Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8275255.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Gen, Multi
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, A
      Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Jon_Snow/Arya_Stark, Minor_or_Background_Relationship(s), Lyanna_Stark/
      Rhaegar_Targaryen, Ashara_Dayne/Ned_Stark, Canon_Relationship(s)
  Character:
      Ned_Stark, Jon_Snow, Arya_Stark, Direwolf_|_Direwolves, Ghost_(ASoIaF),
      Ashara_Dayne, Minor_Characters, Lyanna_Stark, Original_Female_Character
      (s), Howland_Reed, Catelyn_Tully_Stark, Robb_Stark, Elia_Martell, Rhaegar
      Targaryen, Starks_(ASoIaF), Background_&_Cameo_Characters, Lannisters,
      Jon_Arryn
  Additional Tags:
      Unplanned_Pregnancy, Canonical_Character_Death, Alternate_Universe_-
      Canon_Divergence, Tower_of_Joy, Reincarnation, Eventual_Smut, Bestiality,
      Cousin_Incest, Not_Beta_Read, Unrequited_Love, Implied/Referenced
      Suicide, Implied/Referenced_Character_Death, Robert's_Rebellion, Platonic
      Relationships, Suspension_Of_Disbelief, Lies, Babies, Growing_Up, Child
      Death, Parent-Child_Relationship, Backstory, Implied_Relationships,
      Medical_Inaccuracies, R_plus_L_equals_J, Infant_Death, Infanticide,
      Murder, Prophecy, Magic, Shapeshifting, POV_Animal
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-13 Updated: 2016-12-26 Chapters: 10/? Words: 45801
****** dreaming that the antidote is orgasm ******
by Zombiegravitation
Summary
     "So I prayed to the gods, take him away. Make him die."
     No change of heart can force a god to undo an answered prayer. Jon
     dies and Ned mourns the loss of the last piece of his sister. The
     gods maybe be cruel but they haven't finished with Jon yet.
     Or the one where Jon's a direwolf until he's not.
Notes
     I'm surprised there wasn't more of this in this fandom...I'm going to
     hell but I'm sure I'll see you all there. It's a fusion of book and
     TV elements. There should be only one or two Dorne chapters, then a
     single King's Landing chapter after this and that's all I have
     written so far... This was supposed to be a simple PWP but nope I
     wanted plot after hearing Catelyn talking to Talisa, so here we go.
     Pay attention to the tags! This story will involve multiple occasions
     of wolf on human sex and the usual incest tag but not until later
     chapters. You can shame me later.
***** Chapter 1 *****
281
Tower of Joy
Ser Arthur Dayne fell from Howland's dagger with a slick sound, Ned could hear
his gurgling breaths louder than his own pants. Howland looked at him
expectantly, clutching his bloody gut. Ned couldn't stop staring, he was nearly
frozen until Arthur dropped his sword.
Ned quickly grabbed the sword, it's weight light and he moved easily when
Arthur looked up at him. His heart stuttered as he looked at eyes similar to
Ashara's but his body never hesitated. He gave the final blow, one of mercy and
Arthur fell. Never before had Ned felt so honorless, it was cronnagmen way to
use any means of advantage but it left Ned feeling sick.
Not that he had much chance to feel regret at the moment, for he heard a wail
that would haunt him for years to come. Ned ran towards the tower, slowing
after the second scream he thought - No it must have been the wind. He glanced
back to see Howland wriggling out of his clothes, pressing his shirt to his
wound.
Howland waved him off, knowing whatever would happen in the tower was more
important. Besides he would force himself to live, he had not finished his
destiny yet, his death would not happen for many years ahead.
Ned rushed ahead, Dawn still raised in his hand, watching for any attacks. The
tower was messy as if it's occupants had rushed around in a frenzy long before
he arrived. He burst through the only shut door in the whole tower, startling
two of the three women in the room.
One of the woman paled and wept at the sight of the bloody sword and whispered,
"Dawn."
Ned ignored her, eyes only focused on the broken vision before him.
"Ned?" Her voice is a broken whisper, that only rushes Ned to hurry to her
side. As he nears her bed, he takes in the blood sheets and the sweaty
appearance of the bed's occupant. He left Dawn at the foot of the bed, instead
one hand went to pet Lyanna's hair and the other grabbed her shaky bloody hand
and he pressed a kiss to it.
"Lyanna."
Oh his sweet little sister, so haggard and broken. Where was her strength? What
had Rhaegar done to her?
"Is that you? Is that really you? You're not a dream?" Her words were a soft
yet rapid babble, her fingers twitched in his hand as hope grew.
"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here." He smiled weakly, allowing himself another
caress. "Right here."
"I've missed you, big brother." Lyanna's eyes opened, watery with tears and
clouded with fever. Her face blooming with a smile.
"I've missed you, too."
"I want to be brave."
"Shh. You are."
Ned knew every fiber of his being that Lyanna was brave, Lyanna was honorable,
always fighting for those who needed it. He remembered Lyanna who took over
responsibilities of the Lady of the House when she still a child. He remembered
helping her into mismatched armor at the Harrenhal to defend their new Cronnag
friend. He remembered the fearful yet flattered expression on her face when she
accepted the winter roses from Rhaegar. He remembered her own screams against
her father after her betrothal announcement, throwing their mother's memory
into his face and claims of how she must be shamed to have a husband like him.
He remembered Benjen's confession of helping Lyanna met in secret with Rhaegar
for over a year, of helping her flee on their way to the Riverlands. Ned knew
his own promises of Robert stopping his boozing and whoring had likely pushed
an already strained Lyanna to what she thought was a better option.
Lyanna was a wild wolf, had she been born male, she would have been much like
Brandon and their father thought he could use her to further a Southern
alliance.
"I'm not." Lyanna whimpered, her twitching hand reminding him of the sticky
blood still coating it. "I don't want to die."
"You're not going to die." Ned assured her though it was futile. There was too
much blood. He looked to the Dornish handmaiden standing by the bedside, the
other seemingly distracted by something he couldn't see. "Get her some water."
"No, no water." Lyanna shook her head, trying to get her brother to listen. Oh
for a second, how she wished he was more like her feverish dreams. She had
confessed everything multiple times to delusions of Ned and Brandon and their
father, only to have a burst of clarity and see Amira wiping her brow.
"Is there a maester?"
"Lis-Listen to me, Ned." With energy she didn't know she had or where it came
from, Lyanna pulled her brother down and close to her face. Desperation leaked
from every pore and she lowered her voice, "His name is Jaehaerys, you know who
his father is. If Robert finds out, he'll kill him-" Lyanna rushed on ignoring
her brother's attempt to interrupt. "You know he will. You have to protect him.
Promise me."
She could see the confusion on his face, she signaled her maids to bring her
son close as she caressed her brother's face, trying to memorize every detail
of it like she had with her son. She tried to summon visages of Benjen's face,
tried to remember and wished he was here. She felt guilty for the confused
haunted look on Ned's face and knew it would only echo on Benjen's.
Lyanna weakly pushed Ned to face them. Amira still held Jaehaerys to her body,
hesitating to give the babe to the man who killed their protectors. But Lyanna
nodded and Ned shifted his body to hold the wrapped bundle.
"Promise me, Ned."
Amira stayed by their sides, ready to take the babe back as soon as possible.
She could see her lady was already fading, tears going down all their faces.
Even the little prince seemed to sense it as he started crying as well. Ned
looked at at his sister then to the babe and back to her. He nodded his
agreement but Lyanna's eyes had already closed her final whisper as a smile
overcame her face,
"Promise me."
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The room stays quiet save the quiet whimpers of Jaehaerys. Yue moves silently,
packing what little they had left before leaving for water. She comes back with
a heavy pail but a fearful face. She stands still unsure if she will be allowed
to touch her lady.
"He will need a wet nurse." Amira said quietly, bring Ned's attention to her.
"We have a goat but only goat's milk is not good for a babe so young. It will
have to do until we find the boy a wet nurse."
"Yes, of course...do you know where we could...?"
This man who so quickly struck down Sers Arthur, Orsell and Lord Commander
Gerold, fumbled with womanly matters. It was almost amusing.
"Kingsgrave is the closest castle but it is controlled by the Martells. I doubt
they would be very welcoming to a Stark." She said rather coldly. "House Dayne
in Starfall may welcome us, if we bring back their fallen son as well as Dawn,
their ancestral blade. Last rumor we heard, the Lady Ashara was with child. She
likely has a wet nurse, if not she could summon one."
Ned flinched, he still loved Lady Ashara despite marrying Catelyn to honor his
father's promise. It still stung that she moved on rather quickly.
"Of course. Prepare yourselves for the journey...would there be a cart here?"
He said eyeing his sister's corpse.
"Yes, in the lower tower we've hidden a cart. Yue can care the boy and prepare
your sister's body for travel. I will show you where the cart is before I
prepare Ser Arthur's."
"And the others?"
