Chapter Text
Despite the centuries long friendship between House Wayne and House El, Dragons are a rare sight above Winterfell. Not so much that Jason doesn’t recognize the roars that roll like thunder over the lands and into the forest, but rare enough that, when he leaves the trees behind him and the dragons become visible in the sky, he’s surprised to make out four still rather small shapes between the clouds.
Dragons flying towards Winterfell are usually seen only once or twice a year. Kal El likes to visit the north and, since his sons became apt at flying, they come along more often than not to visit their friends, Jason’s younger brothers.
He’s familiar with the three blue shapes that almost disappear against the color os the sky. But in the twenty-three years he’s been alive, he can count the number of times he’s seen the other, the black dragon, on one hand. And it’s been so long since its last visit, he was too young to remember much.
His hunting companions gather around him, watching the dragons as well. Though they’re merely indistinct shapes, easily mistaken for birds from this distance, the people of Winterfell are passingly familiar with the King’s beasts and how they move through the sky differs from birds.
“Do you want to return to the castle, milord?”
“Yes. We were successful enough,” Jason decides.
He barely spares their prey a glance before his eyes find the dragons again. They swiftly become bigger and seemingly even faster as they approach. He wants to get back home quickly.
The hunters went out far his morning. The edge of the forest to the east is at least an hour’s ride on horseback along the hills away from the castle. But it’s his favorite stretch of land around Winterfell that can be reached within a few hours. Jason sets out on the road in a calm trot, a pace that’s no problem for the horses even with the additional weight they’re dragging now.
If he’s judging the distances and speeds correctly, the dragons will arrive before them. But he’s fine with missing the welcoming of the King’s family, as long as he still gets to see the dragons before they’re brought away to rest in the caves. It’s been months since he’s seen them and he missed the sight.
Jason can’t take his eyes off of them. Slowly, he can make out sizes and shapes and colors. As expected, he sees the giant, stormy blue dragon of Kal El in detail first and Jon’s small, sunny sky blue dragon last. They’ve visited Winterfell a couple dozen times over the past few years and he’s seen them up close a number of times. Kon’s silver blue beauty is the second smallest and also a dragon Jason is familiar with from multiple visits. They’re gorgeous creatures.
The fourth one, however, he only has very vague memories of. It’s been years since the black giant has been to the north. It’s flying a fair distance behind the other three, which makes it hard to compare sizes, but Jason judges it to be about the same size as Kal’s dragon. And Kal’s dragon can easily overlook the castle of Winterfell.
He knows the rider’s name. Slade of House Kane. He knows that he sometimes works for the Els and sometimes notoriously doesn’t. But he has no clear memory of ever meeting him, only vague snippets of what might’ve been unimpressed looks, rough hands and a deep voice perhaps.
Jason watches in wonder as the otherworldly creatures slide through the skies and along the winds. The closer they get to the castle, the more evident their beauty becomes. He’s always seen himself as more of an appreciator of poetic than aesthetic beauty, but dragons were his exception to the rule since he could remember.
The dragons circle around the castle a few times before landing outside the walls. Jason is close enough to feel the earth shake when the giants set foot on the ground. It causes that deep, instinctual rumbling in his chest that he’ll never grow tired of.
He can barely see the humans from this distance but is surprised to notice two figures getting off the blue giant’s back. If it is the Queen that joined the rest of her family in their journey north, it would mark the first time that all Els left King’s Landing after Kal’s coronation.
And as far as he knows, the visit is unannounced.
That implies a prospect he doesn’t like to consider at all. Especially, when he gets close and sees Bruce hurrying away with Kal to talk in private without the usual family greetings, and that it is indeed the Queen that flew with the King.
Dick, as Bruce’s heir, is already leading her through the gates to the city when he arrives. Alfred just finished telling Damian and Tim where their respective friend will be staying and reminds them of the feast they’ll be having tonight before he lets them go. The boys disappear quickly, but it’s obvious that the Princes’ somber mood reins in the usually visible excitement at these reunions.
