A/N: Jon arrives in King's Landing~
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The journey to King's Landing is not what Jon would call very 'fun'. He's never been on a ship out to sea before, and it wound up taking him half the voyage just to get his sea legs under him. Part of him wishes he could have just traveled the Kingsroad instead, but he knows full well how much longer that would have taken. Travel by ship, so long as it was a solid, reliable vessel, was far faster.
And the threats north of the Wall weren't the kind of thing Jon could afford taking the slow route for. If he was to be the one to convince the King that the threat of the Others was real and that the wildlings needed to be allowed to come south before the army of wights consumed them, then he needed to move as fast as humanly possible.
All the same, Jon is glad to finally step foot off of the boat and onto one of the docks in King's Landing's harbor. The city itself is massive, bigger than any other settlement he's ever laid eyes on before, not counting the Wall. And to be fair, the Wall was more of a fortification than a settlement. The sorry sight of Castle Black by itself certainly couldn't hold a candle to the city before him now.
Only, before he can get more than a few feet down the dock, there's a scuffle on the ship right behind him.
"Where do you think you're going, brat?"
"Let me… go! JON!"
Jon was already turning around from curiosity, but he turns around a LOT faster when the familiar voice of his youngest sister reaches his ears. Arya? How the fuck was he hearing Arya calling his name here in King's Landing?
What he sees when he looks back at the ship doesn't make much sense either. It's the Captain of the vessel that had brought him here restraining one of the deckhands, holding them back from running off of the ship. It takes a moment for Jon and the deckhand's eyes to meet, at which point he finally recognizes Arya in the scruffy, dirt-caked deckhand's face.
Before he can even fully process this development, Jon's legs are already moving of their own accord, his sword clearing its sheath and pointed unerringly at the Captain in mere moments.
"That is Lady Arya Stark, daughter of the Lord of Winterfell. Unhand her immediately."
The Captain's eyes widen and he lets go of Arya like she's on fire. As she runs to Jon's side, the apologies start immediately and through the Captain's blubbering, Jon is able to piece together what must have happened. Somehow, Arya had snuck out of Winterfell, followed him all the way to White Harbor, and stowed away on the ship taking him to King's Landing.
To hear the Captain tell it, she got caught a week into their voyage, but was unrecognizable as anything more than a stowaway, so the Captain put her to work earning her way, not even realizing that she was a young woman, let alone a noblewoman, let alone the younger daughter of the Warden of the North.
By the end of the mess of a story, Jon sighs and sheathes his sword, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"… Apologies for the trouble, good ser. And for drawing my blade on you. From the sound of things, you did nothing wrong. Have a good day."
With that, Jon steps back from the ship… Arya pressed closely to his side. When he looks down at her, she looks back at him with the biggest eyes he's ever fucking seen, practically begging him not to send her back. In the end, Jon just sighs and shakes his head.
"Sansa will decide your fate."
Arya both brightens up and shivers at that, before they turn and begin making their way off the dock. Of course, they barely make it five feet before Arya starts providing commentary…
"Ugh, it stinks just as much as they all said it would…"
"Heh. Ya should have smelt it a few months ago before the Imp got his grubby little fingers in the city's sewers. Was much worse back then. Stench is downright tolerable these days by comparison."
Seeing as that's not Jon's voice, both he and Arya whip around, only to stare in surprise at the white cloaked knight standing a few feet away. The Kingsguard had managed to sneak up on them somehow, despite being a clear foot taller than Jon and in full plate besides.
There's a lot of noise around them that could perhaps explain away him being able to hide the sound of his approach, but damn it all, Jon still should have been keeping a better eye out! Arya's presence had distracted him though, leaving him not quite as attentive as he should have been.
"You the crow Jon Snow?"
The man's face, half covered in burn scars, twists into something of a sardonic grin at his own little rhyme, even as Jon swallows thickly.
"… Aye, I am. And you must be the Hound."
It was hard not to know this man by sight. Everyone knew about Sandor Clegane and his burn scars, just as everyone knew he'd been knighted and then recruited to join the Kingsguard a while back as well. Jon thinks one of Sansa's letters even mentioned him being one of the King's favored sparring partners.
"That's me, yep. Didn't know you were bringing the Queen's sister with ya. Sounds like you didn't know either though, hah! C'mon."
Blinking, Jon looks to Arya, who blushes and is looking at her feet. But then he realizes he's being rather foolish just standing there staring, especially seeing as the Kingsguard has already turned and started walking away. As he and Arya hurry to catch up, Jon clears his throat.
"I'm here to speak with the King-!"
"Yeah, we know."
They knew? His father must have sent a raven ahead. But Jon had hoped to talk to Sansa first, to get her in his corner… in that regard, Arya actually might just prove to be a boon, he realizes.
"I hoped to meet with Queen Sansa first though before any sort of court appearance… especially with the unexpected presence of our sister."
"Aye, where do you think I'm taking you?"
Wait, what? As though sensing Jon's surprise, the Hound looks back over his shoulder at him and snorts derisively.
