AN: So a much faster update than before, what can I say, I felt inspired! Not much more to say than that, I just hope you all enjoy the chapter and leave a review. Also feel free to PM me if you have any questions, I'm usually good at answering those.

On top of that, just to clarify, I've not made a mistake with some of the naming in this chapter, it is very much deliberate.

Other than that, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and please do check out my other stories if you have the time!

Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or Percy Jackson.

( - )

(Last Time)

Leaf let out a sharp intake of breath at that, her golden eyes dilating for a moment, before she moved forwards. Her burning hot lips meeting his, even as her arms moved around him, her weight and momentum bearing him back onto his bed.

Their magicks merging and wrapping around one another, even as Percy rolled over so he was on top of Leaf, bearing down on her, all thoughts and feelings of tiredness and exhaustion disappearing as he instead lost himself within Leaf's warmth. The elf's strong, bronze hands pulling him close as he tugged at the little clothing she still worse, her long, powerful leg's wrapping around him as they continued to kiss.

Two immortal souls, for just a moment, becoming one.

( - )

Chapter 25

( - )

(With Tytan/ Percy)

Waking up his bed alone the next morning, Percy found himself filled with boundless energy.

His skin, it seemed to tingle with barely suppressed vitality, and his heart beat strongly in his chest.

He felt alive!

In fact he felt more alive than he had done in, well, he didn't know how long! But definitely since before he fell into Tartarus.

He didn't feel tired or fatigued after his exertions the day before, or the night before for that matter.

A slight smile spread across Percy's face at that thought, even as he pushed himself off of his camp bed, the fur covers falling down around his naked body as he stood up and crossed the dimly lit tent.

His smile still present on his face as he then threw open the flap of his tent and basked in the bright morning sunlight, and the slight chill of the wind as it blew in through the opening, swirling around his naked form as he took a single deep breath, and then exhaled, releasing a massive plume of misty breath as he did so.

He felt energised, no he felt revitalised. Almost like the murky taint of Tartarus, a taint that had clung to his soul for all these years, had suddenly been banished.

Looking around at the already moving camp, Percy ignored the sniggers of Luke and Martin, both of whom were wearing full plate armour and flanking his tent. His loyal men as always protecting him, with this being in spite the fact that he could smell the stale alcohol and sweat that clung to the two chuckling men.

No doubt they were both still suffering after their festivities the night before.

Despite this though, he was heartened to see that they had still dragged themselves out of bed to fulfil their duties as his Sworn-swords, his most loyal band of men, his personal guards, his friends.

"Have a good evening then, Tytan?" Martin smirked, his face just visible through his metal helm as he smirked at Percy's naked form.

"A good evening for him maybe, his lady friend through, I doubt it!" Luke tagged on, an identical smirk on his face as he shifted his armoured head down, making it obvious that he wasn't looking at Percy's head, but instead at what he had between his legs.

"Come on be fair to the King, it is a very cold day! Besides, he might be a grower and not a 'shower'!" Martin remarked in amusement.

"Oh piss off!" Percy chuckled good-naturedly, clapping both of the men on the shoulders as he did so, jostling them slightly as he then looked around at the already busy camp. He could already see soldiers and camp followers moving about as they packed up the tents and loaded up the column's wagons with practiced ease. "Oh, and get one of the pages or squires to fetch me some hot water for a wash!"

With that said, Percy ignored the two men as they continued to chuckle at his expense, and instead returned to his empty tent to get ready for the day, a smile still on his face despite the fact his bed mate had already been gone by the time he awoke.

He would see her again quite soon, of that he had no doubt.

( - )

(In Essos)

Standing on the balcony of Xaro's grand manse in Qarth, Daenerys Targaryen stared out at the beautiful blueish green sea, her violet eyes admiring the way the sun reflected down and made the smooth, beautiful waters glisten.

Smiling at this sight, Daenerys absentmindedly reached out and stroked the heads of her two draconic children, Drogon and Rhaegal. Both of the dragons, each of which were now over a metre in length, purring like cats and nuzzling her hands as she alternated between stroking the head of the larger black drake, Drogon, and scratching the slightly smaller, golden dragon, Rhaegal, under his chin.

She had been staying at the manse in Qarth for several months now, and had slowly begun to fall in love with the bustling, merchant city.

She was content here.

Unfortunately though, that contentedness was becoming a problem.