Jason gets off his horse before they reach the dragon and she gets too nervous. He presses a calming hand to her flank and asks one of his men to take her inside so he can talk to Alfred and greet their guests.
Even though only the infamous mercenary is left. A man he neither knows nor cares for. His interest lies somewhere else entirely. As soon as he knows his horse is taken care of, he resumes watching the dragons.
Now that their riders are gone, the two young ones turn to Kal’s dragon, lazily nuzzling its neck. The black one landed behind the others and is resting next to Slade, who hasn’t moved from its side. They’re both just watching the greetings unfold and the only people left are Alfred and now Jason.
“Master Jason,” Alfred greets when Jason approaches the little group of giants, unfazed by the eyes of a dragon and a mercenary resting on him. “How was your hunt?”
Jason smiles, ignoring the goosebumps dancing across his skin when their gazes move to him. He’s used to mild curiosity from the blue ones, not this.
“Both successful and good. The forest looks healthy.”
Alfred nods, pleased. “I was just about to show Master Kane to the caves,” he says when they approach Slade and his dragon, carefully keeping a proper distance.
Now that he’s so close, Jason can tell that Slade’s dragon really is almost as big as Kal’s dragon. The deep black color adds menace to the imposing size, and there’s an aura of fierceness and depth surrounding it. Its features, wings, scales, claws and most of all its golden eyes seem razor-sharp and unyielding and dwarf the humans.
Jason’s eyes find Slade’s, when he finally tears his gaze away from the dragon, and are met with the exact same aura from the rider. He blinks, taken aback at the similarity, and Slade isn’t looking at him anymore.
“It’s only been a decade, I can still find the way,” Slade says to Alfred and steps forward. “You must be swamped with preparations for the unannounced visit.”
“I assure you that everything is being well handled as we speak. It’s simply a matter of dividing up tasks properly.”
“I can take him,” Jason volunteers and tells himself that he just doesn’t want to let Alfred waste time on this and that it’s got nothing to do with his weird fascination for dragons.
“Master Jason…,” Alfred sighs, pointedly glancing at Slade.
Jason winces internally, feeling like he was caught conveniently ignoring Slade’s reputation. Maybe offering to be alone with a mercenary isn’t the wisest thing to do for the son of a Lord. Jason can hold his own well enough against almost anyone, but Slade Kane isn’t just anyone. It could be a risk.
Slade notices the dilemma, a curious eyebrow raises barely visible. “I assure you that the Els are paying me very well. You should know that they wouldn’t let any harm come to a Wayne.”
Jason looks at Alfred, looking for his approval. If that’s the case, he shouldn’t need to oppose Jason’s offer. Slade’s reputation as contract-keeper precedes him. Technically, he doesn’t need Alfred’s blessing, but he likes having it. Simply, because he has a lot of respect for both of the men that raised him.
“Can you please show him to his quarters, too, then? It is next to the King’s.”
“I will,” Jason nods.
Alfred throws one last, hard look towards Slade and leaves. Jason wonders if there’s history or perhaps a story there. Before he can come up with theories, the Els’ dragons catch his attention.
Kal’s giant seems lazy from the long flight but still willing to entertain the pups, who become more playful the more bored they get. If he remembers correctly, Jon named his dragon Yune and Kon his Ita. He has no idea what the name of Slade’s dragon is, and because of the way it watches him, with sharp calculating eyes, he doesn’t want to ask.
“Kid,” Slade catches his attention, and he forces himself to stop looking at the black dragon, only belatedly bristling at the form of address. “Coming?”
Despite, or maybe because of, the overly casual way he said it, it sounds like a dare. As if Slade hasn’t just tried to guarantee his safety a moment ago. It makes Jason wonder how much worth his claims carry. In this situation there’s nothing to be gained from harming him, but would his words still hold true if there was?
But right now, Slade’s probably just testing if he can play with him.
