Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11378649.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Jon_Snow/Robb_Stark, Catelyn_Stark/Ned_Stark, Jon_Snow_&_Ned_Stark, Jon
      Snow/Original_Male_Character(s)
  Character:
      Jon_Snow, Robb_Stark, Arya_Stark, Sansa_Stark, Ned_Stark, Jon_"The
      Smalljon"_Umber, Catelyn_Tully_Stark, Original_Male_Character(s), Brynden
      Tully, Edmure_Tully
  Additional Tags:
      Threats_of_Rape/Non-Con, Hurt!Jon, Mpreg
  Series:
      Part 1 of The_Children_of_Winterfell
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-02 Updated: 2017-07-09 Chapters: 3/? Words: 3767
****** The Tourney of Winterfell ******
by Jt4k9
Summary
     Jon falls victim to the violence of two knights and it has lasting
     affects for the Years to follow.
Notes
     Carefull once more..... i am not leaving much to the imagination and
     mean the warnings.....this is mean... just saying...but pretty much
     only the first chapter... the rest is just the usual psychological
     torture that is game of thrones....If you want to skip the rape part-
     down the chapter starts a more innocent story telling of the days
     before..
***** Chapter 1 *****
"Please stop!" The desperate attempt to loosen the hold that the foul smelling
Knight had on him failed, as had those before this one. Instead the arms held
tighter while wandering hands gripped his private parts.
"Now now child there is no reason for such shyness. If you calm yourself, this
will be over very quickly and quiet pleasurable for you as well."

The hands now forced themself beneath closing, fondeling the boy they held
roughly and leading the recipient of the cruel touch to cry out.

"Make him shut up Rendyll, or the little bitch will wake the entire fuckin
castle." The second man present, who had been watching out the window of the
stable hissed over his shoulder at his companion.
"And hurry up at that, I still want a fuckin piece of him as well."
"Yeah,yeah, if you bloody idiot would leave me to it, your ugly as shit face
aint helping here."

The man pulled his fingers from the boys trousers only to hold them infront of
his face, pressing tightly against the boys mouth to quiet him. With the other
hand he opened and pulled down, the youths pants and smallcloath. The man that
had been watching, grinning like a madman, his yellow and crooked teeth
showing, now walked up to join the spectacle as well.
Pulling the boys pants down the rest of the way, he kneeled down in the hay
only to grip the boys chin and pull it towards him. Randyll grinned malicously
at his companion as he watched him, slowly whispering to the boy.

"If you bite me, we will fuck you dead boy, do you hear?"
Not being given the chance to answer the boys face which was covered in salty
tears was pulled down to the mans uncovered crock. Looking one last time at his
partner in crime, the man grabbed a stronger hold of the sobbing face and
shoved his meaty dick into the youths throat, immedietly choking him and
stiffeling his cries of fear.

Watching what transpired infront of him the other also pulled out his member,
not as thick as the first ones but longer and guided it to the small puckered
hole.
"By the gods, I've never fucked a pretty little bitch like that" were the last
words the man uttered before stopped talking alltogether and only gave grunts
as he pushed into the unbelievable tight and dry channel of their victim.

Crying more desperatly in pain now, the boy could do nothing, but grip the hay
beneath him in agony, as both men pushed into him in a steady rhythm. Tearing
his hole on one side and depriving him of the much needed oxygen on the other.

The thick man that had shoved his dick down the boys throat was grunting his
pleasure as well, slapping the boy from time to time and ordering him to
"suck", which the boy did after a particular cruel thrust from behind.
The more fit man behind the black haired boy was grabbing his hips, using them
as leverage to push and pull into and away from the small body, enjoying the
tightness around his crock as much as the heat and wetness, stemming from his
cum as much as the boys blood.

Pulling out allmost entirly the man pushed one last time with all ferocity into
the young boy beneath him and cumming in loads deep inside the small body.

It seemed the desperate sounds emerging from the raping man, now led the other
to climax down the boys throat.

And so it continued for the rest of the night, the men switching positions or
just cutting away at him in amusement while recuperating. Leading to the boy
they had chosen as their toy to loose consciousness at one point.
 