She was still a guest here, she knew that, just as she knew that Xaro, despite his apparent kindness and generosity, would not continue to host her for nothing. He was a wily merchant after all, the kind of man who never did anything, unless it benefited him in someway.

On top of that she knew her remaining followers, her small Khalasar were also becoming restless. Dothraki were not meant for city living, they were nomads by nature. They liked to remain on the move, living off the land where necessary, and raiding where possible.

The sedentary life they had been living in Qarth was starting to grate on them. She had already begun to see that, even before her friend, Dorea had told as such just the other day.

If she didn't move on soon, she was in danger of losing some of her few remaining followers.

Shifting her gaze from the distant horizon, Daenerys instead turned her attention closer to the shore. Her gaze drifting to the moderately sized fleet of war galleys that were all either docked up, or still anchored up in Qarth's sheltered bay.

Squinting her eyes, she could just about see movement on some of the boats, as the sailors on board cleaned and maintained the decks, even as others took longboats to and from the shore, as the delivered supplies to the anchored up ships.

This was Stannis Baratheon's fleet.

Her gaze shifted from the galley's busy decks, to the banners and pennants she could see sailing from the masts, every single one showing a simple prancing stag, which was trapped within a heart of fire.

No, it wasn't Stannis Baratheon's fleet, it was R'hllor, the Lord of Light's fleet.

Daenerys's smile faded slightly at that thought.

The fleet had been here in Qarth for more than a week now, and during that time Stannis, his advisor, the Red Priestess, Melisandre, and his right hand man, Davos Seaworthy, had been staying as guests in Xaro's palatial manse.

A frown spread across her face as she remembered the last few days of talks and negotiations she had been having with Stannis and his entourage.

She didn't particularly like Stannis Baratheon. He was far too serious and dour, and constantly came across as always miserable and irritable.

Though of course her opinion of him was admittedly somewhat tainted, after all she remembered what her brother once had told her, about how it had been Stannis and his army that had besieged the remaining Targaryen's on Dragonstone, and forced Ser Willem Darry, King Aerys Targaryen's former Master-at-Arms, to flee to Essos with both Viserys and herself.

This man, Robert Baratheon's brother, was one of the men responsible for chasing her from her homeland, and her rightful place on the throne!

Still, despite not particularly liking him, she at least thought he was trustworthy enough. On top of which he seemed to have honour, and resolve too, enough for him to turn his back on the usurper's spawn, his own nephew, as well as on his own positon and standing in the Seven Kingdoms, and instead cross the Narrow Sea to join her, the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

That she knew, she could respect. He, unlike many other craven, cowardly nobles, had the honour and integrity to support the only true, legitimate claimant to the Iron Throne.

Though admittedly, like Xaro, she suspected that Stannis would want something in return for his ships and men.

What that was though she would have to wait and see.

Closing her eyes at that thought, she then forcefully relaxed her face, allowing her frown to wash away, as she instead began to think on his companions.

Davos Seaworthy, he was a simple, but seemingly kind man. In many ways, he reminded favourably of the late Ser Jora Mormont, a close friend and confidant of hers, who even now she missed.

Melisandre the Red Priestess though, she was a different matter entirely. Something about the woman made her skin crawl. It might be the fanaticism she could see burning in her cold, callous eyes, or the sheer amount of passion and resolve with which she spoke, when talking about their plans for the future, and of burning the non-believers and heretics.

Something about the woman made her uncomfortable.

That said the same could be said for her other allies, the purple lipped warlocks from the House of the Undying here in Qarth.

She had only met a few of their number over the last month or so, with the head warlock, Pyat Pree, a stick thin, bald man, with protuberant eyes, and lips that had been dyed purple, being the group's primary representative.

Like Melisandre the man was far too intense, and a fanatic. Unlike the Red Priestess though who constantly spoke of fighting the rising darkness in Westeros and purging the heretics that did not stand against the 'oncoming night', Pyat Pree didn't seem to have a cause. Instead his fanaticism seemed to revolve around the continued empowerment, and increasing prominence of the House of the Undying.

Not that this was apparently a new phenomenon, Xaro had once taken her aside whilst Pyat Pree and Melisandre were arguing, as had become a usual occurrence, and had told her about how the warlocks here in Qarth, like the Red Priests and Priestesses across Essos, had all been gradually and steadily growing in power and prominence for nearly nineteen years now.