"As much as I would wish to bring them back to their families, it would take to
long. The stench would be unbearable. Burn them or bury them. That is your
choice." She said quietly, Jaehaerys already asleep when she placed him in a
woven sleep basket. She nodded to Yue to begin cleaning Lady Lyanna.
Ned followed the strange woman down the steps. She was quick, knowing exactly
where to place her feet on the crumbling stone. Howland eyed her with distrust
when she paused to look at the corpses of the fallen. Ned could practically
hear him calling Ned a fool as he followed her out of sight. She led him along
the wall towards what he had originally thought to be a rock formation on the
ride here but turned out to be the remains of a second tower. The base still
existed and stepping through the large entrance he saw the cart. It would be
just large enough to carry the two dead bodies and both women.
"And the horses?"
"Penned not far from here. If you listen carefully, you can hear them."
And with that she left Ned, presumably to tend to Arthur Dayne's cooling
corpse.
Ned dropped to the ground, finally allowing himself to cry. He wept for for
Lyanna, for his father, for his brother. Gods he wanted his mother right now.
Though she had been gone for nearly two decades, he always took comfortable in
her memory and right now he could use his mother's warmth.
What could he tell Benjen? I'm sorry? I failed? I let Lyanna die? He shoved his
fist into his mouth, muffling his loud sobs. Lyanna, Lyanna, he should have
been a better brother to her. How could he have left her alone to care for
Benjen & the House while father trained Brandon and he was at the Eyrie?
"She's gone, Ned. Mourn her when it's safe for you to do."
Ned jumped, frantically scrubbing his face of tears. He turned to face the
owner of the voice.
"Howland, I thought you were-"
"The scared girl helped stitch me up, she has a deft hand." Howland said
coolly, distrust still evident in his voice. "Her friend says we shall travel
further into Dorne."
"Y-yes." Ned grimaced at the crack in his voice. "I need a wet nurse for Jae-
Jon the babe. Lyanna's babe. And she says it maybe the only friendly place
here. And we'll be returning their blade and their fallen son to them."
Howland sighed. "Will you be needing help with that?" he said nodding towards
the cart. "Or will you be fine?"
"I can manage. Could you start making cairns for the fallen? If the maids are
done with Lyanna and Arthur, they could help you."
"Aye. I should be well enough for that."
"Good, I'll be by soon after." Ned said feeling rather awkward for lying.
Howland likely knew the truth about the babe's father but he would keep the
name secret. It would be hard to keep him safe if he kept the Valyrian name.
-
Back at the tower, Amira helped Yue redress the young girl in the blue gown she
arrived in so long ago. Lyanna -clean of blood and gore- merely looked asleep,
smiling softly as if she dreamt of good. Carefully they laid her in spare
linen, folding her hands over the only two things she brought with her to the
tower aside from clothes: a dried crown of blue roses and a slightly crumple
miniature portrait of her family. Yue wrapped her quickly while Amira checked
on the babe, only to see he was still sleeping.
"Poor child." Yue said quietly. "Doomed to the life of a bastard if the Lord
keeps his promise and doesn't just kill him the moment we're gone."
"He'll keep his promise. He's hurt her enough, besides I doubt his Gods will
look at him favorably if he abandoned his blood. And better the life of a
bastard than a dead one."
"Ah yes, a life of scorn and belittlement. What a great one." She said
bitterly.
Amira then remembered Yue was a Northern bastard herself, she hadn't shared
much of her life before she became a travelling healer and doula. What little
she did share was not favorable.
"Will you go North with them?"
Yue blinked, she had forgotten they were free, that she didn't have to go
North. She thought on it for a while before sighing. "Yes. Just to make sure
he's healthy...perhaps I shall travel back from time to time. If it is the Gods
will."
"The packs are already down. Ser Arthur needs to be washed and wrapped. Can you
carry her down or will you need help?" Amira said eyeing the wrapped corpse.
Lyanna wasn't very heavy and while Yue was stronger than she looked, Amira
wasn't sure it was a solo task.
Unsurprisingly Yue was able to carry Lyanna on her own. Amira readied the
cradleboard for Jaehaerys, the boy merely stirred as she strapped him in,
carefully covering him with a light weight blanket so he didn't overheat or
suffocate. She hefted the contraption onto herself, she took one last look
around what had been her home for over a year and said farewell.
The injured man was busy. He had stripped the corpses of the weapons save Ser
Arthur and was taking stones from the tower. It looked as if he were building
something around them.
"If you have a free hand, I could use the help."
Amira checked is Yue needed her help but the other woman was already undressing
Arthur to wash him without trouble.
"What exactly are we doing?"
"Cairns."
She rolled her eyes at his gruff response, men could be ridiculous. She took
note how he built the base for the first cairn before going off to get stones
for the next one. The three worked in the quiet until Ned Stark finally arrived
with the cart, the goat and the chickens. He tied the horses to a near by tree
and helped hurry along the work.
It was dark by the time they finished, Jaehaerys had woken twice. Once for
soiling himself, the second for hunger. While the women cooked one of the
chickens for dinner, the men talked on whether they should travel by night or
wait till morning. The two women glanced at each other before Yue voiced their
thoughts.
"It would be easier to travel during the latest part of the day and through the
night. The heat can be unbearable during the day, the nights are only
relatively cool."
"Then it's decided, after dinner we ride. Which one of you can drive horse?"
Howland said, in a considerably better mood with food being readied. Of course
he kept a care eye for tampering but he was slowly believing these two wouldn't
hurt them.
From what they shared, it was easy to believe they had no true loyalty to the
Targaryens. Yue was Northern loyal herself, the bastard daughter of a minor
house. Howland could guess who her father was from her dark hair, strong nose
and stocky build. She found herself with Rhaegar's party back when they were
traveling through the Riverlands. One of the knights had fallen ill and she
traveled with them to care for him before long Rhaegar had given her gold to
stay and travel with them to Dorne, never once revealing his intentions.
Amira was a different story. She had signature Dornish features: lithe build,
brown skin, dark hair and eyes. And just as obvious as her ethnicity was, it
was obvious who she was loyal to. She had been of Princess Elia's handmaidens
before Aerys forced her to return to Dorne, exchanging her for a new handmaiden
from a better family. Rhaegar had found her and asked her to be Lyanna's
companion. Only after Elia had written her did she agree. She would do anything
for her people, no matter who they married.
"So you mean, the former Princess supported the relationship?" Ned said
confused, stopping his eating.
"Elia wanted him happy, and he wanted more children. Lyanna was willing and
Elia had hoped to gain a sister. She was very lonely. Aerys had isolated her
from her home, Lady Ashara was the last to leave and he chose her handmaidens
himself including Cersei Lannister for a short while." Amira started, pausing
when she saw Jaehaerys start to fuss. She put down her meal and walked to the
goat with a shallow bowl.
"She hoped Lyanna would be her friend at the very least. From what she wrote
and what Lyanna had told us, they had a long talk back in Harrenhal after
Lyanna tried to give her the roses." Yue continued for her. "The plan was to
bring her back to the capital after she gave birth to his child. It only took
two moon cycles after their wedding before she quickened with his child. The
seed is strong."
"They married? When? There was no record of it..."
"Rhaegar had the Septon keep quiet with a promise of some sort, but they were
married in the Godswoods in front of the heart tree and Elia herself was there.
If you went to the Septon perhaps he would show you or perhaps he has already
destroyed any evidence. By the time we reached the Tower of Joy, we heard tales
of Lyanna's kidnapping and rape. No doubt he does not want to enrage the stag
king by suggesting she willing married and fucked the dragon prince." Yue said
rather bluntly.
She remembered the ceremony was a long and dull affair done in the dead of
night, the Princess herself had been there with her two young ones. Yue had
been the one to give Lyanna away closest thing to family if only by Northern
blood. Rhaegar, Lyanna and Elia had circled each other, unsure of what to do
until Rhaenys asked to play a game. The so called feast was food snuck from the
kitchens, the little princeling had vomited on Lyanna. The night ended not with
a bedding but with the three sharing an embrace with the children between them.
"They looked happy." She said real quiet. A chill settled within her as she
realized even if Lyanna lived, she wouldn't have gotten that. Not the same way.
Jaehaerys wailed almost as if he was mourning his mother and his lost family
too. His attention to his milk damp cloth abandoned. He squirmed in Amira's
arms until Ned came over, not taking him but sang softly while she rocked the
boy. It wasn't the best voice nor was it the best song but it seemed to sooth
him.
"I'll take him. Go on, finish eating."
"Of course, Lord Stark." She answered, her arms feeling strangely empty once
she passed Jaehaerys to him. How would she feel once they were parted for good?
-
Starfall
The journey had taken nearly a week of riding, and despite covering the cart
during the day the smell of rot was strengthening. Hopefully with one less
body, Ned could get something to cover up the stench until they were back in
the North where the chill would keep the body from reeking. Even as he neared
the gates of Starfall, he felt no fear.