 
One week before
"Why not?!" The pleading and at the same time insubordinate and stubborn tone
of Robb Stark only served to annoy his father.
"Robb,barely two and ten namesdays old is not enough to join a tourney!"
Looking down at his son with a stern expression, Ned Stark hoped to cower the
boy into submission, but it barely seemed to work and it served to only agitate
his first born further.
Looking around the room, Robbs eyes caught his one and ten year old brother
attempting to melt into the wall. Allready knowing that Jon was seen as a more
reasonable and calm person as he himself was and smelling an opportunity the
wolf pup turned once more
"Jon thinks I could have a chance at winning."
Looking at his other son the Lord of Winterfell barely held back a snort at the
panickstricken expression on Jons face. The boy apparently having been clueless
of his supportive stance of his little brothers endeavors. Out of pure loyalty
it seemed, the bastard turned to his father as well, nodding his agreement.
Scrowling, Lord Stark said nothing, but a firm command; "Jon do not lie on
behalf of your brother to me and Robb do not question my desicions again. You
can leave now." With this clear dismissal Lord Stark let the boys run of, only
to hear the calm voice of his second son scolding his eldest.
***** A son found *****
Chapter Summary
     Jon is found
Chapter Notes
     Smalljon is still young, which is why he`s not the bear of a man yet
     we so dearly love......Robb just wants attention.....Lord Stark
     doesn`t understand jokes where his children are concerned
Jon Umber
Jon “the Smalljon” Umber was only a few years older than the Stark heir, which
was exactly why his father had burdened him with the task of following the boys
every whims and answering his every question. And the boy sure as hell had
many, especially regarding the tourney. His father had commented that it would
be better to get along with the boy now, since building up a certain
familiarity with one`s future liege lord could only lead to positive relations
and therefor advantages for his house, but by the Gods the price was a heavy
one to pay.
Regardless of any diplomacy his unusually ambitious father wished for, Jon was
annoyed, more than that, since after about three hours of being continuously
questioned he had pretty much gasped at straws to be rid of the little brat. In
the end it had been easier than expected, as a joke he had thrown the boy a
stick, asking him to catch, he truly hadn`t expected the boy to do it, house
sigil be damned, but to his surprise the boy had run after it.
Smelling a chance, Jon ran for his dear life, seeing the old Lord Karstark,
that bastard, smirk at his desperation as he walked by him, but not caring
since he was free at last.
Finding a hiding spot was even more difficult, the stables which currently
hosted the horses of the visiting lords would be frequently visited, especially
those southron knights seemed to believe that by braiding their horses hair and
pampering them, the animals would carry them better in the tourney. Snorting
Jon moved over to the Starks` stables instead, with no one of that house riding
in the tourney, they would be empty today, the stable boys having been ordered
to attend the horses of the other houses first and tending to the Starks mares
later during the tourney. He opened the door at the front, pushing his tall
frame through and closing it again immediately.
The stench that assaulted him instantaneously was one of blood and the
lingering smell of sex. On alert, he took a knife from his right boot,
clutching the hilt in his hand as he walked further into the stables. Looking
around he saw nothing of note at first, the horses stood undisturbed, as he
walked by the stalls.
That changed when he reached the last stall, staring stupidly, not really
knowing what to do really he entered slowly. Looking on in horror, he took in a
shake breath, letting out a deep growl, as more became visible of what he had
only caught a glimpse of as he walked by.
The naked and bloody form of the young boy beneath him told him all he needed
to know. The face, covered in blood and by the boys unruly black curls, lay
facing him. Carefully he nudged the unmoving body with a boot only to receive a
grimace and a whimper of pain. Surprised at the very alive being beneath him,
the he was quick to carefully pull up the small child. He looked around as if
the assailant would come out any second, even though he logically knew the men
that had done this to be long gone and unlikely to return. Disturbed he was
careful not to jostle the unconscious child around, instead he walked out of
the stall and grabbed a nearby blanket he could cover the boy with.
Seemingly coming out of his shocked stupor, he made his way back to the Great
keep with all haste, bypassing all those around without uttering a single word
and now almost running to the Maesters tower. Sprinting up the stairs he burst
into the room, only to stop in his tracks, panting like a bull.
The small room seemingly filled with every Lord that had deemed to visit,
erupted into shouted questions in a second, Maester Luwin the only one reacting
to the child in his arms, directed him to a small bed in one corner. Brushing
the curls out of the boys face at the same time feeling for a fever, the
maester froze. Hastily turning and staring straight at Lord Stark the maester
only uttered with a shaky voice:
" My Lord I think it would be best if you were to leave the room."
Lord Stark who had been trying to return order to the room so he could find out
what was happening froze at those words. Looking at the boy for the first time
the usually quiet wolf let out a strangled cry and was about to push the
maester to the side in his haste to get to the child, when his father and Lord
Rickard Karstark grabbed a hold of him. It was Ser Brynden Tully who seized him
and dragged him into the library next to the maesters solar, the Lords filling
out, but for Lady Mormont who remained to help the maester. Still struggling to
get back into the room, Lord Stark seemed almost in a haze, until his cold
eyes, now ablaze with fire snapped to him. Not even his father could stop Lord
Eddard Stark then from charging at him and pushing him straight into the book
shelf behind him, growling words at him and snapping as if he were actually a
wolf.
" What happened? What did you do to my son?!"
And even though he was already taller at four and ten than Lord Stark, he could
not help himself, but tremble under the weight of his words and cower when
faced with those eyes. He must have looked like a boy of six then instead of
the burly young man he actually was.
" Noth....nothing my Lord Stark, I....I found him in your stables and brought
him here....he...I had nothing to do with raping him.." And these words more
than anything seemed to snap Lord Stark out of whatever bloodlust that had
filled him. The rest of the Lords seemed to hold their breaths as Lord Starks
demeanor changed in an instant.
Taking breaths to calm himself he turned to Lord Karstark, this time uttering
words with a voice so cold it could have brought winter upon the North this
instant, he was sure of it: " My Lord Karstark, alert the guards of what has
happened, take Jon here with you, to show them how and what he found, tell them
to question the people around Winterfell of what they saw and then report to me
on your findings, take Ser Brynden with you as well, the Riverlanders might
answer more questions if he is present. The rest of you, ask every man you
brought with you of the last night. And make no mistake My Lords, I will turn
this castle upside down if I have to and search the entire North to find who
did this.” Lord Stark had never given many orders to the Lords of the main
Houses in the North, most disputing this to his calm and just demeanor, which
usually led the men to do right by their leige without having been prompted to
do so. This time everyone seemed to know that there would be harsh consequences
if they did not act accordingly to the situation.
There was no question of the origin of the rapists in the Lords eyes, it could
not have been a man of Winterfell, it had to be a person visiting.
As the Lord looked at him once more he saw the lust for blood in his eyes as he
turned towards the closed door, behind which his bastard lay.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Ned Stark
 