Similarly he had told her that there were other religions and groups here in Essos who had been likewise affected as magic apparently returned to the world for the first time in centuries. A miracle that had only been getting more noticeable as the years passed, with the emergence of the dragons and passing of the red comet once again causing the already resurgent magic, to become even stronger.

It was fascinating really.

Not that she understood much of it.

Unfortunately, although the blood and magic of old Valyria might flow through her veins. As far as she knew, save for being untouched by fire, she did not have any special powers or abilities to boast of.

Which was an especially grating thought considering that the usurper's spawn, Tytan Baratheon had been 'blessed' by the Seven Divines. Or had apparently been blessed, as Melisandre seemed to think otherwise, and instead claimed that he had been tainted by the Dark Ones and was merely the pawn of the Long Night.

Not that Daenerys knew what the off-putting woman meant by that. Then again the red-haired priestess tended to blither on about such nonsense all the time, so it probably had something to do with burning heretics and non-believers to empower the true believers, the disciples of the Lord of Light.

Letting out another sigh as these thoughts assailed her, Daenerys braced herself against the wall of the balcony and once again looked out to sea.

She had certainly attracted an eclectic group of followers and supporters if nothing else.

Still, she mused as she traced her finger along the wind worn surface of the balustrade, any support was good support, and soon she would be getting even more.

A grimace spread across her face at that.

Not only at the fact that her contentedness her in Qarth would soon be coming to an end, but also at the destination she would be going to next.

Slaver's Bay.

Soon enough she and her Khalasar would be joining Stannis and his fleet, Xaro's mercenary forces, and a number of disciples from the House of the Undying, as they headed for the infamous bay to bolster their growing forces with a vast slave army.

Once again Daenerys had to hold back a grimace at the very idea of such a thing.

Still, beggars could not be choosers, and although she was nominally the leader, the Queen of this army, she was not the only one that decided on their direction, or at least not yet.

Instead she was just a member of a growing coalition of interested parties, all of whom were working to put her on the Iron Throne, in order for them to achieve their own goals and ambitions.

It was not the ideal situation, but at least it was one that would allow her to reclaim her family's ancestral seat, the Iron Throne, and re-establish the ancient and mighty House Targaryen in Westeros!

( - )

(With the King's Column)

The sound of steel on steel cut through the midmorning air, drawing the attention of numerous camp followers and soldiers as men and women looked up from their duties as they gamely packed up the tents and loaded up the column's wagons, and instead over in the direction of the commotion.

With few of them continuing to watch for a moment, before going back to what they had been doing before.

The morning was cold, and dew clung to the grass and trees around them, creating a damp and unpleasant atmosphere.

No one wanted to linger for long, especially not when the capital was only twenty or so leagues away as the raven flies.

In fact the sooner they packed up camp, the sooner they would be on the road, and thus the sooner they would be back in the warm, if admittedly smelly, streets of King's Landing.

A couple of others however, those who had either already finished their duties for the morning or in some cases not started them yet as they waited for the column to get moving, wandered over to the source of the disturbance to watch.

( - )

(With Percy)

Twisting his sword in his hand, Percy moved with fluid ease deflecting a thrust from his Uncle Jamie towards the ground with a flick of his sword's blade, opening the other man's chest up for a counterstrike. A counterstrike which he swiftly delivered by way of a sudden shoulder to the blonde man's chest, causing the season knight to stagger back a few steps.

Not pausing, Percy twisted on his heel, his blade flashing from low to high as he met Matthias's sword mid-swing and knocked it away from him. His own blade twirling in his hand, as he used the momentum from the blocking swing to turn and bat Luke's questing sword away from him as he made a lunge, opening Luke's guard up for a heavy, gauntleted punch to the side of his armoured head.

The blow creating a loud, clang, even as it rung Luke's skull, the force of the punch and sending him staggering back a few steps, and then sprawling onto the ground as he tripped over his own two feet. His sword landing in the mud beside him, as he instead pulled his dented helmet off and held his head.

"That felt unnecessary!" Luke gasped out, his ears still ringing as he continued to hold his head.

"Maybe!" Percy shouted, whipping around again and trading several more parries with his Uncle Jamie, manoeuvring the armoured blonde around so he was standing between Matthias and himself.