Ashara would open the gates if not for him or her brother's body, then her
other brother Elric would for the sword. They all held their breaths as they
waited for the guard to return. And return he did with Ashara on his heels.
"Ned," Ashara greeted him. Her violet eyes were sad but she still smiled. She
had not changed much aside from a new softness to her face and figure. "Ser
Alford says you have brought home my brother and our ancestral blade. For that
House Dayne thanks you and welcomes you and your party to Starfall to rest
until you begin your journey again."
"Thank you, Lady Ashara. It's much appreciated, perhaps we can discuss matters
inside."
"Of course." Ashara signaled for two servants to take over the cart. "My
Maester can take care of the bodies. I'm sure you want your dead to be
preserved better for your journey."
"It's just Lyanna."
"Oh. Devan have some rooms prepared for our guests, their meals be brought to
their rooms and find a wet nurse for the babe. One willing to travel to
Winterfell. Yara, bring a meal and tea to my solar. It seems we have much to
discuss." She was sharp with her orders.
"Ashara," Amira called softly, not wanting to disturb Jaehaerys' quiet mood.
"If I may join you as well."
Ashara startled before agreeing and asking for two meals to be brought to her
solar, smiling just a little wider at her friend. Almost automatically, she led
Ned and Amira to her solar, making sure they kept quiet.
"And your brother?"
"He is with his wife, I'm afraid Soleil's pregnancy is much harder on her than
the Maester thought. She might lose the babe despite her resting for most of
its duration." She said grimly. "She may not make it either. I pray the Mother
will be merciful and that the Stranger will not come so soon, not after we've
lost so many. I do not think my brother could handle losing his first love."
When she opened the door to her solar, she was relieved to see food sitting at
the table. She ushered them in, telling the guard not to disturb her or any of
the guests.
"What happened?" She shot straight to the heart of the matter.
Ned looked guiltily before nodding to Amira to start the tale. Much of it Ned
had already heard, so he took Jon out of his swaddle as she went on. It was
only when she reached Ned's part did he speak.
"In King's Landing, I questioned Ser Barristan about Lyanna's kidnapping. I
wasn't sure if he was involved in Rhaegar's plan to spirit her away of not, so
I kept quiet about her willingly leaving. He admitted he didn't know where they
had been but that only Rhaegar returned and didn't tell anyone about the
special mission he had Ser Arthur, Ser Orsell and Lord Commander Gerold on. The
only clues he could give were remembering Rhaegar riding from Dorne, that it
couldn't have been far for he disappeared twice for a short while, and
overhearing Rhaegar speak of a tower to Connington.
"Howland, a handful of my bannermen and I left King's Landing as soon as we
could. No more than six accompanied us, Robert wasn't willing to spare men and
my own men weren't willing to follow a rumor, though Howland assured me he
would know and I didn't doubt him. Gods, Robert hadn't wanted me to go either,
we left in the dead of night." He paused reaching one handed for water. "We
found the tower eventually, we fought against each other after they refused to
answer my questions... Howland dealt a crippling blow and I-I struck the final
blow."
Ashara swallowed thickly, "Did he suffer?"
"I hoped not."
"Thank you for bringing him home." She offered a shaky smile but she didn't
like his non-answer.
"There is no need. If he had won, I know he would have done the same." Ned
sounded so sincere. And for a second she fell in love all over again.
"What happened in the tower?"
"Lyanna had given birth, there were complications and no maester around. Yue
did her best but we were undersupplied for this." Amira interrupted. "She only
held on for as long as she did for her babe and when she heard her brother's
voice she stayed a little longer."
Ashara finally looked at the babe in Ned's arms. Her heart nearly shattered, he
was perfect. Nearly all Stark, save the eye. The solemn eyes were entirely
Valyrian in color. He looked so much like her girl, she felt tears slip.
"He's Rhaegar's son isn't he?" She managed to croak.
"Yes," Ned would never deny her the truth. Ashara had been a close to his
heart, he knew she would not tell. "His name is Jaehaerys but I have been
calling him Jon. With such a grand Targaryen name, it would have been hard to
hide him from Robert."
"What will you tell him?" Ashara said surprise coloring her tone. She had
assumed he would admit it to be Lyanna's son and would ask for mercy for the
child, for his and Lyanna's blood.
"I hadn't thought of it yet."
"The Dornish serving here already knew I was pregnant, and they know my babe
was born still but I doubt word has reached King's Landing. Spread it far but
have your other maid spread the rumor that honorable Eddard Stark returned from
Dorne with his bastard. Never tell who the mother is, imply that the wet nurse
or I are possible mothers. Confuse them."
"No! I will not dishonor you like that!" Ned shouted, startling Jon to tears.
Amira was quick to take Jon, excusing herself to seek out the wet nurse only
asking that she be told of the final decision.
"But you would risk his life for yours? Robert approved of the sack, I lost
Elia and her children to the beast they call The Mountain. She was practically
my sister Ned, if I could have done anything to prevent it, I would've. Even if
it meant my honor or my life!" Her breathing was heavy and the tears had
returned.
All sense of propriety left him and he took her in his arms. Ned rocked her as
he would have rocked his siblings, rubbing her arms and back breath stuttering
when he felt smooth skin, he pressed kiss after kiss into her hair as she
sobbed.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Neither knew who was apologizing for what. Perhaps they both were or perhaps
neither spoke aloud just in their hearts and in their head.
After a while of rocking and soft apologies, her sobs had softened to a quiet
whimpering. Rather belatedly he offered her a handkerchief to clean her face. A
spike of guilt shot through him when he saw it was the one Catelyn gave him. He
may not know her very well but she was still his lady wife. Yet that didn't
stop him from giving Ashara comfort.
"Do it, Ned. The people already believe my honor has been tarnished, I don't
care what they think. I carried my child, a child I wanted. Let that not be in
vain. Let them believe you took the child for its safety. A Northern babe with
Stark looks would not live very happily in Dorne." Ashara smiled at him, it
faltered at the uneasy on his face. She took a chance to press their cheeks
together, shivering when she felt his stubble tickle her skin. He could feel
every breath she took. "Please, Ned. If not for me then for Lyanna."
Ned froze he could still hear Lyanna's voice, "Promise me, Ned."
"I will."
Chapter End Notes
     I'm not very subtle. Again I took creative liberties regarding canon.
***** Interlude: Ashara *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Ashara slumped as she watched Ned and them ride away. She wished she voiced her
desire, the one option that would have left her happy and Ned's honor intact.
Instead she bit her tongue and kept quiet about everything knowing Ned would
never leave Lyanna's boy, though she suspected Howland knew. That damn man
always knew.
"My lady, perhaps it is time for you to rest. You've done more than enough
today. Any petitioners left will be asked to come back later." Devan said
ushering her to her room. She waved him off swearing she would go to her room
soon. Many of the servants looked concerned with her moods of the late. With
good reason she supposed.
Her babe dead.
Her goodsister fallen ill.
Her favorite brother buried just three days ago.
How much more could she lose?
She took weary steps towards her room only to stop and stare. She saw her
relief if she only turned left. Perhaps she should...
Ashara stepped closer and closer, entering the empty tower. There were no
guards, most still patrolling the land or the castle and a handful accompanied
Ned's party to the land borders. Her feet were silent as she made her way up
the tower's many steps. The oval room above was simply decorated with maps and
tapestries of the house sigil and for a second she was distracted by the
potential she could change.
But it all changed when she spotted one of the windows still opened. It was a
rather tall window, tall and wide enough for a person to fall through. Ashara's
feet took her closer, one hand gripped the window covering as she leaned out.
The sight was dizzying yet it didn't stop her thoughts, she nearly took a step
when a polite but disinterested voice called to her.
"I would not do that if I were you, Lady Dayne."
She turned around so fast, that she would have slipped out had a man not
caught. A very familiar man in fact.
With a furrowed brow, Ashara spoke, "Varys? Jon? What are you doing here?"
"Come now Lady Dayne, we have much to discuss and too little time."
"Jon?"
"We must hurry milady. I do not think he will sleep for long."
"Sleep? Who is asleep?" Her voice rising with panic. And she froze as she heard
a babe's wai right next to her. Pale as milk and quiet as a mouse Ashara asked,
"Why do you have a babe with you?"
"That is what we need to discuss."
Early morning the servants tidying Palestorm Sword tower would notice the open
window, one would tut over it and move to close it. The bright glow of
something purple would make them pause before they would scream as they saw the
broken body of what seemed to be Lady Ashara at the base of Palestorm Sword.
With the sea already trying to claim her body, her knights scrambled to reach
her before the tide rose.
One could not take a look at the corpse and confirm that it was or wasn't the
lady. It was roughly the same size and weight of their lady but her face was so
badly damaged by the rocks it was impossible to tell. And yet she wore the last
clothing the servants had seen her in as well as the bracelets and jewellery
that had been gifts from her family, save a single plain necklace and a ring.
But the servants would not note it until they prepared her for burial later.
