Of Battle Bonds and Gifts

About an hour later, after they had returned to the castle with the **** Mira Forrester, Sansa Stark looked as most of the former handmaiden's remaining family members were pacing outside the room where she was being treated. Lyanna Mormont and Princess Val were also silent for the most part, watching them discuss the disturbing possibilities that the eldest sister of Lord Rodrik had muttered before collapsing on the snow.

"Are you truly sure that she said Lord Glover has betrayed us?" The Lord of Ironrath asked again.

Asher glared at the wall in front of him. "I am sure, brother. And let me tell you, if I cross paths with him on the battlefield, he will have more reason to fear me than Ramsay Bolton!" He vowed. "Not interfering at all in the war between us, his bannermen, and the Whitehill forces was bad enough, especially when the year-long siege disrupted the Wolfswood region so much. But actively marching against us now? After we have uncovered King Robb's will, our forces have grown, and also gained the supports of giants, not to mention an actual dragon? Oh, my blade will taste that traitor's entrails if I have anything to say about it!"

"Get in line, brother," Josera Snow said with narrow eyes. "If I find him first on my Snow Bear familiar, worrying about iron weapons will be the last of his concerns."

"Come on now," Lyanna said as she raised a hand. "There will be enough traitor's blood for everyone in the coming battle. And you can always work together to slay him as well."

"Indeed," The experienced warg said, before turning back to his older brother. "I will stand by your side, be it in two or four legs, and we will face him together; if you'll have me."

Asher nodded firmly, his fist clenched as it laid beside his sheathed blade. "But of course! Together will show the ruler of Deepwood Motte that Ironrath is not to be underestimated. And while we are at it, teach him a whole new meaning to our House's motto."

Josera smirked at that, his expression fierce. "Iron from Ice!"

"Iron from Ice!" The rest of the Forresters present, including Josera's bastard twin sister, echoed on instinct.

Sansa couldn't help but smile at their unity. "And the North Remembers. This is why I assure you that, one way or another, this betrayal by Lord Glover will not stand. And House Stark will be backing you every step of the way."

"However," The Lady of Winterfell in Exile continued, "I think it may be best to hear what Mira discovered before jumping to conclusions. She also did say that Euron was there. And I can only think of one notorious man with that name, close enough to Deepwood Motte, with enough resources and soldiers to cause chaos."

Lyanna nodded, her face angered. "Euron Fucking Greyjoy. The new King of the Iron Islands. His fleet raided Bear Island once before and later on, we got reports from the villagers that he **** no less than 6 virgins that one time, before slitting their throats," She added in disgust. "And now he means to move against the North too, like his brother before him? Oh, how I would love to drive a dagger through his eye."

Sansa looked at the little Lady with the heart of a warrior and saw the outrage in her bones but then she was distracted by Princess Val's look of determination when she heard that, her blonde locks moving gracefully as she titled her head; getting closer to her ally so that she could look her in the eye more easily.

"That's the spirit, my Lady. And if he actually decides to arrive at the battlefield and fight against us, I will be happy to help you accomplish your goal, if you want," She proposed. "Sounds like an enemy I would be happy to geld."

Lady Mormont actually chuckled a bit at that. "With an offer like that from a great warrior such as yourself, how can I refuse?"

Sansa watched as the Princess of the Free Folk and the Ruler of Bear Island shook hands, and her own grin joined theirs. Before long, however, a thought came to her, based on what they had discussed.

"Hmm, from what I have heard of the infamous brother of the late King Balon in the past, he sounded like the kind of man that would despise his nephew, Theon, just for the fact that that monster, Ramsay, cut his balls while he was his helpless prisoner," She thought. "In fact, he probably mocked him for that before Yara and he had to flee the Iron Islands after the Kingsmoot."

With that realization fresh in her mind, she had to admit that the thought of that murderous, pillaging **** that managed to become a king getting gelded was the kind of poetic justice that made her smirk slightly.

Her darker thoughts were interrupted, however, when Maester Ortengryn opened the door and showed himself.

"I have treated her injuries and the frostbite on her shoulder that got exposed to the snow the longest," He announced. "All things considered, they were fairly minor wounds, scratches mostly. Her biggest problem was exhaustion and hunger. That's what made her lose consciousness," The Maester explained. "She will need a proper night's rest soon and some softer foods but now that she is awake, she insists on speaking to you all. It seems she has important information to share."