Jason rolls his eyes. “This way.”
Slade turns to his dragon and says something under his breath. Jason can’t make out what and gets caught staring when Slade moves to follow him. The slight smirk Slade directs at him matches up perfectly with the memories he wasn’t sure were real.
“It’s been a while since you two have seen each other, huh?”, Slade says, still far too informal, with a glance at his dragon that’s still watching him. Jason can’t entirely hide his surprise at the remark. “You don’t remember? Well, you were a child when we were last here. You’ve grown a lot.”
Jason ignores the once-over Slade gives him. He got too used to ‘oh my, you’ve grown taller again’ comments over the past ten years. Bruce is the tallest man he knows, along with Kal, and they only have an inch on him. Or at least he thought so. Slade seems taller than those two. Maybe that’s why the comment about his growth feels different from his mouth.
Jason does his best to not appear intrigued. Slade himself is a mystery. He knows that it isn’t expected of him to treat Slade like a member of the royal family, which begs the question how he became a dragon rider. Knowledge about the dragons is something the House El mostly keeps to themselves, but they’re the only ones known for being riders.
Jason subtly shakes his head and pushes the questions he has related to Slade away. It doesn’t matter. He’s not interested. And Dragons aren’t Jason’s thing to wonder or know about. It’s the Els’ matter. He even keeps himself from turning his head to watch the giant creatures walk when he feels the first tremors in the ground.
He can’t quite suppress the pleased humming coming from his chest though. Something about these creatures just always makes him itch to be closer to them.
Slade huffs, almost amused, and falls into step beside him. Jason raises a questioning eyebrow at him, he’s sure that the sound he made wasn’t loud enough to be heard.
“Dragon’s are a rare sight in the north,” Slade says, after regarding him for a second too long. Jason shrugs and tries to figure out if there is any chance that he heard him after all. Surely not.
“Are you any good with the sword, now?”
A vague picture of himself as a child challenging Slade to a fight with a sword way too big for his tiny hands comes to mind.
Jason groans. “You cannot tell me you’re one for old child stories.”
“No,” Slade says. “But I’m always interested in knowing how good a fighter someone is.”
“And you just ask directly?”, he scoffs.
“You’d be surprised by how many people actually answer. Makes for a good way to separate people who know how to brag from people who know what they’re doing.”
“What if they’re lying?”
“Oh, I notice,” Slade smirks and it throws Jason off, how familiar it feels despite having seen it only once today.
“Alright. I’m decent,” he lies. Slade snorts.
“You’re not avoiding giving me an answer by lying, kid. You’re Wayne’s son. It’s a given that you’re well trained. And in more than just sword fighting,” Slade says, eyeing him.
Jason shrugs it off. His father’s reputation is well known, and he’s very familiar with the expectations it puts on his sons. No one is surprised by him or his brothers doing well.
Slade adds, “Bet you had a lot of great teachers, too.”
“Mhm,” he hums.
Most of his training was actually Bruce himself, but he doesn’t feel the need to share that particular detail.
“You Waynes are an odd bunch. Training so much and yet never showing it off.”
Jason’s heard this comment a lot, too. Especially about their decision to never participate in festivities.
“Why would we do tourneys? They’re worthless”, he says, propping his chin forward just a tiny bit in annoyance.
“You’re nobility,” Slade simply says, not bothering to pacify Jason’s sour mood. “They all scramble to get their sons to be the best at those things.” Slade glances at him again. “You should know why the Houses do it. And the boys are always eager to prove their worth. You never wanted to?”
The truth is that he used to want to do exactly that. Bruce always reminded them of the disadvantages as they grew up, but the nagging of a father often achieves the opposite of its intention. Even if he couldn’t find fault in his logic, he could weigh the reasons for the arguments and decide that, to his fifteen year old self, proving himself was worth more than keeping his abilities hidden, not participating in violence for entertainment or accidentally killing or dying for nothing but flowers and glory.