He shouldn’t have agreed to this spectacle. The only thing this tourney seemed
to be good for is emptying Winterfells coffers and causing rifts rather than
friendships. Only yesterday Umber and Manderly men had tried to apparently
carve each others heads in. Why? Ned had no idea, and he questioned whether the
soldiers themselves knew why a simple disagreement had escalated like that.

The tourney had been, like most expensive things in his life, his wife’s idea,
and he had played along with it for entirely different reasons.

Disturbing news about the Dreadfort, the Bolton lands and the lands surrounding
them had reached his ears. Tensions had risen and the Houses being closest to
the Boltons had men patrolling their borders on a regular basis. The Lords that
had written letters, had spoken of soldiers wearing the flayed man appearing on
their land, strange deaths and disappearances from the surrounding villages.
Some even claimed the victims found had been flayed. All the while ravens from
the watch came more frequently, either begging for help or telling of strange
sightings and odd wildling behavior. All in all there had been enough reasons
to invite his bannermen to Winterfell.

And even if it were not for the topics that needed to be addressed it was the
height of summer and the smallfolk would surely enjoy making some fond summer
memories before the next winter. Reminiscences of better times could give hope
for the future after all, and if the maesters were right this summer would last
for several years yet and the winter would only be harsher for it.

But it would seem that despite his biggest hopes, the tourney, which had yet to
start, was only causing trouble. He had thought that if he only invited the
knights of the biggest Houses of the Riverlands and the North, it would keep
things simple; he was wrong. Lord Bolton had refused the invitation claiming
sickness, the rest of the Lords spent more time boasting over victories that
yet needed to be won, rather than addressing serious matters and the smallfolk
was complaining over disrespectful, handsy southerners. Why or even how the
Tyrells could stand hosting so many festivities all summer he would never
understand.

Even now, having moved up to the Maesters tower to escape the buzzing
activities surrounding the castle and by default his solar the Lords seemed to
have lost all ability to focus.

“ If your pathetic excuse of a Northern son manages to outlast my Jon in the
melee I will personally swallow a sword”
“Which kind?” Lord Karstark laughed back into the faceof Lord Umber as the
Greatjon claimed his eldest sons superiority.
“My Lords, I know that we are all excited about the melee at midday, but do me
a favor and focus on the matters concerning the Nights Watch a little whil…..”
At that moment the door was thrown open with such force that every Lord jumped
up, hands moving to the sides where their swords could be found on any other
day. The disheveled Smalljon Umber that came barging in was greeted with the
angry cries of every northman in the room, his frantic eyes were searching,
until they found Maester Luwin who was crossing the room already. As the boy
laid down a prone figure onto the bed, the room quieted somewhat, until Maester
Luwin spoke up.

.
.
.