They would assume they were lost to the sea. Elric, Allyria and Gerold Dayne
were quiet with sadness as they buried the body of Ashara Dayne. The handmaiden
called Amira stayed quiet for she knew the truth.
Elsewhere, Septa Lemore would adjust her habit before reaching for the pale
haired babe, rocking him in time with the ship's movements and humming a
Dornish lullaby.
Chapter End Notes
     I love the Ashara is Lemore theory despite there being evidence
     against it. I did change a few details around Ashara's mysterious
     death, according to canon she threw herself after Ned's visit in
     early 283 but that contradicts with another piece that says Ned went
     to her right after the tower of joy events yet still returned to
     Winterfell with Jon in late 282. Also her body was never found in
     canon were as this gives a more permanent outcome. Any other
     questions just comment.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Dorne
They rode out of Dorne quick as if beasts were on their heels. The only trouble
they had was with Jon. The nurse maid, Wylla was struggling with him. Jon
seemed to sense the loss of his favorite caretaker and while he didn't
excessively cry or stop eating, he would not sleep as well as before. He stayed
awake and would look at Wylla with sad eyes. It was rather unnerving.
Jon would only be with Wylla for feedings otherwise he was in Ned's sling or
Yue's cradleboard. Occasionally Howland would take him and talk to him in the
old tongue. It unnerved Wylla. She had never left Dorne and was excited to see
somewhere different but now she was really regretting her choice. She resolved
to stay the first year only after hearing they would leave Lord Reed in the
swamp lands.
King's Landing
King's Landing though was exactly as she hear described: grand and beautiful
yet reeked like shit. Gold encrusted shit was how Lady Dayne described it.
Wylla had to agree, how it's occupants didn't notice was astounding for she
doubted it smelled any better before the war.
They were received rather quickly but she supposed that's what happens when you
have of of the rebellion's leaders and best friend to the new king. Not long
ago she would have been in awe of the castle and it's décor but all she saw was
wreckage of what was once the beauty of the Targaryen Dynasty. Portraits and
tapestries were ripped by swords of simply torn down. Blood still stained the
halls despite numerous pale servants scrubbing at the stone. Wylla herself
turned white when she caught a glimpse of a painting of her princess torn and
painted over into demonized version of her.
The throne room was no better, it was only sheer will and Yue's arm keeping her
from falling. Two very small blood stains -one barely bigger than the boy she
carried- were in front of the throne. No one had successfully cleaned them, for
every maid they sent would start crying. They may have not liked the Mad King
and respected the young prince & his wife but the little ones had been doted on
by the staff.
To see the boy's father bow for this man was disheartening. Would the boy she
nursed be another sacrifice to the stag king? Would this boy be killed and
cloaked in Stark colors rather than Lannister?
Similar questions ran through Ned's mind. Would he be able to go through with
his lies or would Robert see through his lies and know it was Lyanna's boy he
held? Would Jon's blood join that of his older siblings? Kneeling at Robert's
feet, he had a perfect view of the blood stains.
He remembered the night they arrived to King's Landing. Aerys dead and everyone
looked between him and Robert for what to do. There were people for him to be
king despite his own wishes to just go home. It didn't matter in the end,
Robert claimed the throne through blood tie relations.
When Ned asked where Princess Elia and her children were, a hush fell through
the room. Jaime Lannister, the pale faced Kingslayer replied, "Dead."
"What?!" Ned managed at the same time Robert gleefully shouted,
"Bring them out!"
Three Lannister men came out with bodies wrapped in Lannister cloaks. Despite
how small Elia was there didn't seem to be enough cloak to cover her
mutilation. Nothing could stop the horror on his face, it only worsen when he
saw how exuberant Robert became when they laid the children at his feet.
He was very tempted to lunge at Robert. He thought he was a better man than to
cheer for the deaths of children. He reprimanded Robert, with a voice of a
brittle and cold as ice, that this was not a joyous occasion. This was murder,
for the young prince and princess were not more than babes, and that their
assailants should be punished.
Robert had laughed, laughed as if it were no more than a boyish game. “I didn't
kill them, Ned. Any man who did was only doing their duty to their king.
Besides Ned," His face grew dark, "I see no babes, only dragonspawn.”
Ned had wanted to tear him apart of not with his hands then with his words. To
reveal an obvious truth to Robert's blinded mind.
She doesn't love you!
She never loved you!
She ran off with him because he was better than you!
But he didn't.
He was knocked out of his stupor by Robert's voice, "Rise my friend."
Robert's voice held a sliver of hope that Lyanna was merely hidden away, that
she was scared of any remaining Targaryen beasts. Oh how he would like to
reassure her that there were none left. Robert moved to embrace Ned but Ned
raised his hand.
"Robert, we need to talk... privately."
"Where's Lyanna? Bring her out here! I would like to see my betrothe, Ned.
These fools want me to marry some Lannister chit but I keep telling them I have
Lyanna."
"That is what I need to-"
"If that beast raped her, it is no matter. It was not her fault. But I have
freed her. The monster is dead and gone. She doesn't need to fe-"
"Lyanna is dead!" Ned roared.
Robert dropped the goblet he'd been drinking from. His choked noise the only
true sound in the room. Ned looked away from Robert, instead focusing his eyes
on Jon and Wylla.
"That is a cruel jest, Ned."
"It is no jest! I have her body with me. I am taking her home, I only came here
to tell you of her passing."
"Let me see her."
Ned's head snapped back to face Robert, disbelief spread over his face. He
shook his head.
"Let me see her, Ned." Robert growled. He turned to one of his Kingsguard.
"Bring her to me."
"I refuse to let you parade around my sister's remains. She deserves rest,
Robert. And she won't get it here, with you haunting her no better than a
ghost. I'm taking her home." Ned said with a finality that left no room for
argument.
"I'll go to her...please."
Too soft hearted, Lyanna always called him.
Ned sighed, "Come."
Robert ignored the cries of his council as well as petitioners to follow Ned
out. Not even ten feet away from the throne, Robert asked, "Who's the woman?
And the babe? Did Howland sire it?"
Ned didn't answer yet, just kept walking away from the prying eyes. He wasn't
sure if he could lie with so many present. The cart was not far from the
stables and he's sure Howland has charmed some girl to get him a meal while he
guarded Lyanna's body.
"He's my blood Robert. I had to bring him home. Dorne is no place for him."
"So I was right about Ashara." Robert said with a leer. Already the news of
Lyanna's death was gone from his mind now that he had new gossip. "Or was that
woman one of our camp followers? A lucky one it seems."
He didn't bother to keep his voice down. Wylla looked away blushing at his rude
suggestion. She cringed when she realized that Lord Stark wasn't confirming or
denying him. Yue had disappeared from her side the moment they left the throne
room. With how loudly the king spoke, she knew there would be rumors before the
day was out. She hoped they would only stay for the day and that they & the
Northern bannermen would leave.
Ned was right. Howland was eating and looking very relaxed but when anyone got
too near, his dagger appeared from thin air. He would say no words, just glare
at any who wanted a closer look. He guarded Lyanna's body like a new mother
guarded her young.
"Lord Reed."
Ned frowned at the mocking tone that was barely concealed in Robert's voice.
Thankfully Howland didn't respond with it...well he nodded which was better
than Ned expected.
"Show him, Lyanna."
Howland was smart enough not to fully uncover her, for Robert would've no doubt
recognized the crown of flowers resting in her hands. Ned felt uneasy as he
watched Robert nearly fondled her face.
"She shouldn't be buried in the cold. She deserves sun and clouds."
"She's my sister. She should be with family. What she deserves is to be alive.
To have her freedom to run through the Godswoods. To -" Ned choked, he nearly
revealed the truth. "To be home."
"Stay, for my wedding at least. If I have to marry, at the very least I can
have my brother at my side if I can't have her."
And he did for the Lannisters were ready for a wedding the very next day.
Cersei Lannister looked more smug than lovestruck as she rose up the steps
along with her father to where Robert and the Septon waited.
A sense of dread filled Ned as he watched Robert drape the stag cloak over
Cersei's shoulders. While he doesn't wish it was Lyanna in her place, he does
wish looking at her wouldn't fill him with unease.
The very next morning they left, much to the despair of many hungover men. Ned
could help his speed or the small smile on his face.
He was going back to Benjen.
To Winterfell.
Home.
Chapter End Notes
     Short chapter I think. I struggled a bit while writing this chapter,
     I hate King's Landing as well as Robert. But I pushed through it so I
     could go to Winterfell! But then there's Catelyn in the next few and
     I think I'll struggle too. Meanwhile my cold returned and I was
     emotionally stressed by my three nephews for much of the day, so I
     couldn't post till now. Next chapter should be up by Tuesday at the
     latest.
     Every comment and kudos so far has given me energy, never expected
     this fic to get much attention. So I'm very grateful.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Before we go to Winterfell we're back tracking a bit for Catelyn's
     POV. It's just to get a feel of her and her thoughts but will be fast
     paced. Howland is tricky to write cause I want him playful yet
     cryptic but I don't think I got it right. Also I realized that I
     forgot to send word of Ashara's death to King's Landing in the last
     chapter, that will be ratified this chapter. Next chapter is still
     being written and centers around the first three years of Jon's life
     in Winterfell but the Jon interlude that comes after is nearly
     finished and I'm so excited.