An act Jamie seemed to see through as with a barely visible grin on his face he sidestepped, allowing Matthias to charge past him mid-lunge.

"Nice try!" Percy shouted, batting the sword thrust aside at the same time that he moved to one side, mirroring his Uncle's moves. Incidentally tripping Matthias up as he did so, and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Switch!" A loud voice bellowed, the sound causing both Percy and Jamie to flinch for a moment, even as the bearded, bear of a man, Ubba, charged forward a double-bladed axe in his hands.

Grinning at this Jamie went for one last strike at Percy, forcing the King to turn and deflect it, before the Lannister man then backed away allowing the giant warrior from the Vale to take his place. Ubba's thankfully blunted axe, swinging through the air with a slight whistle as he swung it at Percy's plate armoured chest. Not that it being blunt was much of a comfort, as a heavy weapon like that could still dent and damage his armour, and crack or break his ribs if it landed.

Back stepping quickly Percy allowed the axe to swing passed him, his eyes narrowing as he then stepped forward and into the much larger man's guard, his right hand already swinging around as he unleashed a brutal punch into Ubba's armoured side with the hilt of his sword, the sword's crossguard bending slightly from the force of the blow, even as Percy was forced to back off again.

"Shit!" Percy cursed, back tracking now as he found himself fighting off Jamie, Matthias and the now recovered Luke. His borrowed blade a blur of silver fury as he parried and deflected numerous strikes, with him continual using his footwork to force the trio of attackers into one another's ways, breaking up any teamwork as he struggled to fight three skilled swordsmen at the same time.

"Got you!" Another voice called out behind him, with Martin rushing forward now, a grin on his face as he swung his own bastard sword at Percy's exposed back.

Hearing the shout, Percy twisted on his heel, avoiding the swing deftly, before he tripped the overly enthusiastic Martin and sent him crashing onto the floor at Jamie's feet.

"You know idiot, shouting when you're attacking someone from behind, somewhat what defeats the purpose of a surprise attack." Jamie said dryly, Matthias letting out a bark of laughter from beside him as he did so.

"True, true," Martin nodded mildly, accepting the grinning Ubba's hand as the giant, bearded man grinned at him and then pulled him roughly back onto his feet. The five men then turning to face Percy, all of them with their swords at the ready.

"Shield!" Percy called out to a watching squire, a grin spreading across his face as he rolled his armoured shoulders, and then slotted his left arm into the leather loops of a round, metal rimmed, wooden shield that a random knight's squire ran over to give him.

"I thought you said no shields?" Luke huffed out from Jamie's other side, what little of his face that was visible beneath his helmet, notably still flushed and red.

"I've changed my mind," Percy replied easily, slamming the flat blade of his sword into his shield as he did so, creating a loud clang. "Now come at me, if you dare!"

"Five against one, I fancy our chances!" Jamie smirked, twirling his blade in his hand, before he then held it horizontally in both hands, the tip pointed at Percy's helmeted head.

"Get ready to be put on your blessed, royal arse!" Ubba grunted, the giant man of the Vale hefting his heavy axe in his hands, even as his fellows all readied their swords.

From around the edges of the impromptu arena, those that hadn't already been packing up camp for the final leg of the journey, started gathering around. Enthusiastic muttering beginning to spread through the crowd as Goldcloaks, warriors from other Houses, servants and camp followers began to make bets and predictions.

From where he was stood, Percy could see Tywin, Mace Tyrell and Lord Yohn Royce were now watching, along with their entourages, and the retainers they had brought along with them, including Percy's brother, Joffrey.

Elsewhere around the crowd, Percy could see other minor Lords and knights had also gathered up to watch the now common sight of the King sparring with his swornswords.

All of those in the immediate vicinity that didn't have duties to do, and that were still interested in the sparring sessions Percy had with his sworn-men every couple of days, quickly gathering around to watch now as things looked to be coming to a close.

Smirking at Ubba, Percy let his comment go, despite it being made in a relatively public place.

A lesser man would have reacted, and shouted and sworn, and then demanded an apology so as to save face and maintain their reputation.

Percy though didn't care, at least not when the words were coming from one of his favoured men. Were they to have come from a hedge knight or another man not in his favour however, well things would be different then, and he would be forced to take action so as to protect his reputation and standing.

Fortunately though that wasn't the case, Ubba was a known favourite of his. On top of which the bearded man would soon be publically eating those words anyway.