"Been coming down to the harbor every day for a week now waiting for your sorry ass to show up, Snow. Now quit dragging your feet and move. Unless you're aiming to keep the Queen waiting for you just as long!"
Jon blanches and when Ser Sandor redoubles his pace, the Northern bastard is quick to match him. The other man might have longer strides, but Jon has youth and vigor on his side… not to mention, a true sense of urgency. He's a little caught off guard by them seemingly already knowing that he was coming, but it doesn't necessarily seem like a BAD thing in the end…
Arya, meanwhile, struggles a bit, though not as much as to be expected. She keeps apace like her life depends on it; determination and resolve etched across her face. This does mean there's no time to talk though, either for Jon to admonish or Arya to beg for him to help her. Soon enough, they reach the Red Keep's front courtyard and true to the Hound's word…
"Jon!"
Jon's eyes widen as he's greeted by a broad smile and an even broader belly, even as he feels Arya hide her slim figure behind him instantly. His half-sister all but charges forward, arms spread for a hug. Jon though, is struck by her pregnant state, his eyes fixed on her belly.
"Sansa- ah, I mean… my Queen, I-!"
But Sansa reaches him and smacks him on the arm, hard.
"None of that now, Jon. Sansa to you, especially when we're not in public."
Jon wisely holds his tongue at that, but he does still look around the courtyard meaningfully, as it to say 'but aren't we in public?'. Of course, before the Queen can respond, Arya finally pokes out from behind Jon, letting Sansa lay eyes on her for the first time.
"Sansa, you're pregnant!"
Eyes bulging out of her skull, the gobsmacked look on Sansa's face is honestly almost worth the heart attack Jon nearly suffered down at the docks.
"Arya?! What are you doing here?! And why are you so filthy?!"
Flushing, Arya kicks the ground.
"… I ran away. Please don't send me back?"
Jon and Sansa share a look at that, with Jon just shrugging in response to the question in Sansa's eyes. As far as he was concerned, this mess was firmly in her hands now. He was just a brother of the Night's Watch. She was a Queen of the bloody Seven Kingdoms.
After a long moment, Sansa sighs.
"Ser Sandor."
"Your Grace?"
"Please take my sister to Lady Brienne."
Arya's face falls at that, no doubt conjuring up images of baths and dresses and embroidery circles. Jon though, thinks there's something familiar about the name 'Brienne'. Wasn't she…?
"What?! Sansa, I-!"
But Sansa overrides her.
"At this time of day, Lady Brienne should be practicing in the training yard, correct?"
The Hound nods.
"Aye."
"Good. Tell her I want my sister's sword skills assessed, please."
Arya looks like her Nameday has come early, eyes lit up in excitement and smile as wide as Jon has ever seen it. She barely even looks back at the two of them as Ser Sandor leads her away. Sansa, a very pregnant Sansa, just huffs and rolls her eyes good naturedly as they watch their sister disappear.
"Come on. We'll speak inside."
Right, good. That was… good. Arya was taken care of and now Jon could focus on the reason he'd come to King's Landing in the first place. Nothing too big, just the fate of the damn Realm…
"Yes, we should. I have dire news from beyond the Wall, Sansa."
"We know, Jon."
But Jon shakes his head this time. They might have known he was coming, but he doubted they knew everything. And he wasn't just talking about Arya stowing away either. Indeed…
"You don't know the half of it, Sansa."
Sansa gives him a look at that, before leading him further inside. By this point, the stench of King's Landing has faded completely up here on the hill that the Red Keep is situated. But Jon barely even notices, his guts tied in knots by this point. He just hopes he doesn't botch this somehow…
-x-X-x-
"Your Grace, thank you for meeting with me."
Axel smiles, already liking the look of Jon just right off the bat. But then to be fair, Sansa had had nothing but good things to say about her honorable half-brother. And Axel's own history as a bastard made him even more predisposed to the young man who was the namesake of the late Jon Arryn.
"Of course. Sansa said it was important. But first, tell me, have the Mountain Clans from the Vale settled into the New Gift yet?"
Sansa sits in the background of this meeting, a show of silent support for Axel as much as she is for Jon. His Northern Queen hadn't told him everything Jon had told her, but she'd certainly been a little shaken by whatever the Night's Watchman had to say. Of course, she was even more shaken up by the unexpected arrival of her younger sister at Jon's side.
Apparently Arya Stark had run away from home and stowed away on a ship. Might wind up being messy once they sent a letter to Winterfell letting them know where she was, but Axel would support whatever Sansa decided to do about that situation in the end. Still, the King would kick himself if he didn't at least ask after the Mountain Warriors that he'd sent North after Euron's War.
Jon blinks before hesitantly nodding.
"… Yes Your Grace. Or at least, I think they definitely should have by now. My uncle Benjen Stark, First Ranger of the Night's Watch, was tasked with taking the Mountain Clans north to the New Gift by Lord Stark, while I was tasked with coming south to speak with you. I have every confidence that the First Ranger will have done his duty to your satisfaction by now."
Good. That was good. With that out of the way, Axel leans forward, steepling his fingers together and resting his elbows on his knees.