But that was years ago. Every tournament he saw, he enjoyed less until only disdain was left. And when he turned sixteen, he found that sparring with Dick or Bruce or one of his teachers, or using his skills for hunting or real fights was much more satisfying. And enough to prove his own worth to himself.
“Is that why you participate? To prove yourself?”, he asks Slade.
It’s pure provocation. Why would a dragon rider ever need to prove his worth to anybody?
Slade scoffs, amused. “I do it for fun.”
Jason doesn’t doubt that Slade would share none of Bruce’s concerns. Or any of the usual reasons other Lords have for partaking, for that matter.
“You don’t think it’s bothersome? The whole ceremonial fuss?”, Jason wonders suddenly.
Apart from the obvious up- and downsides, that always annoyed him to the death.
“I have no patience for those,” Slade simply says. Jason is honestly a bit taken aback by the fact that Slade doesn’t curse like a sailor every time he speaks. He thought he would be the type. “I have my fun, especially if there’s someone who asks to be knocked on his ass, but I disappear after that. No ceremonies for me.”
“Elaborate.” Slade raises his eyebrow. “On the second point,” Jason says before he can ask himself why he even wants to know more.
“You know what kind of boys I mean,” Slade says, entertained, and Jason almost feels his lips curl because, oh, he does indeed have a few specific faces in mind.
He shakes his head, getting rid of the dawning smile like a mosquito, and looks expectantly at Slade, waiting for more.
Slade caught him do it and smirks a little meaner but answers anyway. “The ones who got into the saddle on silk cushions. The boys who would get themselves killed in their first real fight. No grace, no wit, no common sense.” He pauses, studying Jason almost intently. “You’re not one of those, are you?”
“Considering, I’m still alive, no, I’m not.”
“Been in a ‘real’ fight then?” The interested glint in Slade’s eye is impossible to miss this time.
“I’m afraid you’d mock me for calling it one, so I’ll spare the details. But it’s happened.”
“I’m surprised. I though the north was safe for Waynes.”
“It is. Because this is who we are. Not because our name protects us. Not from swords wielded by greed.”
Slade hums. “Bruce knows what he’s doing.”
That surprises Jason. He knows that they’ve known each other for decades and that Slade must posses a vast amount of knowledge. His father told them a lot about Slade, and he didn’t neglect to mention that Slade knows just as much about him. His father’s given name out of Slade’s mouth sounds like equal parts familiarity and disrespect for Bruce’s authority.
“Didn’t know you were that close,” Jason narrows his eyes at him, dropping the formal tone.
“Don’t tell him you think we were ever close,” Slade huffs. “We just used to be in each other’s lives a lot.”
“Not always on the same side of things, huh?”
“Oh, definitely not.”
“Sounds like a complicated story.”
“I can dumb it down for you.”
Jason frowns. “No, thanks.”
“Your father told you everything you needed to know then?,” Slade asks, doubting.
Jason can’t answer that, so he points at the caves that are just a hundred yards up ahead.
“We’re almost there.”
Slade looks amused for a split second before turning to the dragons.
“Wait here,” he tells Jason, reaching his hand out until the black one comes close and nuzzles it.
Jason steps to the side and watches Slade lead them to the caves. Slade and his dragon disappear first and Kal’s dragon nudges the young ones to follow.
He waits, looking decisively bored, but it doesn’t take long for Slade to reappear. Jason’s still distracted and looking past Slade towards the caves. The bag he’s carrying now is invisible to him, until Slade is close. There must be something in it, that Slade absolutely doesn’t want to take his eye off of. The royal family’s belongings were already taken to their quarters upon their arrival.
For the first time, he also notices that Slade, like him, prefers clothes with good mobility over those made too thick for comfortable warmth or to slim for dashing looks, and that, despite the white hair, he looks twenty years younger than he’s supposed to be.
He silently chides himself for letting the dragons distract him that much from Slade.
“I’ll show you to your quarters,” Jason says, starting to walk the way back before Slade reaches him.