"Come at me!" Percy challenged, his gaze momentarily flicking to the side once again. This time moving to the branches of a nearby tree within which he could see a golden eyed hawk watching him, her golden eyes showing hints of amusement that would otherwise be alien to such a creature.

"Take him as one!" Jamie called out, a grin on his face as he and the other four men advanced.

Smirking at this Percy glanced up at the sky, a slight lurch going through his stomach as he did so.

In response a sudden cold wind whistled through the immediate area, rippling the flags and pennants on the nearby wagons and carriages, and causing horses to begin to neigh and buck.

At the same time as this commotion happened, the steel grey sky over head began to darken, the noticeably clouds thickening, roiling and swirling around, the wind on the ground once again blowing about harshly, even as the first droplets of rain began to fall.

"Now that really is cheating!" Jamie smirked, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe," Percy grinned as the rain began to fall faster, the droplets seeping unnaturally through he chainmail beneath his plate armour as they did so. With some of those watching letting out shouts and running for cover as rain continued to fall in the immediate area, even as others, like Tywin, seemed to lean forwards in anticipation.

"Aww shit!" Luke grumbled, as he held a hand out and saw the rain pattering onto his hand. "This is going to hurt!"

"We can still take him!" Ubba grunted.

"Yes we can, if we stick to the plan and take him together…" Jamie began to say, only to be interrupted by Ubba as he let out a wild, incomprehensible roar and charged straight at Percy, his axe.

"…or not." Jamie sighed, before he gripped his sword tighter and joined the others as they chased after the roaring giant. "Dammit, Ubba!"

Gripping his shield tighter, Percy watched Ubba rush him. The massive man of the Vale's movements seeming almost sluggish as he closed the distance, the weight of his armour meaning little to the giant as he got within range of Percy and swung his axe.

Seeing this, Percy made his move. His green eyes narrowing as he leant back allowing the axe blow, one that would fell a normal man, miss him. After which he then lashed out with his shield, hitting the man face on with the metal rimmed board, the force of the blowing knocking the other man clear off of his feet, incidentally shattering the shield as he did so.

"Flimsy piece of shit…" Percy muttered, beginning shaking his hand free of the remnants of the shield, just as the other four almost got within striking distance.

Smirking at this, Percy threw the remnants of the shield at Jamie forcing the blonde knight to pause as he knocked the ragged mess of metal and wood out of the air.

At the same time as he did this, Percy darted forwards, moving far faster than even the fastest of normal men as he parried and blocked Luke's strike, before responding with anther thunderous punch to the head, sending him crash back to the ground with a groan.

Twisting on his heel at this, Percy duelled Jamie, Martin and Matthias at the same time, his blade a blur and his movements almost reminiscent of a dance, a dance of death, as he weaved passed strikes that should have hit him, only to respond with a blister flurry of slashes and thrust. The sheer speed and ferocity of his assault driving the three trained and hardened warriors back.

Their fight, which initially looked to be a stalemate, rapidly beginning to turn in Percy's favour as with a twist of his blade he got his sword under and around Matthias's blade, allowing him to then disarm the other man with just a flick of his wrist.

"As one!" Jamie shouted to Martin.

Martin nodding in response, a frown of concentration on his face, and his arms beginning to shake as Percy unleashed a barrage of attacks on him, every one shaking his sword and deadening his arm. Every blow chipping away at his defence, until barely moments after assault started, Percy swept his sword aside and then grabbed him by the top lip of his breastplate with his freehand and then in a display of supernatural strength dragged him clear off of his feet and threw him several metres across the ground, sending him crashing down into the mud.

"And then there was one!" Percy grinned, his smile cheeky now as he saw his Uncle sizing him up.

"You fancy your chances do you?" Jamie said mildly, twirling his blade.

The Lannister man already knew he had lost, that much was obvious, but in spite of that Percy knew that his Uncle was too proud and stubborn to just admit defeat and quit.

It was something he could understand, he too hated to lose.

Raising his sword into the air above his head, Percy just grinned, even as the clouds above began to darken and swirl about even more.

"What are you up to, Tytan?" Jamie asked suspiciously.

Around the edge of the arena, Percy could hear those that had stayed despite the rain, muttering the same thing, or at least something similar.

