The Witch-King of the Vale [GoT x LotR] Chapter 23 20

The training sessions were going excellently. My past life had given not only burdens but advantages as well. Núnóreans lived an average of two hundred years, and I had been one of them. What little of that blood remained in was enough to make better than most. And with the knowledge of a wraith who had been the finest swordsman of his age, I was stronger, faster, and looked older than my years.

The first ti a Royce household guard faced , he did not take seriously, and regretted it very quickly. There is nothing pleasant about a veteran of the rebellion landing on his backside because of a ten-year-old boy. After that small demonstration things went better. No one coddled anymore, and they ca at with everything they had.

On average I was winning seven bouts out of ten. That was a remarkable result for a child of ten. Brimming with confidence, I challenged Uncle Yohn to a duel. It was humbling. Whatever I tried, however hard I worked, he put down cleanly and swiftly every ti. I could not understand how an ordinary man without magic could be that strong and fast. Though that was not entirely fair: Uncle Yohn did have a trace of magic in him, but even if he had been a master of it, magic alone could not account for what he was capable of.

I often had supper with King Robert, who had always shown a fervent liking towards . In those monts I listened to him complain about life, and more often about the fawning courtiers. Robert admitted that he had enjoyed the flattery in the first month, but quickly grew tired of hearing the sa sycophants. The only people who were honest with him and spoke to him plainly were Ned and my father. He made swear that I would always be straight with him. So I told him about my situation imdiately and asked him to arrange for to be fostered at Winterfell. He grumbled a little because of his falling out with Ned, but agreed in the end. Robert was looking forward to Ned's return more than anyone, for Ned would be bringing Lyanna Stark with him, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Whenever Rob spoke of her, he turned into a lovesick fool with a vacant look on his face.

My eting with Lysa Tully was... nothing at all. I greeted her, spent the minimum ti required, and went back to my own affairs. I will not deny it: Lysa was fairly attractive, slender, blue-eyed, with high cheekbones, dimples, and thick golden hair that fell to her waist. But the impression was ruined by her history and her eyes. The story of the miscarriage had not spread widely, and I kept quiet about it to spare Father any sha. Her eyes were dull and watery, which gave the impression of looking at a dead fish. In short, I had never liked her, and now I liked her even less.

The arrival of Eddard Stark brought grief and a heavy quiet with it. Ned had not been in ti: his sister was already dead when he reached her. There had been a battle between Ned's party and the Kingsguard. Only Eddard Stark and Howland Reed had co out alive. Ned had defeated Ser Arthur Dayne. Dawn had lost to the Quiet Wolf. Afterward Ned returned the ancestral sword to the Daynes and ca ho with bastard twins. He even nad them after my father and mother. I did not know quite what to make of that. In the end the title of "most honorable man in the realm" belonged to Eddard Stark, with Jon and Elena Snow thrown in as part of the arrangent.

I began working on my plan to be fostered at Winterfell, but Robert was thoroughly drunk and in no state to help , while Ned refused with one excuse after another. I told him what would happen to if he did not, but Eddard Stark once again chose not to help and left to it, and Ned departed for his North without waiting for my father to return.

A week later the worst storm in a hundred and fifty years broke over Dragonstone. It finished off what remained of the Targaryen fleet entirely. It was now only a question of when the Targaryens would beco history. During the storm Queen Rhaella, wife of Aerys the Mad, died giving birth to a small girl. The na was unknown, but the news was enough to pull Robert out of his drunken haze. He ordered his younger brother Stannis Baratheon to combine his fleet with the Redwyne fleet, the very n who had lately been besieging him, and strike Dragonstone, the last Targaryen stronghold in Westeros.

While the fleet sailed off to finish the dragons, my father arrived from Dorne. He brought written guarantees that Dorne acknowledged Robert Baratheon as its king. It caused a sensation, because with that the war was officially over and House Baratheon was the new royal house. All the courtiers turned out to et him. To thunderous applause he dismounted, knelt, and said: "Your Grace, Dorne is brought to your hand." Robert cared nothing for palace etiquette and hauled Father to his feet and embraced him. The smallfolk outside roared even louder.

Father spent two weeks sorting through everything that had piled up in his absence. His strong desire to spend as much ti as possible with , and his excessive interest in my affairs, left quite certain that I was being sent to the Lannisters. So I made myself a permanent fixture in his study. He worked while I read. As he went along he explained the finer points of governing a region and a country. On the very first day he walked through a detailed assessnt of my ti governing the Vale. With every situation we discussed I grew more embarrassed. Father said it was not all bad and in places quite good, but there had been serious problems with how I had gone about things, and he asked not to repeat them.