Late 281
Riverrun
It'd been three months since she's given birth and Catelyn Stark is no less
enamored with her son as she was the first time she held him. She cooed at her
child, a sweet faced boy. Catelyn pressed wet kisses all along his face,
enjoying the giggles he let out. There was pride at that fact alone, a son on
her first try oh the Seven have blessed her and her marriage with this boon.
But at the same time a coldness grips her heart. The son she loved was blessed
with Tully looks: large sky blue eyes, fiery red hair and thin face. Still she
would stare for hours trying to find a Stark feature but failed each time.
Catelyn worried that he would never love their son as much if he didn't look
Stark enough. She hoped seeing her Lord Husband again would make it easier for
her to spot them. She had hoped that having a son that looked like him would
soothe the pain of being forced to leave behind the woman he been courting.
Catelyn remembered how worried she had been before the Battle of Trident only
two months back. If they had lost, her handsome boy would've been no more. The
Mad King would have burned them all, uncaring of what consequences his actions
would have...much like his son.
When Catelyn heard that Rhaegar Targaryen had stolen away her soon-to-be good
sister, she had worried.
Would the actions of one Southern prince have Lord Rickard Stark breaking his
other Southern engagements?
She didn't know if he would or wouldn't have for he left for King's Landing
instead of continuing toward the Riverrun for her wedding, taking Brandon along
with him. She remembered falling when she heard the news of Brandon's death. It
hadn't mattered that they only met a handful of times, he was to be her
husband. She lost him before she could truly have him.
Lysa had appeared supportive and consoling in front of their father when in
private she had been cruel; one could even say her sister was smug that Catelyn
had lost the man she loved, just as Lysa lost her lover and her babe. Sadly
Lysa still didn't realize the Petyr's feelings were false, her having the child
would have done her no good. It was better that their father had done what he'd
done.
The deaths of Lord Stark and his eldest didn't deter her father, Rickard Stark
had promised Catelyn to be Lady of Winterfell. There were two more sons left,
and as word reached them of rebellion, House Tully had already cast their
stone, they were slighted against by the King when he took the life of
Catelyn's betrothe. They would not be loyal to a man who killed his subjects.
But her father also saw an opportunity in the form of a man desperate for more
men and honorable enough to fulfill his father's promise no matter the cost.
Eddard Stark, middle son and now Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.
Catelyn hadn't even been involved in the discussions before her father told her
of her new betrothal. She and her sister would be married off, she to the North
and Lysa to the aged Lord of the Eeryie. It was for the best he said of Lysa's
betrothal, only a man like Lord Arryn would not care of Lysa's past
transgressions and that it would only prove she was fertile enough to carry the
heirs he desperately needed.
She had never seen Eddard Stark before, heard of him yes when Brandon visited,
and now she was to marry him. Brandon would often say she was like his brother,
she had been unsure if it had been compliment or not. She hoped it was truth
for at least she assumed they would get along which was more than she could
ask.
That day she wept much of the morning of her wedding while Lysa stared cold and
dry eyed. Both were dressed in finery and escorted to the Godswoods for the
ceremony. It left Catelyn with unease to be marrying here for she was devote to
the Seven but she knew it had been Eddard's only request for their ceremony.
Catelyn could not bear for him to hate her anymore that he already did, if she
denied him this one thing.
Catelyn had been nervous the whole feast, they had barely talked despite
attempts on both their parts, in truth the long sentence he said to her the
whole time was his vows. She was dreading the bedding when it came. Her sister
stayed quiet as men hurried to undress her and guide her away to the west wing
while Catelyn fidgeted nervously next to her husband. She was grateful for his
next words, and Catelyn truly believe that moment was the start of her love for
him.
"There will be no bedding, I'd rather not anger the Gods by breaking one's jaw
on my wedding night." He announced to the men hungrily eyeing her.
He had been, for lack of a better word, gentle with her. He kept asking if he
hurt her or if such and such felt good. Eddard - Ned was good to her and for
that she would be grateful, for she had heard her fair share of horror stories.
They only had that one night before he left, taking along all but fifty of her
father's rebellion favoring bannermen. She did not know if it left her feeling
more shamed or less. But the wedding had begun to mend the rift between the
sisters, especially when neither woman's moon blood came.
Lysa had radiated with joy, convinced they both carried sons. How quickly Lysa
had been dissuaded for the next month her blood moon did come. The maesters
explained it was stress that had prevented it from passing it before or
possibly so effect of the moon tea she'd taken not long before.
It was as if all life left Lysa. She would not look at Catelyn or even be near
her for nearly the whole pregnancy. The only time they were in the same room
was to bear news of the rebellion from the maester, even that was a struggle.
Catelyn desperately missed her sisters, they had been joined at the hip once
long before Petyr had come in the picture and Catelyn has always thought
nothing would tear that bond.
And nothing had tore it.
It was more frayed than anything, only blood loyalty kept it together. Catelyn
swears that if she hasn't been scared and desperately crying for her sister as
she prepared to give birth, that the riff between them would've never healed.
Lysa had held her hand and talked her through most of it. She kept reminding
her it would only be one moment of pain for a lifetime of happiness. For that
Catelyn let Lysa hold her babe first. She hadn't expected Lysa's reaction to be
so severe as to burst into tears before passing him to Catelyn and running out
of the room. After that Catelyn, well she hadn't avoided her sister but she had
made excuses for Lysa not ever holding him.
And now that the war had been won and Robert Baratheon has taken the throne she
waited. She knew they would not come home instantly, for they likely still had
to calm the remaining dissent. Only word from her father reassuring her, Ned
was South dealing with the final remnants kept her sane. But still another
month since Trident had gone and past, even some of her Father's bannermen had
returned but her husband hadn't.
Then one day, it happened. A servant had burst into the room, out of breath but
shame faced. He quickly bowed and addresses her.
"Lady Stark, your Lord father has arrived...as well as your husband."
Keeping a tight hold on her son, Catelyn let herself be escorted out to meet
them. Whether they had been too slow or if Ned had only stopped to say his
farewell to her father she did not know, for only her father waited with a
strange mixture of angry and pity on his face as he gazed at her.
"Where is Ned?" Catelyn had asked, not the slightest bit embarrassed of her
lack of greeting. Her father would not meet her gaze. Not fully. "He has not
passed, a servant just said he arrived. Is he unwell?"
"He has gone ahead to prepare Winterfell for your arrival." Was all he said to
her. Lysa greeted him and Lord Arryn cool, the anger in her gaze the only sign
of her displeasure.
Anger burst through Catelyn, she had bore him a son! Was she not worthy enough?
Was she inferior to the woman he should have married? Was that why he left her
to be escorted by a squad of his men and not by the northern lord himself?
She attempted to hold her head up high, even though she was burning with anger,
as she greeted Lord Arryn and all High Lords. She escorted them to the main
hall where servants had already laid out food and ale. Catelyn was quick to
excuse herself, using her son as an excuse.
It didn't stop the whispers though trailing after her.
"He didn't even see his wife?"
"... forwarded from King's Landing..."
"Dark wings, dark words is right..."
"...threw herself off a tower..."
"...such a shame...his first ...course he took it hard..."
“Lady Stark?”
It took Catelyn a second to realize it was her they were talking to. "Yes?"
"Lord Stark sent this for you before he left."
Catelyn juggled her son into one arm and took the letter in the other. What did
he say here that he could not wait to tell her to her face?
Nothing.
The letter had nothing but apologies and excuses for leaving her. Winterfell
was not ready not for her or for their son. Benjen need him now. He needed to
bury Lyanna soon. He had to settle in before he could send for her.
"Thank you." She said tightly, her face rather pinched as she made her own
excuses.
-
The Neck
"You shouldn't have left without seeing her, without meeting your other son and
showing her yours." Howland drawled as he cleaned his nails with his short
knife. He sounded a bit amused towards the end as if he imagined some sort of
jest occurring. "No doubt she'll be angered when she arrives but then again she
is a Tully woman. Unlike the men, they can be quite like their sigil."
"Not with that flame hair." One of the men muttered but Ned overheard anyways.
"Always crazy those ones."
Ned glowered, that was the new Lady of Winterfell. Catelyn was always meant to
be Lady of Winterfell unlike him, he was only second son. He expected to marry
or perhaps join the Night's Watch.
Lyanna says - said - his mind still stumbled on only using past tense. Lyanna
said he was too boring and unadventurous in that regard, all until Ashara. Ned
grimaced before he nudged his horse to ride faster after Howland.
Ashara. His love - no, no longer his love, he made sure of that when he took
his vows - his friend was now dead.
Why had she done it?
Had she really been that hopeless?