"Just trying something new." Percy replied mildly, the smile still on his face.

"Why I do feel the urge to suddenly runaway?" Jamie pressed on, his voice dry and sarcastic as he raised his sword in front of him.

"You'll see, or at least you will if this works." Percy laughed, before suddenly he let out a yell and thrust his sword up into the sky.

In response thunder boomed out over head, the sound causing those below to flinch and start to panic, only for that panic to turn into a mixture of shock, surprise and fear as a bolt of lightning erupted forth from the dark clouds up above and arced down to strike the uplifted tip of Percy's sword.

"Fuck!" Percy shouted, as he tore his sword down, acutely aware of the castleforged steel glowing red, and beginning to warp and melt in places, even as he felt lightning flowing through his body.

It felt like molten metal was flowing through his veins. Energising and burning his nerves and muscles, the excess crackling over his armour like static, even as he pointed the glowing, half melted remains of his sword at Jamie.

To those around him, the sight of Percy clad in faintly smoking armour, small bolts of lightning crackling over the surface, and occasionally arcing off of him to scorch the earth below, must have been especially impressive. As with a glance to the side, he could see some people sinking to their knees, and starting calling out prays, whilst others just made the seven pointed star.

Tywin Lannister, especially, looked like someone had just offered him his family's long lost sword, Bright Roar, back as he watched on in prideful satisfaction.

As for Jamie, without a word the blonde threw his sword on the ground at Percy's feet. "I surrender"

"Really!" Percy groaned, gritting his teeth as he did so, before moments later he thrust his hand out and channelled the remaining lightning from the storm overhead out of his body, and into the ground.

"By the Seven yes! The moment you start pulling lightning from the sky and wielding it like a normal man would a sword, is the moment I give up!" Jamie replied bluntly, a slight smirk on his face as he saw the disappointment on the King's regal face.

"Spoilsport." Percy grumbled, dropping the melted lump of metal that had once been a sword on the ground as he did so, even as his sparring partners slowly got back to their feet, many of them grumbling and mumbling about 'cheating Kings'. "Still, it was a good fight!"

"Aye, it was good, but I'll be feeling it for a while." Luke commented, ignoring the applauding and cheering of the onlookers as he instead pulled off his helmet and massaged his head. "Did you really have to hit me so hard?"

"What are you talking about? That was barely a tap!" Ubba laughed, the bearded bear of a man back on his feet and grinning as he reclaimed his dropped axe.

"A tap he says, I'll show him a tap!" Luke grumbled under his breath, much to the other men's amusement as they continued to laugh and joke around.

The crowd around them slowly dispersing as people went to finish off the final preparations for the last leg of column's journey back to the Capital.

That said, Percy could see a number of the Lords and knights headed over to him and his men to congratulate them, even as the skies above them cleared up and returned to the grey, overcast weather that it had been previously.

Seeing this Percy withheld a sigh.

Only one more day and they would be back at the Capital and he would be more easily able to avoid all the arse kissing, politicking nobles, or at least he would for a while, as he could shirk some of his lesser responsibilities onto his Small Council.

The more important nobles however, like Tywin and Mace, they would be harder to shake off, even when they did get back to the Capital.

( - )

(Up at the Wall)

Standing grimly atop of the Wall, Ned Stark pulled his fur cloak tighter around him as he looked out over the edge and saw Jeor Mormont and his one thousand strong column of soldier marching out, and away from the safety of the Wall and through the spindly branched forest, and out into the vastness of the land beyond the Wall.

"Well Lord Stark, the Wall is now under your command." Benjen said wryly from beside him. His brother likewise wrapped up as he tiredly watched the massive party disappearing into the forest.

Sending Benjen a sideways look at that, Ned couldn't help by smile a bit.

His stoic disposition cracking for a single instant as he revelled in the pleasure of once again being with his brother, a man he had not spoken to properly in decades, not since he volunteered to take the Black and come to the Wall.

"Not that there is really much to command, it's much just administration at this point." Benjen continued dryly, idly scratching at his scruffy black beard as the last of Jeor's patrol disappeared into the forest.

"Maybe," Ned replied, his smile fading as he stared out in the bleak wilderness beyond the Wall. "But I think we should still remain vigilant. With Mance Rayder out there, and the White Walkers on the move…"

"Yes, being vigilant is good." Benjen nodded, his own smile fading too. "Every day the legion of the dead grows as they head south. Still, so long as we have the Wall and keep it well defended the Kingdoms of the south will remain safe."

