The Lost Stark

The choices we make.

~Ryker
True to his word, Condon had managed to reach Driftmark and return with Rickon within hours. Though it seemed like the early hours of the morning, the darkness outside suggested nighttime. I had just finished supper when word arrived that their ships were unloading. Truth is I would rather be here than in Daenerys's room waiting for news to come.
"What were you thinking?" I playfully asked Rickon, ruffling his curly hair.
"I overheard some workers mentioning they were going there to refill our stores, and I wanted to see the Driftwood Throne and High Tide." He shrugged, looking down at the sand. "I brought Alexandria and a guard, I thought I would be alright."
With a sigh, I lifted his chin to meet my gaze. "Next time, talk to us. Who knows, maybe I would've liked to see it too," I told him, giving a smile.
"We can go back!" He exclaimed happily. "They say the ports aren't what they used to be before the dance, but they still hold good trades."
"Give me a chance to talk to your mother."
"I'm not in trouble?" He asked, hope filling his eyes.
Giving him a grin, I threw my arm over his shoulder, guiding him back to the castle. "Not with me. However, your mother and Margaery were so worried; if I were you, I would be expecting a good talking to."
"Oh."
"Uh-huh," I affirmed.
"Well, at least I didn't steal a dragon and an army," he stated, making me laugh.
"No, no, you didn't," I managed between chuckles. "You want to play tiles tomorrow?" I ask once my laughter faded silently praying that he would want me to spend time with him in order not to deal with a fight I know is coming.
"You would play with me?"
"Of course I will," I agreed a little to happily.
"Alright. Alexandria doesn't play with me much anymore."
"No point in playing when you kick my arse at it all the time," we hear her call out from behind us, causing all of us to laugh again.

After putting Rickon to sleep, with promises that we will spend the entire day together tomorrow, I stand almost frozen in place facing the door leading into Daenerys's chambers. The realization that I have been actively ignoring my wife since our meeting about Jon and the traitor going North was not lost on me. Truth is, I don't know what to say to her, and I know if we do talk, we will more than likely end up fighting. I don't know if I have it in me to fight with her about this. She's clearly made her stance known that Jorah is and will be a staple in her life moving forward, so much that she is willing to go back on her rule of banishment. Either I let it go and accept it, or I continue further and let it drive an even bigger wedge in our relationship.
"Khaleesi should be asleep by now." I jump at the guard's words, completely forgetting he was even there.
"Thank you." I nod awkwardly.
Releasing a deep breath, I open the door and force myself to walk through it. Looking at the bed, I see that the guard was indeed correct; my wife is sleeping soundly. Staring at her seemingly peaceful form, I feel a spark of irritation stir. Maybe I was hoping that the guard was wrong, and that maybe she had stayed up for me. I know it is unfair, seeing how I deliberately ignored her, yet I can't help how I feel.
Thinking about my options, I take one last glance at the bed. I turn on my heel and walk out of her chambers and into the room across the hall. As I undress to ready myself for bed, I try not to think about how every time I think of my wife, I remember how yet again she broke her promises so easily. Maybe I am being too harsh on her; father taught us the ways of honor and truth, and hers, well, she didn't have the greatest example to learn from. However, I would think that she might have learned from her past mistakes when it came to Mormont, yet obviously was wrong.
Staring up at the ceiling, our last big fight springs into my mind. It's almost as if I can still feel the warm marble floors of the Great Pyramid under my knees. She swore to me that his life would be mine if he were to ever return, yet she's allowed to swear herself to him as if nothing between them had ever happened. How long was I gone from Meereen before she had allowed him to return to her side? Did she hide him from me when I first arrived? Could I ever trust in her words again even if she were to tell me the truth? As the sun rises, causing streams of light to filter in, bouncing off the obsidian dragons etched into the walls, question after question continues to plague my mind until my heart feels three times as heavy.
I would never give her an ultimatum to choose between him and me, yet even if I were, she has already chosen. Maybe I could still love her while ruling by her side, perhaps not as much as I thought she had loved me, but I feel as if I will need to put my guard back up and figure it all out with time. Jon is right; whether any of us choose to see it, a much greater war is on the horizon, and our minds need to be focused on that, not with traitors and wives.
A harsh knock on the door brings me out of my thoughts. Rolling my eyes, I sit up and walk to my clothing that is strewn across the floor. "Enter." I sigh through the tiredness as the knocking continued, pulling my tunics over my head and tucked it into my leathers.
"Your Majesty, Queen Daenerys and Lady Margaery are requesting your presence in the Great Hall." My head snaps up at the sound of Ser Barristan's stiff voice as I finish tying my boots.
Giving him a smile, I pick up my vest and throw it on, then grab my two sheaths. "Good to see you, old man."
"Old man?" He asks through a scoff.
Pulling him into a hug, I pat him on the back. "I have missed you." I tell him, pulling away.
"As I have you, My King." He answers not meeting my eye. "About Mormont-"
"Put your worries to rest." I assure him. "I am trying to not care for the traitor today; as far as I am concerned he is Daenerys's follower, not mine."
"Her followers are yours." He points out.
I shake my head and move around him. "Not anymore, she has made her point very clear in that area."
"Ryker." He pleads as I walk out the door and down the hallway. "Are you pulling your support?"
"What?" I ask, stopping in my tracks as I turn to him.
"The way you are talking, forgive me, but it sounds as if you are not planning on ruling beside our Queen."
Shaking my head, I reach up and pinch the bridge of my nose. "No, Ser Barristan, I am not pulling any support. In fact, I fully support her; I will rule beside her as her King once we take the Throne. As I have said, put your worries to rest." I tell him before walking away.