"Alright then. Now tell me what you know of this King Beyond the Wall and his Wildling Army. What sort of threat do they seriously pose and what sort of timetable are we operating on here?"
Axel asks because… well, at this point Daenerys and her dragons are less than a week away from Westeros. Tyene's plan to lure the last Targaryen to Dorne has worked beautifully, with her responding favorably to House Martell's overtures. Just a couple days from now, he would be flying down to Dorne to help put the final touches on the preparations for her and her fleet's arrival.
If the Wildlings attacked in the next week or two, that would be rather… irritating. But given that his Mistresses of Whispers didn't think the problem was that dire or pressing and that allowing Jon to come all the way here was fine, Axel had high hopes that that wouldn't be the case.
Jon pauses in the face of his question… and then shakes his head.
"We… we have time before the wildlings will try to attack the Wall, Your Grace. They're getting closer to the Wall every day, but the truth is… the truth is, they don't WANT to attack it. They're just trying to survive."
Wait… what? Axel furrows his brow, honestly confused now.
"Explain."
Sansa looks like she's already heard this, worried as she is. But it's clear she wanted Axel to hear it from Jon's own mouth. And so he does. He listens as Jon talks about the dead rising from their graves and hunting down the living. He listens as the Northern Bastard talks of a Ranging gone bad, where he and his uncle would have both died to wights if not for the intervention of wildlings.
Jon goes on to explain how the wildlings talked of seeing Others, of laying eyes on the White Walkers from the Battle for the Dawn eight thousand years ago. Supposedly, the ice demons had come again to test the might of humans and they wouldn't care what blood flowed through their veins or what side of the Wall they were on either.
To his credit, Jon Snow is honest about not laying eyes on any White Walkers himself. Only the wights, dozens if not hundreds of them, all with glowing blue eyes and a hunger for the living that would not be beat. But he also seems to fully believe that the wildlings are telling the truth. That the Others come south once again to threaten all that they hold dear.
Axel… Axel doesn't immediately dismiss what Jon is telling him out of hand or anything like that. How can he when he himself walks the lands, the preeminent example of magic and mystical power returning to Westeros after so long? Between Euron's Kraken and Daenerys' Dragons, what were zombies created and controlled by ice demons? In the end… it was all just the same bullshit, really.
Leaning back in his chair, Axel frowns, thinking for a long moment after Jon finishes telling his tale. The Night's Watchman eyes him quietly, clearly not willing to speak up while Axel is pondering his words. Finally, Axel grunts.
"So the wildlings are gathering to demand passage through the Wall, is that it? They don't want to invade the North; they just want to save their miserable frostbitten lives."
Jon nods immediately, his eyes dark with determination.
"Yes, Your Grace."
Axel snorts in response, smiling slightly.
"Would you be willing to stake your life on that, Jon Snow?"
To his credit, Jon doesn't hesitate. He nods sharply yet again, his jaw setting.
"I… I would. I fully believe the majority of them don't want any trouble. They just want to live, Your Grace. Even their so-called King Beyond the Wall… he's a former brother of the Night's Watch. He might have deserted, but he's no savage, I don't think."
Tilting his head to the side, Axel hums.
"And the lives of every man, woman, and child in the North? Would you be willing to stake their lives as well?"
That finally gives Jon pause. He opens his mouth and then stops, hesitating to answer this time. Axel nods slowly, pleased with the response. It meant the other man wasn't a complete fool, at least. After letting the silence hang between them for a moment more, Axel continues on.
"Even if it is true, even if the Others have returned are raising an army of the dead as we speak, that doesn't make the living wildling army bearing down on the Wall any less dangerous to the North, now does it?"
It certainly didn't make Daenerys and her dragons any less dangerous. Axel couldn't be everywhere at once, unfortunately. He couldn't fight multiple battles at the same time. Fortunately, the situation up at the Wall didn't sound quite as sensitive as the one with Daenerys. He could make this work, even if it might end up being a little… tight in terms of timing.
"… No, Your Grace."
Axel grunts, pleased at that response. So far, he liked Jon Snow a lot. But to really get the measure of the man… Axel abruptly stands up, catching the Night's Watchman off guard.
"Get up, let's go."
As Jon rises, he shoots Sansa a confused look. Axel's Northern Queen just smiles and shakes her head in amusement, already knowing what's going on here. Axel, meanwhile, just grins.
"The nearest courtyard. You and I are going to have a spar, Jon Snow."
That causes the other man to jolt.
"A… a spar, Your Grace?"
"Aye, a spar. I'd hope you know your way around a sword given you have one at your waist."
"… I do, yes."
"Then come on. I want to get the measure of you and what better way than a proper fight?"
Jon doesn't say another word, just following Axel as Sansa trails behind them. A grin spreads across Axel's face as they go. He was spoiling for a good spar and while Jon couldn't really give him any sort of true challenge, that didn't mean the other man wouldn't be able to impress him anyways.
Axel was excited to see just what Sansa's brother could do…
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A/N: Axel now knows what he's up against. Just has to figure out how to deal with the different threats~
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