"So long as the Wall remains unbreached," Ned commented grimly.

"You think it isn't safe?" Benjen asked curiously. "From what Maester Aemon has said, this Wall is more than just a physical wall, it is one that has been enchanted too, by the Children of the Forest eons ago, enchanted to keep the dead and the foul creatures that lie beyond it at bay."

"It's not the White Walkers that have me nervous," Ned replied, making sure to take note of that little facet as he did so.

He would need to find the Wall's Maester and have a long conversation with Aemon, not just so he could find out more about the Wall, but also in case he could find out more about their enemy, the creatures that bring with them the Long Night.

Ned had to withhold a scoff at that thought.

A part of him after all, still struggled to believe that the White Walkers, the fairy tale monsters that had terrified him as a child, were real, even if deep down he believed Jeor and Benjen when they told him they were.

"You're worried about Mance then?" Benjen asked softly, following Ned as he turned away from the view beyond the Wall and instead headed for the platform that would take them back down to Castle Black.

"Jeor said he was a former member of the Night's Watch. He knows the defences, and will have a basic idea about military tactics. With a force of potentially tens of thousands of Wildlings behind him, and who knows what else he has managed to scrounge up, he could be a threat." Ned replied, nodding curtly to the waiting Brother at the side of the platform, Benjen doing likewise as the platform then began to slowly descend. The trundle and scrapping of rusted iron cogs sounding out loudly as the platform lowered.

"Ha, Ned, this isn't just any castle or fort. This is the Wall, it's five hundred metres tall and fifty metres wide at its thickest. The positon is unassailable, especially with thousands armed and trained Brothers manning it!" Benjen chuckled, shaking his head.

"Maybe, but the same was said about the Eyrie, and you know what happened there…?" Ned replied, turning to face his brother now.

"Yes, well," Benjen coughed, the amusement rapidly leaving his face now. They had only just heard this morning about the fate of the Eyrie, and about how King Tytan Baratheon the Blessed has used his gods given abilities to bring down not just bring down the citadel, but the mountain upon which it sat. "That is a different matter entirely."

"Hmm," Ned hummed, a scowl flitting across his face at the thought of what befell his good sister and his nephew.

They had been traitors to the Crown, yes.

But still the boy was an innocent, a child!

He shouldn't have just been killed out of hand by the King. Just the thought of it left a bitter taste in his mouth, even as he remembered how Tytan's father, Robert, had once demanded that he kill the pregnant Targaryen girl, and her brother, too.

Like father like son, Ned thought glumly to himself as the platform rattled to a stop and he stepped off of it, with Benjen still at his side.

"Lord Stark," The black cloaked Brother at the bottom nodded curtly.

"You have my thanks," Ned replied idly, his gaze flicking to the man in question for a moment, before he then looked out at the courtyard and saw his 'son', Jon, currently training with some other Brothers, many of whom had been the ones that had just returned from the patrol just a few days previously.

"So are you going to tell him?" Benjen said softly from beside him, his voice startling Ned for a second as he tore his gaze away from the smiling Jon, and the similarly aged men he was training with, and instead to his grim faced brother.

"Tell him about what?" Ned asked, starting forwards again as the two of them descended from the platform and into the castle's courtyard.

"About his mother," Benjen replied. "You promised the boy you would tell him about her the next time you saw him."

"He told you that did he?" Ned asked softly, his gaze moving back to Jon for a moment, before it then panned across to where the Mountain was lounging against a nearby wall with a number of other brutish looking men.

"He deserves to know, Ned. He's a man now, he's old enough to know where he came from, and about both his mother…, and father." Benjen continued, his words making Ned freeze up for a moment.

Looking sideways at the man, Ned narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Don't look at me like that, Ned. I grew up with you! I know you, and I know our sister. That boy may be all Stark in his appearance, but he's not your son in blood. I know that you're too honourable to sire a bastard like you claim you did. Besides, there is too much of our sister in there to be a coincidence." Benjen said quietly, his grey eyes flitting around their surroundings for a moment as he and Ned came to a stop, a safe distance from anyone else.

"You don't know of the danger of what you speak" Ned hissed quietly at his brother.