He had promised her, he promised her to take care of her son and now….nothing
now, he had failed, and not only that, he had failed in one of the most
disgusting, terrible ways one could fail any child. He had been sitting in
front of the master`s solar, the same way he was now, when Jory had come to
report his findings. Not that it had been much. The attack probably happened
last night, since Jon was found in the morning. No one had seen anything or
heard something out of the ordinary. So many people and all to drunk or to
self-absorbed to have noticed his sons screams.. He imagined he must have
screamed, and he didn`t notice, because he had been at the feast, drinking,
eating and enjoying himself instead of fulfilling his fatherly duties, for Jon
was a son to him just like Robb and Bran were. He remembered someone asking
where his bastard was, Lord Manderly maybe, but didn`t remember what he had
answered.

The maester had banned him from the room he was treating Jon in and maybe that
was a good thing, because as selfish as it was he did not want to see what
damage had been caused. At some point Lady Mormont had gone in search for clean
water and the blood on her hands had him wanting to throw up. Sitting here now,
on the ground of the library by himself, left him feeling utterly incapable. He
could not rouse himself to help in the search for the perpetrator, instead he
simply wanted his son back, in the same condition he had been in yesterday.

“ Lord Stark.” As he looked up he saw Maege Mormont standing in the doorway.
Getting up to walk into the room, she squeezed his arm once in a show of
support.
“ Thank you for your help Maege.” Nodding she let him walk into the room and
closed the door behind him.
Maester Luwin was rummaging around his cabinet as he walked up to his son.
“How is he Maerster?” He asked as soon as he laid eyes upon his son.
“Most of the injuries were to be expected, painful, but they will heal with
time. There are some shallow cuts covering his body that will have to be
cleaned regularly, if they are not, they could become infected, that more than
anything worries me.”

“What of….” Sighing heavily he ran a hand through his hair.
“My Lord, he is not the first boy to have been violated in such a fashion, as I
said, it will hurt for a while, but will heal. It will be more important that
you and his siblings will be here to care for him, such things often hurt the
mind more than they hurt the body.”

Nodding to himself he regarded his son, looking for injuries. Jon looked as if
he were merely sleeping, if one ignored the dark bruises on his chin and on the
side of his head, his lip was split as well it would seem. Sitting down heavily
in the chair that had been pulled up to the side of the bed he stroked his sons
black curls.
Turning to Maester Luwin he saw the man watching him with an expression that he
recognized to be pity.

“What is in that maester?” He gestured to the herbs the master was cautiously
holding, seemingly unsure of himself.
“ Only a few herbs; tansy, mint, wormwood…”
“What are they good for, will they help Jon?”
“In a way it will help him yes, one makes moon tea out of them.”

Looking him in the eyes the maester willed him to understand. Not daring to
speak what he was thinking he waited for the maester to continue, even though
he already knew what would be said next.
“It would seem Jon is a carrier.” The unspoken words weighed much heavier than
what had been said. Jon could very well be pregnant or become pregnant if he
did not drink the tea.

“Why didn`t we know of that?” He spoke harshly.
“ Ahh, the boy is lucky that we found out at all, most times carriers are only
identified when they become pregnant. You see Lord Stark, the birthing channel
only becomes visible after they grow mature enough to carry a child, and by
that point the only way one is identified by a maester is when an unfortunate
accident occurs that requires the healing of one. Again having said this, the
boy is lucky.”
“Lucky?” He asked disbelievingly.
“In a sense. You as well as I know how valuable carriers are considered to be,
if he had not been a carrier I imagine his life would only grow more difficult
after this incident, but with this, he will almost considered to be holy, a
gift of the gods. People will be a lot more considerate, they will not joke or
be cruel.” Logically he knew that Maester Luwin was right. A bastard boy that
had been raped; what happened to Jon would have been a joke to others, a
weakness as he grew older, but now it would only cause offense that someone had
dared to touch a child that was considered to have been blessed by the gods.
And still, after the events of last night the last thing Jon would need now was
the knowledge that at some point he would be married of to a Lord to bear his
children, among other things. Sighing he could only feel pity for his son as
his entire life was altered forever in only one night.

“Maester, give him the tea when he wakes up and tell the Lords of your
findings.”
“ I will also have to inform the citadel as well as Kingslanding.”
“ Aye, do as you have to, but make sure to explain the circumstances and my
son`s young age and make it clear that we do not wish to be approached with
betrothal propositions as of yet.”
“ Despite your wishes my Lord, there will surely soon be many boys Jon`s age
being fostered here.”
Smiling slightly, he only nodded, still weaving his hands through his sons
hair. “ If it is only that, I can live with it. It might even help him to get
better.”
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