He had thought her helping him, helping her goodsister would have occupied some
of her time, would've dulled the ache until she let go. Instead she lies in the
crypts in Dorne, never to see life with the sun she loved, doomed to darkness.
Howland had paused, he turned his horse to face Ned. "Her death is not your
fault. The Gods gave her a new path, one she takes no shame in walking."
Ned frowned, in the way Howland spoke, he made it sound as if she still lived.
But impossible, her brother Elric had been quite clear of her gruesome death in
his scroll. "Let us hope she doesn't suffer in her new life, that the Gods will
give her the child she longs for."
Howland's gaze flickered back to where Yue & Jon were riding comfortably. His
words go unspoken but Ned understands, he always does with Howland.
"He's the last bit of Lyanna I have. I couldn't just let him go." Ned said
lowly, he didn't want anyone to that Jon wasn't his son.
"Even if he could have been happier in Dorne as her bastard? Her family would
have welcomed him where as here in the rest of Westeros save the Neck, he'll be
treated as badly as vermin by most. High Lord father or not, that is how your
people treat bastards." Howland said bluntly. "You can still change your mind
and give him to me. Jyana would not mind."
"No, Howland. I can't. I lost enough already."
"Let us pray the Gods won't allow you anymore misery my friend..." After a
moment's hesitation, Howland continued, not wanting to burden Ned with anything
more. It would work out. He looked ahead and sighed. "We shall part soon. The
end of our path is near, and I can't be away from the cronnag any longer."
"Howland... Thank you. Without you I don't think I could have saved her. Who
knows what would have happened if you haven't..."
"Been coward who prefers to sneak around and has no sense of honor?" Howland
said in a teasing tone, but the hard edge in his voice still struck Ned. Many
believe the Cronnag way of fighting was cowardly; sneaking around, fighting
guerilla style, using poisons and daggers instead of one on one combat.
Ned shook his head, in doing so he spotted the familiar opening to the road
again. They would part soon but he wanted to talk just a little bit more. He
pulled aside, Howland following and gestured his men to move ahead as he said
his good byes. Howland got off his horse and walked towards Yue. She stayed her
horse and got off.
Howland was efficient in getting Jon out of his cradleboard, making sure the
blanket Amira had made was firmly tucked around him. Ned didn't know what he
said for he spoke in the Old Tongue but whatever it kept Jon from wailing at
his absence. Howland strapped him back in, making sure Yue was steady on her
horse before waving them off.
"I mean it, Howland. If any other man I brought had lived, they wouldn't have
stepped in. I would be dead, Lyanna would still be dead and Jon, he might've
died to. But that didn't happen, instead you did what you had to and save all
our lives. I would never ask you to change who you are."
"Flatterer," Howland laughed before getting serious. "I don't regret what I've
done for this war, I accepted the consequences that came with it. Have you?"
There was something about Howland's stare that made Ned feel smaller and
younger than he truly was. But he refused to crumble under his gaze.
"I don't regret it either but I still won't tell Catelyn the truth. I don't -"
"Trust her? If course you don't, you didn't even know her a day before you
married her for honor. Your honor bring your downfall one day." Howland said,
shaking his head. "But why tell her it's yours? It'd be more believable if it
was Brandon's, Gods know with his reputation he probably has one or two out
there.
"Or hells say it's Benjen's, say he was seduced by a maid trying to trap him.
It'll keep him by your side when you truly need him. Remember Ned, the lone
wolf dies but pack survives. Winter is coming old friend and I fear what will
happen if you separate from those you trust."
Ned froze, he did not like the implications of Howland's words. They had won
the war, surely the Gods were merciful enough to give them rest before hard
times come again. Ned refused to respond to his last words.
"I won't taint a dead man's honor nor that of my younger brother. I should've
done more for him, for all of them."
Howland sighed, he knew Ned would not listen right now, but he still tried to
assure him. He returned onto his horse, reins in his hand before he looked at
Ned again.
"And for the record, I wouldn't change you either...no matter what happens the
Neck will always be here to support you."
-
Winterfell
Seeing the gates of Winterfell open was the sweetest sight Ned had seen in a
long time. He and his men nearly bowled over there welcoming party when they
rode. Ned hadn't hesitated in jumping off his horse to embrace the dark haired
teen in from of him, ignoring the people dismounting around them and leading
the horses to the stables.
"I missed you,” Benjen told him, embracing Ned back just tightly. “I never felt
more alone than when you left. When the Night Brothers came asking for aid, I
practically begged them to stay more than a night."
Ned wanted to tease his brother for his hero worship of the Night's Watch but
at the moment he was focused on one thing.
"Is the crypt ready for their coffins?"
Benjen nearly stumbled, "I - ah, yes. We've gotten them ready. The stone
carvers are already working on Father's likeness."
"Tell them to begin on some for Brandon and Lyanna as well."
Benjen looked at his brother, despite his young age, his eyes had the same old
feel that Howland's had. "Really? It's not traditional."
"He deserves to know his mother's likeness one day."
"He?"
Ned had failed to inform Benjen of Jon's existence. He tried to keep it as much
of a secret as possible so word didn't reach unwanted ears.
"Come we must talk. Have Rodrick and any other able body help bring Lyanna's
coffin as well the coffers contain Father and Brandon's remains to the crypt."
Ned said as he turned to Yue, who already unseated herself to the horse. Jon,
still in his cradleboard was just staring in wonder as snow fell on his face.
She offer him to Ned, reminding him that Jon would be hungry in an hour's time.
Ned took the babe, and offered Benjen a piece of paper. "And send this to the
carvers, Howland designed Lyanna's statue himself."
"Is was she one of Brandon's? Is this his son?" Benjen hissed as he followed
after Ned, whose quick strides led him to the Godswoods. Benjen couldn't stop
looking back at the two women they had left behind, he could easily imagine
Brandon seducing either woman. "Brother, please tell me."
They finally stopped at the foot of the heart tree. Ned turn to face Benjen,
Jon unstrapped from his board and held out to him. Benjen was gentle and he
cradled the babe, just looking at him he could tell he was a Stark just from
expression alone.
"Just look at him and you'll know the truth."
Benjen gasped when he saw just what Ned meant. He had to really stare at the
wide eyed boy to see just how deep a violet his eyes were. "You and Ashara?!"
"No! He's not hers. Look again."
This time Benjen took time to eye every feature but it was hard to discern
features in a face so young and plump.
"I don't know. Save his eyes, he's all Stark." Benjen replied honestly.
"He's Lyanna's boy. Her and Rhaegar's."
Benjen looked between Ned and the boy. "Who else knows?"
"You, Lyanna's two maids Yue & Amira and Howland are the only living ones who
know. Ashara had helped stage this. Not even his wet nurse knows his true
parentage." Ned said quietly, he stared at the weirwood tree as if it would
give him all the answers. "I couldn't tell Jon Arryn or Robert of it, not after
what they sanctioned. And I can't tell Catelyn, I barely know her. You're the
only one I trust here."
"Why do you trust me? I failed you, I failed our family by letting her go!"
Benjen cried, suddenly looking his age rather than the man he was forced to be
during the war.
"I don't want to lose any more of my family. You were a child! You still are a
child! No one could have stopped Lyanna from doing what she wanted, especially
when she didn't want her only other option." Ned yelled back, his hands running
through his hair. "She was scared and Rhaegar, that fucking man took advantage
of her youth and desperation. I don't care if he met her over the year before
the rebellion. She was desperate for a better option than Robert and Rhaegar,
fucking Rhaegar came in like a knight in shining armor and took her. Do you
really think she'd stay with him after hearing our Father and brother died? He
isolated her in enemy territory, surrounded by his knights. She couldn't
leave!"
Benjen stood stunned, Ned never lost his temper not to this extent. That was
Brandon's thing. Even the babe didn't expect it, while he didn't cry his face
was twisted in discomfort.
"I'm sorry. I just wish... I want things as they were. But that won't happen
and I'm accepting my punishment. I'm going to the Wall." Benjen whispered.
"Perhaps not now, with the babes and your lady wife coming. But I am going Ned,
you can't stop me."
Ned's body drooped in defeat. "It's all I can ask for."
"What is his name anyways?" Benjen said looking at the last piece of his
sister.
"Jon. He'll be Jon Snow."
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     The struggle is real bruv when you have the second interlude finished
     and still need to write the chapter before it, tried something new by
     using snapshots of the most important bits of a few months rather
     than bore you with repetitive events. So the quality of this one
     might not be the best actually really rather clunky in some parts,
     but holy shit you guys are amazing this story has been live for such
     a short time and already has so many hits and kudos. Thank you so
     much. Other news I have two more stories in progress with rare pairs,
     and if you wanna see previews of the next chapters, other TBA works
     or have requests send them to my writing_blog which is still
     relatively new.
"Welcome home, Lady Stark." Ned said, moving to embrace Catelyn. He was careful
to be gentle and not harm their son, who was in his mother's arms.