Taking that as confirmation of this theory, Benjen shook his head. "Robert is dead Ned, and Tytan has no reason to hate the Targaryens like his father did, nor did he ever love Lyanna, and so doesn't have his hurt pride at stake either."

"No, but Tytan is far more ruthless than Robert ever was." Ned shook his head, his expression grim. "He might look like a Baratheon in body, but his soul is tainted. There is a lot of his grandfather, Tywin, in him."

"You think he might see Jon as a threat and have him killed, even when he's up here at the Wall?" Benjen asked seriously, once again looking around to make sure that they weren't being overheard.

"Like you said before, there is not much love for the King at the Wall, not after he sent so many of them up here, and he probably knows it too. If Tytan ever finds out about Jon, then he might think that he could ferment a rebellion up here. He's certainly ruthless and paranoid enough too." Ned said grimly.

He was thankful to Tytan for giving him his life, and not having him executed and his family's name dragged through the muck for his part in Baelish, Varys and Pycelle's plot, but he couldn't deny what he knew of the younger man. He was too dangerous to provoke.

"So I was right then, he is Lyanna's son, which makes his father…" Benjen began, before he grimaced and refused to say the name.

"Yes, but not by rape, but through the actions of a man lying lovingly with his wife." Ned said quietly, his gaze once again on the cheerfully laughing Jon.

Was it really fair to place this burden, and birth right, on the boy's shoulders?

More importantly though, was it safe?

"Man and wife!?" Benjen hissed, pitching his voice so low now that Ned could barely hear him.

"And now you see the problem." Ned muttered.

"Yes, yes I do." Benjen said softly, looking away from Ned now and instead at the boy who reminded him so much of his sister, Lyanna.

( - )

(In King's Landing)

Riding through the gates of King's Landing, a bright smile spread across Percy's face as he sat astride his strutting steed, his antlered helmet under one arm, whilst his other arm was raised in greeting to the thronging, cheering crowds around him.

His actions earning him an even louder cheer as tens of thousands of people lined the streets of King's Landing, and leaned out of the windows of the tall town houses that lined the main road, that led from the gate to the Red Keep.

Continuing to wave, Percy and his guard continued to lead the column as the conquering army reached their destination. The Lords and knight behind him joining him as they filtered in through the gates and into the heaving Capital, waving and greeting the crowd as they did so.

Raising his hand, Percy caught some of the rose petals that were being thrown from some of the buildings, his grin widening as he smelt the petal for a moment, taking in its sweet scent, before allowing it to flutter to the ground.

Truly this was a reception.

"Looks like you're popular." Jamie said idly from his side, with the blonde knight looking quite resplendent himself in his gleaming Kingsguard amour.

"He's the fucking, Mountain King! What do you expect!?" Matthias laugh from just behind him as their column continued on through the streets of the celebrating King's Landing and then began to traverse through the gateway and into the courtyard of the Red Keep, where Percy could already see that the entire Court, including his mother, sister and Small Council, had gathered to greet him.

Ignoring his companions as they began to argue good-naturedly together, Percy instead waved and smiled at his family as he approached. His gaze roving along their number, before it came to rest on his bride to be, Margery Tyrell, the beautiful flower of the Reach.

His smiling widening slightly as he saw her doe like eyes fixed on him, a demure smile on her own face as she then gave him a pronounced curtsy, even as a number of others sank to their knees, or bowed, or curtsied themselves.

The King had come home.

Swinging himself off of his horse, Percy surveyed all those arrayed before him for a moment, his smiling widening slightly as he saw his man, Ivar standing just behind his mother, even as he turned his head slightly and saw a golden eyed hawk staring amusedly down at him from where she was perched on one of the statues that flanked the Red Keeps doors.

Yes, he was definitely home.

( - )

AN: So what do you all think? I'll be honest I was hoping to have a scene in Winterfell too, but decided to leave that till next chapter. Hope you all liked this chapter though, as it gave a look at the three main story lines going on in this story at the moment, the Essos story line, the Wall story line, and the King's Landing story line. Naturally Percy/ Tytan's story line will get the most focus, but I still think it is important to see how the others are getting along, after all they are all relevant to the plot going forward.

Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and leave a review, if not, ahh well, you can't please everyone. Also do check out my other stories if you fancy, there might be something there you enjoy!

Thanks a lot for reading, and I'm sure you'll get another update soon.

Greed720.