and see what they say.”

As it turned out, the Greyjoys were very agreeable to the location and set a meeting for two weeks on the day. In that time Jon worked to train himself and his guard as much as possible, instilling upon them all that danger could come at a moment’s notice and ensuring that they would be ready to handle it. Eventually they prepared themselves for the journey, Jon going with a collection of fifty men, two of the white cloaks and with his father’s Hand Lord Jon Connington to help with the arrangements. The sun was shining and the sea looked beautiful when they set off, but Jon could not completely rid himself of his unease. Something lay ahead of him, but only the gods could say what.