Catelyn looked around at Winterfell, it was exactly as she pictured, even with
Brandon's vague descriptions. Everything was grey, even the bursts of foliage
here and there were dulled versions of what she'd grown with. Not much seemed
to grow around here, though she did spot a glass structure in the distance.
Would this place leech her out as well? Was she doomed to stay trapped inside
while her Winter children played outside without her?
"It's finally nice to see my husband again." Catelyn said with a tight smile.
She was still mad at him, nearly a week passed since her father's return. Three
days after he sent word to travel, that preparations were finished. She had to
endure the rumors alone, clutching Robb to her whenever he wasn't with Lissa
his wet nurse.
There was one rumor she hoped was false. One where Eddard had supposedly broken
their vows with a Dornish woman. That he'd return from Dorne, not only with the
body of his sister but a child as well.
It had to be false, everything she'd ever been told about Eddard revolved
around his honor. It was just impossible.
Still, she listened to every word.
They whispered of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, deadliest of the
seven knights of Aerys' Kingsguard, and of how their young lord had slain him
in single combat. Few would say Howland Reed had helped but the others would
scoff and say that Lord or not, the man was a coward.
And they talked of how afterward Ned had returned the remains of Ser Dayne and
the ancestral sword back to Dayne's beautiful young sister. That she had was
the one to welcome him into the castle called Starfall.
Catelyn had only seen the Lady Ashara Dayne once at a banquet celebrating the
birth of Viserys' birth and she remembers her beauty, tall and fair, with
haunting violet eyes. They were still girls then but even Catelyn could see how
men's eyes would fall to Lady Dayne's form, how Ashara barely a year older than
Cat had flirted unabashedly with them especially with the knight Selmy
Barristan, Lysa had been jealous for much of the night for even Petyr's eyes
would fall to Ashara.
Yet years later it would be Ned who would capture the heart of Ashara Dayne. In
fact she was the only woman Eddard had any interest in and had supposedly left
pregnant. Perhaps they assumed they would've married soon and likely would have
if it weren't for Catelyn and her father.
They say Lady Dayne begged him to let her keep their child. That Eddard said
no. That he'd barely left Starfall when she threw herself off a tower, so
consumed with grief.
She wanted to see for herself of the truth.
"My lord, if we may have a word in private..." Catelyn said pointedly. "I'm
afraid I heard unsavory things concerning you as we rode to Winterfell."
Ned stepped back a few feet, nearly faltering in his steps. It was obvious he
knew what she heard, it was all over his face. Catelyn knew now as she looked
at him, that her husband was a poor liar and always would be.
(Oh, how wrong she was.)
"Follow me." He said, after telling a man who surely had to be the elusive
Benjen Stark to take care of everything. The man had nodded and with ease
ordered servants and soldiers alike to unload everything before moving to help.
She wondered if they were those kind of people, the ones that while they had
servants often worked along side them unlike in the South where the division
was clear.
Catelyn adjusted her hold on Robb before walking after him, her steps hurried
as she tried to match his stride. He didn't even seem to notice her struggle,
too focused on what he would say.
He lead her to a corner room in what looked to be the family wing. What was
behind the door? Why was it filling her with dread to be near it? Would she
regret her marriage in the next moment?
Catelyn shook herself, taking a deep breath and steeling herself. She would
accept what ever came. She was Lady of Winterfell now, if she can't handle this
how would she survive?
She had not expected to enter a nursery, for a split second she fooled herself
into thinking he'd brought her there just to show it. But then she heard a
baby's gurgling and knew it wasn't Robb. Two women were already in the room,
one was asleep in a nearby cot and the other was standing over a crib. She took
a step closer, then another and another until she could look into the crib.
The babe lying in it couldn't be more than a few weeks old, so small and only
slightly fidgety, very unlike Robb who could move and lift his head. The babe's
looks were very familiar, she didn't have to search for the Stark features for
he was only made up of them. Dark hair, dark sad eyes, thick brows and sharp
nose.
A Stark child through and through, something no one could claim of her own son.
"Lord Stark, what is the meaning of this?" Catelyn said in a low voice.
"Jon. His name is Jon and he is mine."
Catelyn searched his face for a lie. She stiffened when she saw none. The
rumors were true, he had broken her vows. What had she expected? That he would
just turn loyal, loving and forget about the woman he'd been with the second he
married Catelyn?
It seemed she was wrong.
Her mouth puckered as if she smelled something foul, she glared down at the
babe in the crib. The dark hair woman who'd been standing - no, not standing -
guarding the babe shifted her body, her own eyes narrowing and Catelyn swore
she saw her hand twitch for something. The woman's gaze flickered just for a
second to Ned before she stopped, still not relaxing her stance. Catelyn knew
she made herself enemy of what was likely her husband's mistress, not that she
cared. All she wanted to know at the moment was why he thought it just for the
whore to be living with them.
"Husband, I said I would like to converse in privacy." Catelyn said coolly, her
voice as cold as winter winds. He nodded and they went back into the hall. This
time he led her to a room further in, he ushered her in with little grace. He
wasn't sure what her reaction would be.
"Lady, wh-"
"This is your son, your trueborn son." There was a strange emphasis in her
voice over the words. "I bore him while you were at war and cared for him
myself."
He looked down at his son, red hair and blue eyed, giving Ned a gummy smile.
"What is his name?"
"His name is Robert, after your boyhood friend and now our king. I've been
calling him Robb, no doubt others will start naming their boys after him. He
will always be important." She said quietly, tenderness blooming on her face,
and she lifted Robb enough to nuzzle his cheek.
Ned looked for permission to hold him, she did not hesitate in placing Robb in
his arms.
"He is our son. Swear to me he will always be important."
"Always. Children always are." Ned said as he looked down at his son. He didn't
notice Catelyn's scowl when she realized he included his bastard.
-
Hours later, after Catelyn had retired from festivities; Ned had left as well,
leaving his men to their food and drinks. He climbed the steps up to the
nursery, he was quiet as he entered. Three women were asleep in the room along
side the boys, but only one of them stirred.
"Come to see your sons, have you?"
"Yue...how have they been?"
"He loves his brother already. I hope that never changes."Yue said, rising to
stand next to Ned and they both stared at the boys curled together. "I hope she
doesn't poison him against Jon."
"She won't."
Yue caressed Jon, revealing in the soft feel of skin, he leaned against her
touch. Sweet boy, so affectionate. She'd only been in Catelyn Stark's presence
and already she knew Jon's life will be hard here in Winterfell. May the Gods
bless him.
"For both your sakes, I hope not."
She left the room, not saying where she was going or if she would return. Ned
took that chance to lift both boys into his arms, they squirmed before settling
as he sat down in a rocking chair. Even as he rocked, neither wet nurse
stirred.
"Robb, you will grow to be a good man and with proper tutelage, you'll grow be
a great lord. But none of that will matter if you are a terrible brother. How
you treat your family is a reflection of how you treat your people, never
mistreat Jon no matter what. He is our blood, you must care for those who have
your blood. We are wolves, we are nothing without our pack." He said even
though he knew Robb wouldn't understand or remember this talk. This talk was
more to reassure himself.
Jon looked up at him with sleepy eyes, as if asking if it was his turn next.
Ned smiled, kissed Jon's forehead.
"Jon Snow, you should be a Stark," A Targaryen, he should be Jaehaerys
Targaryen, his mind whispered cruelly. "I loved your mother more than life
itself. You will always have our love and the love of your family, nothing bad
will happen to you, so long as I live."
282
Month Two
"Oh, sweetling," Yue cooed. Jon was fussing in her arms, somehow he knew she
was leaving even though she avoided speaking of it around him. Jon was
observant, she would give him that. He was often in tune with Robb's moods, he
would cry with Robb even if he was feeling fine or he'd try to stay awake when
Robb was. He understood she was leaving. It was a little strange, there weren't
other babies who acted like that. At least not so young.
"I will be back. You won't notice my absence, not with Wylla and Eddard here."
She promised, fingers brushing his hair into neatness, settling him back in his
crib then she tucked the embroidered blanket around his waist. "See you have
Amira's love here with you. Be sure to grow strong."
Yue left, not wanting to look back at the soon to be sobbing child. Wylla was
standing out of the nursery, fidgeting as she waited for her orders.
"I won't ask you to love the boy, because it looks as if you already don't. But
do not mistreat him, for I will know and what you do to him will be done to you
tenfold." Yue's eyes bore deep into Wylla's eyes, Wylla flinched. She didn't
understand what it was about this woman that turned her so cowardice.
"I swear no harm will come to him. I will treat him like I've treated other
babes." Wylla swore, lifting her clenched fist over her heart. Yet she knew in
her heart it would not be the same. "But you will return won't you? Most
mothers often -"
"I am not his mother." Yue said quietly. "She is dead. She no longer matters."
Month Three
It took her too long to work up the courage to ask who the bastard's mother
was. By then Robb was attached to him, the bastard was giving everyone gummy
smiles while her Robb started to wiggle and push himself up to be closer. No
matter how many times she separated them they always ended up together or else
they would both wail hard. It embarrassed Catelyn to see how easy Wylla calmed
the bastard while both she and Lissa struggled calm Robb before giving up and
allowing it.