There was a moment of silence at that, and some glances were exchanged but before long, they all moved to enter the room.

Jon Stark was tying his satchels to the saddle of his Ice Dragon to the metallic chains he was using. Some got bent in the fight with the group of Faceless men, so the Iron Bank provided freshly forged replacements of the highest quality the smiths could handle on short notice. They also added an extra chain to tie to the front of the saddle that he could pull in different directions, presumably use to better indicate his mighty she-dragon where and when to turn. Technically, Jon was reasonably confident that he could direct him most of the time through their emotional and mental bond that has grown stronger due to his own powers but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to have that option when he needed to react fast under pressure. After all, he almost couldn't control her when she got rattled by the colossal size of the Titan of Braavos.

While he was wrapping up with that, he was continuing his conversation with Tycho Nestoris.

"...in agreement then?" Jon asked.

"Yes," The high-ranking banker replied. "The Iron Bank will send a representative to White Harbor with the treaty fully drafted for you to inspect in a fortnight's time. He will also have the authority to make some minor amendments to the written contents of the deal if there is something you would prefer to alter. Once that's done, one way or another, the representative will be delivering the first shipment of gold for you to gain. I imagine you would have managed to take care of the Bolton rebels by then?"

"That will be more than enough time at this point, I assure you," Jon replied.

"In that case, there is only one more thing to take care of," The Braavosi said while gesturing at a young servant to approach.

He did and carried a white chest with them, before opening it in front of him. Inside, was the red dragon egg Arya had gotten her hands on before their fight with the Jaqen's group of skilled assassins, now standing on a blanket within the coffer.

The young king raised an eyebrow and Nestoris shrugged. "The Faceless Men brought it to us while you were **** and explained the situation, claiming they couldn't take it as payment because your sister interfered with the contract before they decided to release her from her duties to their order," He explained. "At first we weren't quite sure what to do with it, since it used to be in the possession of an infamous and dangerous pirate who has now become king. But since you have now informed us of your plans to conquer the Iron Islands, and we have established an alliance with you, it seemed more appropriate to give it to you. I suppose you could consider it a preemptive spoil of war or something."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," Jon commented before grabbing the egg with his hands and looking at it up close. "Hmm, it looks a bit worn by time. I imagine it is one of those eggs that failed to hatch."

"That was our thought as well," The banker said in agreement. "I would say its chances of hatching would be close to zero but...well, the Dragon Queen somehow managed to stir her own eggs to life and you have performed feats of magic that have left us all quite impressed, to say nothing of the fact you are dragonrider now so, I believe it might not be wise to bet against you, your Grace."

Jon was silent for a moment as he analyzed those words, his mind contemplating the possibilities.

"I should be able to hatch it with my powers if I word it well enough," He thought. "I may have to be specific enough to establish a mental and emotional bond with the rider I would intend to give this egg to, however, especially if my chosen candidate doesn't have known blood ties to House Targaryen in them."

Outwardly, though, he just thanked the servant of the Iron Bank for the potentially game-changing gift and turned around to face his own winged mount. Then, he placed the valuable dragon egg on a pouch that he tied with its knots as well as he physically could, before carefully adding it to the pile of things he wanted to chain to the saddle to keep it from falling off during the coming flight. While he was doing that though, he spotted Bellegere Otherys beside his sister, and the memory that she was actually the blood of the dragons resurfaced in his mind.

"Huh," Jon murmured without his voice as sudden ideas crossed his head. "Something to consider, I suppose."

Once he was done, influential Braavosi approached him. "Then, with this, it seems our current order of business is concluded," Tycho replied with a light smile as he extended his hand. "It has been a pleasure to facilitate this alliance, King Jon. And most educational as well."

"Likewise, my friend," The secret god responded with a nod, his tone grateful. "I hope our paths cross again."

"I wish the same. Oh, and just so you know, Shallan Ravad should be arriving to this island shortly since I sent for her a while ago," He stated. "Remember that she wanted to talk to you before you left.

"Understood," Jon replied. "Take care of yourself."

And with that, the high-ranking banker left his fine cloak flowing with the wind. Jaqen and Arya stared at each other for a moment longer but the Faceless Man had nothing to add. So, he just nodded at the two of them and headed to the House of Black and White.

After that, Jon took a deep breath and turned back to look at Bellegere. "Do you want to stop anywhere before we leave? I am sure that being asked to leave the city you have known your whole life must not be easy, even with prophetic demands."