Slade melts down that distance in no time, without even looking like he’s trying, and joins him again. He isn’t letting Jason take even an inch of advantage.
His jaw clenches for just a moment in frustration. Usually he can get the upper hand on another person easily. Or, as he prefers, have it in reach. He doesn’t enjoy it, unless the other person wants to play that game too, but just in case he needs it, he likes to have it as an option.
Slade seems to love this game, and he is annoyingly good at it. But he doesn’t call Jason out on the attempts that fall flat. At least not openly. Jason gets the feeling that Slade is nevertheless fully aware of what he’s doing, which grates on his nerves.
They reach the gates of Winterfell in silence, without the sounds of the dragons following them. They’re open and the guards, recognizing him, let them pass without question. Jason looks around, but all he sees are people going about their day in the courtyard.
Slade looks at him curiously, but, before he can be smug about it, he sees a shadow shoot out from behind a building. Ny stops just in front of him and regards Slade warily. It doesn’t stop him from leaning his head into Jason’s chest to get head-rubs, though.
“Ever seen a direwolf?”, Jason asks, turning to Slade but not letting go of Ny.
“Just once. As pups, about a year after you found them. He grew up well.”
Jason doesn’t expect Slade, a dragon rider and infamous mercenary, to flinch away from Ny, even though his wolf has the same shoulder height as a horse now, but Slade doesn’t look wary in the slightest.
Not even when Ny quietly growls at him.
“I smell of dragon. It tends to unnerve other animals,” Slade says, both sounding like he’s informing him about the color of the sky and warning him that animals perceive him as a threat.
Jason chuckles. “Oh, no, he’s growling because of you. He never reacts like that to the princes. Seems like you’re either unlikable or untrustworthy. Perhaps both.”
Slade raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that his judgement or is he picking up on yours?”
Now that’s a question Jason doesn’t want to get into. Slade snorts.
“Alfred said you’re the King’s guard?”, he asks instead and Slade confirms it with a nod. “Whatever happened… is it bad?”
Slade cocks his head to the side. “Yes. They only hire me, when they need to.”
“Do you know the situation?”, Jason asks quietly, leading Slade into the castle.
“I do.”
Jason doesn’t bother asking for information he won’t get and leaves Slade at his room, worrying his bottom lip and keeping a hand in Ny’s warm fur. The question isn’t only what happened, but also why they came. Or, more accurately, what help they are going to ask for.
He goes to his room, which isn’t far from where the King’s family and Slade are staying and changes out of his hunting clothes into something more formal. Even though the visit is unannounced, Alfred will have a feast put together by the evening.
He lets himself fall onto his bed and rolls over to put an arm over Ny’s neck, who followed him to lay down in the space between wall and bed. It’s his favorite spot to sleep in, and Jason moves the bed a little further away from the wall every couple months to accommodate his growth, so that he fits perfectly. He just wants to take a second to lie here with Ny at his side and take in the unexpected turn this day took.
Jason knows he can’t disappear into his room for too long, and he’d rather know what’s happening sooner than later. If the Queen didn’t retreat to her private quarters, which she usually doesn’t do, Dick probably took her to the private hall near their rooms. It’s a comfortable and warm space, and the place to go when looking for company. He does.
He finds them occupying two of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and joins them. Slade is already there, quietly observing the hallway that leads to the chambers where the boys are.
Dick is well versed at telling mundane tales about their family and land and has a knack for showing interest in the tales of King’s Landing the Queen Lois shares. Jason listens, but Dick is entertaining enough and Lois has always been rather pleasant company.
Nothing they talk about is related to the reason for their visit, though, so his eyes keep drifting from the fireplace to Slade, wondering why he is so on guard and if he knows where the King and his father are.
It’s almost time for the feast when the two of them finally show up and Bruce looks tense but determined. It’s a worrying look. Lois gets up, squeezes Kal’s hand and offers to go get the boys. A short while later, she returns with her sons and Jason’s brothers, closely followed by Alfred.
He shuts the doors and Kal begins to fill them in.
“A couple of nights ago, my Hand died,” the King begins solemnly. Jason’s unease grows. “I suspect foul doings and have come to ask your father to be my Hand and help me weed out any traitors that may be at my side. I’m sorry to have to do this.”
Bruce lays a hand on the King’s shoulder and looks at the grim faces of his sons.
“It is sudden, but you’re all well prepared. Richard will be Lord of Winterfell in my absence.”
Dick stands straighter and doesn’t protest, doesn’t even chew on the inside of his mouth like he usually does, when he has to turn something over and over again in his head. He accepts it without question. Jason’s eyes fly back to the stern expression on his father’s face and the apologetic one on Kal’s. They’re worried and Slade’s presence only confirms it.
Jason firmly steps forward. “Let me come with you.”
Bruce looks a little pained. “Jason, Richard needs…”
“He has Alfred and Tim. They are great advisors,” he argues, unwavering.
“I do not wish to see you go alone either, father,” Damian steps up next to him.
“The last time Damian was in King’s Landing, he was too young to learn or see much, and I haven’t been in almost a decade. I can learn from the Kingsguard,” Jason continues.
Kal smiles at them and undermines Bruce’s arguments about safety before he can even begin. “Slade agreed to stay at court until this matter is taken care of.”
“Alright,” Bruce sighs, after he looks at Slade whose only reaction is a nod. “Lucius will be coming with us as well. We will travel by horse. Are you flying ahead?”
“No, we will join you. I wish to discuss everything in detail and make plans,” Kal says. “The dragons will carry your bags so you may travel lightly, which means we’ll reach King’s Landing in about two weeks. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow if a day is enough time for preparations.”
“Of course, please rest in the meantime,” Bruce assures.
Alfred declares that the feast is ready and Jason catches Slade looking at him when they leave the room. His face gives nothing away, though, and Jason tries to forget about it over dinner.
It’s a pleasant affair, he’s not friends with Jon or Kon like Damian and Tim are, and their parents mostly keep to themselves to catch up on pleasantries for now, but the Els have visited Winterfell multiple times. The atmosphere in the dining hall is both cheerful and almost as comfortable as if it was just the Waynes hosting a dinner for their court.
Jason sits at the side of the long table, near Slade. Their eyes meet from time to time and Jason can’t get the picture of Slade standing next to his dragon out of his head. Somewhere in the depths of his wonder, he wishes he could ask him all about them.
He knows that Tim has ridden with Kon on his dragon before and that Jon enthusiastically introduced Dami to his dragon when he was big enough to make the journey, but Dick and himself never got close to one.
All he can do is stare in fascination and wonder what it’s like to fly.
He lightly shakes his head free of the web of daydreams and finds Slade looking at him. He returns a quick smile and goes back to talking to Kon, hoping with a sinking feeling in his gut that Slade doesn’t misunderstand him staring holes in the air while lost in his head as staring at Slade himself.
The next day is hectic, Bruce, Damian and him, as well as the other two dozen people joining them, ready themselves for the departure. Tim seems to be torn between spending the remaining day with his family or Kon, and Dick practically splits himself three ways to be around Bruce, Damian and Jason at all times.
Jason decides to make it easier for him and disappears into the god’s woods around noon.
Most people, especially southerners, find the north to be uncomfortable. Everything is colder here, the seasons, the earth, the colors, even the sunshine. But Jason, like the rest of his family, loves his home. Every living thing requires a solid warm core and, when you spend your whole life here, you naturally gravitate towards fires, spaces storing heat and people who radiate warmth.
Finding warmth amongst coldness can feel almost magical.
Now, it’s spring and the sunlight takes some of the wind’s iciness away. Jason loves it, he basks in the feeling while strolling through the woods, savoring this very specific flavor of spring, before traveling south, where the spring is most likely almost giving way to a real summer already.