The Black Pearl of Braavos looked less nervous at the thought than before but she still seemed slightly uneasy. "Well, we don't have to stop back home. I already sold it last night and the Iron Bank was gracious enough to store most of the valuables I couldn't bring to Westeros with me. So, with my account in order, I think it will be best if I travel light for now, so I will just carry my bag of gold and silver and a few personal objects I want to keep close. Although..." She hesitated for a moment then looked up, "if you could make a stop on your dragon atop the Titan, I would love that. I always wanted to see the city from there."

Jon gave his Ice Dragon a look, trying to convey the word "behave" while pointing at the colossal fortress-statue. His mighty familiar snorted, blowing a freezing chill from its nostrils but bowed her head to him in response. The young king chuckled.

"Very well then," He said. "I hope you enjoy the view."

She actually grinned at that, delight in her gaze. "Something tells me that I will. Thank you for that."

At that moment, Arya cleared her throat. "Bellegere?" She called out.

The exotic beauty turned to her. "Yes?" She asked, tilting her head.

"I...am sorry," She muttered, her gaze down. "I know I said I was going to miss you but I wasn't expecting my presence in your room at that time to suddenly put you on a path that would uproot your life. Don't get me wrong, it will be great to have you in the North with us, at least for a time but I know from experience that being **** to leave the place you call home due to forces outside your control is not fun."

The Black Pearl of Braavos stared at her for a moment but then she sighed. "I appreciate the sentiment. But don't worry about that too much, Arya. The Scrolls of the Prophecy of Liberation practically described me to the letter. Even without your presence in my bed, by the time your brother arrived on that Ice Dragon, it was only a matter of time before the priestesshood connected the dots."

Then she smiled softly. "Besides, while I am sure it will take some adjustment to adapt to life in the North, it will be good to know someone there that I like. So, I hope we can find some time for you to show me around your favorite places back home."

His sister grinned at that. "Of course! I will be happy to do some exploring with you. I might need a new sword before we set out though, now that that bitch ruined Needle, though."

Jon's eyes widened at that. "Oh, that reminds me, I have a gift for you."

"Oh, really?" Arya asked as her grin expanded. "The last time you gave me a gift, you were leaving for the Wall and you wanted something for me to remember you by. Now that you are free from your vows and have become a king, what is the occasion?"

He chuckled at his sister's comment. "Well, I am so glad that we are back together after all these years and that we are coming back home to Winterfell very soon. And besides, as you say, I have become a king now but I still lack heirs of my body. So, tell me, by legal necessity, what does that make you as my little sister?"

She frowned for a moment at that question before it hit her right between the eyes.

"Wait," She gasped. "I am princess now?!"

Jon cracked up at her expression, his roar of laughter resonating loudly. "Heh, you should see the look on your face!" He ended up saying with a wide smile. "But don't worry too much. I know that if being a proper Lady is not what you want for yourself then being a princess like the ones from the stories would suit you even less. And besides, Sansa is technically older than you so if worst comes to worst, she is closer to the line of succession than you and as you know, she is better suited for the traditional side of role."

Then he got more serious when she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow. "So, given your preferences, your combat experience, and the threats the North faces, I believe you may be a lot more interested in becoming a warrior princess and helping our realm that way. And as it happens, I believe I have the perfect gift to help you with that."

And with that, Jon opened one of the bags and removed one of the three Valyrian Steel swords in his possession from its hilt.

Arya's jaw dropped to the ground in no time.

"That's...that's..that's..." She broke off, her eyes as wide as twin full moon.

"That's Dark Sister," Jon confirmed with a lot of satisfaction in his tone. "It was given to me while I was beyond the Wall by an old friend of the previous Targaryen owner. Long story for now," He added when he saw her reaction to that bit of information. "But yes, the Valyrian Steel blade, made for more slender female hands, that first gained great renown by your childhood heroine, Visenya Targaryen, the legendary dragonrider and sister-wife of Aegon the Conqueror is now yours. I will expect you to train with that since Needle required a different style of swordsmanship but, well, what do you think?"

As a response, Arya sheathed the blade immediately and wasted no time in jumping towards him, hugging him for all she was worth.

"THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!" She chanted at the top of her lungs, sounding more excited than he could ever remember her being.

The thought made him smile. It was great to have his sister back.