When her husband came to bed that night, she was still awake, surprising him.
Their interactions for the most part had been courteous, no doubt they would
have been so if he hadn't brought it home but she thought by now he would have
thawed. Especially since Ned came to her bed nearly every night, but not to bed
her as it was in his rights to demand. He would lie next her just to sleep.
Catelyn liked it, she thought it was nice to be intimate without having him rut
atop her like a beast. Sometimes she just thought he was lonely. She never let
her mind think of anything else, to do so would hurt.
Catelyn pulled back the furs to make room for him. They spoke about Robb and
the repairs to parts of the castle. When it seems he's ready to roll over and
sleep Catelyn finally asks, “Is Ashara Dayne Jon’s mother? Or is it one of the
others?”
Ned froze mid turn before slipping out of the bed, his grey eyes turning to
flints and face looked like it was carved from ice. “What did you say?”
She repeated her questions, trying to keep her voice firm.
“Where did you hear that name?” His voice so low and deadly, it came with the
promise of something dark and forbidden.
“Ned, I only - “
“Where did you hear that name?” He snarled, and Catelyn startled at the
uncharacteristic display of anger. Her grip tightened on the furs as she was
reminded just how much like Brandon, Ned was. Unlike Brandon, Ned had never
once raised his voice to her, whereas Brandon while drunk on mead had shook and
yelled at her twice before.
“From no one and everyone." She said rather evasively. "On the ride here, some
men talked of it - I do not know who, for everyone shared it. And then there
are servants spread their gossip and take note of your closeness to - “
“Give me their names,” Ned barked as he climbed from bed, throwing his clothing
on over his nightshirt with the speed and efficiency that spoke of a military
background.
“It is late at night, they should not - “ Catelyn hurriedly, trying to protect
her loyal servants.
“I will not ask you again, Catelyn.”
That voice again, her knuckles had to be white with how tight she held on. She
had to obey, it was in her vows. Tears slipped as she force her voice to remain
steady as she gave him the names. Laurel, one of her ladies and that of a
kitchen maid who was all too eager to tell her everything she needed. He
slammed her chamber door as he left, and it was only then she allowed herself
to shakily exhale, drawing her knees up to her chest as tears rolled down her
cheeks.
When Ned returned an hour later, body still tense with anger, but Catelyn met
his gaze unwaveringly, refusing to be cowed again. He did not enter her chamber
again; all he said was, “Do not ever say her name again within these walls, do
you understand?”
Catelyn nodded, inside she was filled with revulsion. It seemed Ashara Dayne
would always be more worthy and Catelyn wasn't even fit to speak her name.
“Yes, my lord.”
"And never ask me about Jon,” Ned said, cold as ice. The tilt of his head had
him glaring down at her. “He is my blood, and that is all you need to know."
He left her, presumably going to his own chambers and she was left alone.
Catelyn still hadn't stopped shaking. She had grossly underestimated his
reaction and how swiftly he acted. For from that day on she never heard the
name Ashara Dayne spoken aloud, let alone any rumors concerning which of the
two remaining options her husband had taken. His command had even made her
hesitate to think it.
In the years to come, Ned would apologize for countless things - an unkind word
here, a perceived slight there, a misspoken sentence, all things trivial
compared to what she really wanted him to apologize for - but never once did he
apologize for what happened that night.
It was almost as if, after sending away the maids, the night had not happened
at all, but Catelyn could not forget it. She was reminded of it every time he
caught Ned near one of those women. She could not even escape to her dreams;
for her mind would repeat the image of a man she didn't knkw, a man she was
sure she would never wanted to know. She hoped she had not made a mistake with
this marriage.
Month Four
"I want to discuss with what you plan to do with your bas—your naturalborn
son.” Catelyn said, stumbling over her words. It would not do to insult her
husband's progeny, that would not be the best basis for their marriage. She had
made that mistake before by bringing up Ashara Dayne. She did not want to face
that anger again.
“My plans?” Ned looked away from the boys asleep in their shared crib. He
didn't like the way she was looking at Jon. It left him feeling cold burn, much
like frostbite.
“Yes, there's a few holdfasts and houses we could foster him off at. Then again
Dorne is quite accommodating to his kind. Or perhaps a Northern house, like the
Karstarks or—” Catelyn said, with a gentle smile. It would be easy to convince
him to do it, it would be better for their happiness.
“He will be staying with me.”
Catelyn’s smile fell. “I'm sorry? I- I don't understand...”
“Jon will stay here, grow alongside our son. He and Robb will be raised as
brothers.”
Catelyn’s throat gained a lump as she struggled to formulate the words. “B-but,
he's not trueborn! He's a stain on your honor! And what of Robb?"
“Robb is my oldest child. He will be my heir unless God forbid, something
happens to both of us.” Ned tried to remain calm, he didn't want to fight with
Catelyn nor did he want to wake the boys. Catelyn didn't have that issue.
“Exactly! What if your child intends hurt him?” Catelyn asked, the words
spilling out before she could stop herself.
Ned’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“He is your son, not mine." She hissed, "If you raise him like a lord, you'll
make him believe he has a right to this! And what happens to Robb? He'll become
an obstacle."
“He's only a babe who can barely roll on his stomach, the worst he can do is
drool on Robb. Robb's already attached to him, look," Ned gestured for her to
look in the crib again. Robb had wiggled closer to Jon, one hand firmly fisted
in Jon's blanket. "They already love each other, a love that will keep growing
if they are raised as brothers. Or do you want me to send away every son we
ever have?"
“That is different!” Catelyn protested hotly. She might've been able to over
look his indiscretion, if he had kept it out of sight and not paraded him in
front of her. But he was never from her sight, constantly clinging to her son.
“That thing is nothing more than a bastard, he's not blood. He must go! He—!"
“He is my blood!” Ned shouted back, the declaration startling both babes into
awareness and both began to wail. "It doesn't matter whether or not he has your
blood, he is still a Stark!"
They both were taken back by the declaration, hearing him repeat his words from
that night silenced her and for the longest time, neither of them said anything
as they each grabbed a babe to settle.
“Nothing you say will change my decision. Do not test me on this, Catelyn.”
Month Seven
Ned was unsure of what to make of Wylla. Jon's nurse maid was far superior to
Robb's in every way but there was a detachment from her care unlike Robb's.
There were many differences that Ned did not like.
Lissa would coo and carry Robb everywhere whereas Wylla avoided touching Jon
other than necessary. Wylla would occasionally sing to Jon but Lissa would
always play with Robb. He never even noticed Wylla hold Jon just to hold him or
press kiss upon him.
At first he thought it was just the age differences. He had already seen Robb
do this or that at that age and Ned seemed to find himself disappointed when
Jon didn't do it. Except he could do it.
When Yue was visiting, Jon was as cheerful and playful as Robb. He happily
squealed and flailed whenever he saw Yue's face. He liked rolling on his belly
and grinning at Ned when he walked into the nursery. He babbled with Robb,
making lip smacking noises at each other.
Then when Yue left, he was back to the sullen behavior around Wylla. He would
stay cheerful around Ned and Robb. Ned had talked to Wylla many times, nearly
begging her to show Jon affection and she said she would try or try to make
excuses.
Ned understood missing home but this was why Ashara had wanted a nurse who
would travel. Winterfell was a remote place, it was the polar opposite of
Dorne. But it was no excuse for the lack of affection.
He could not afford to let Wylla go so soon. Jon was not yet old enough to be
weaned, Maester Luwin insisted he need to nurse for as long as possible after
finally prying dome details from Ned about the birth. Ned doubted Lissa would
offer to take on another babe, she would see it as a strike against her
mistress.
For now Jon would have to endure, Ned headed to the Maester's Turret. He would
send a raven to the last known location of Yue and ask her to return early.
Month Ten
"It's much colder than anything I've ever felt. I thought you were exaggerating
when you gave me these clothes." Amira said with a sniffle. Even in the heavy
winter clothes, Amira was still cold. But she wanted so see Jaehaerys - no, Jon
- again and it was the only time she could be spared while the household went
to see the Martells for the annual festival.
"And it's not even fully into winter." Yue said, amusement shining through her
eyes. "It can get much worse. But the bright side, you'll get to see snow for
the first time."
"I'm not a child, I'm not going to get excited over frozen water." Amira
pouted. Though she really was excited, but she was a grown woman.
"It's more than frozen water, it's like a blanket that makes everything
beautiful. Probably the only thing I really miss about living the North. You'll
see."
And see she did, Yue was right. Snow was cold and soft, it hide unpleasant
things from sight and added a quiet beauty to everything. Winterfell was
covered in it, it look rather soothing with the blue and grey tones everywhere.
"Should we go see Lord Stark first or can we go see him now?" Amira said
looking very excited, she was nearly vibrating in her clothes with
anticipation...or perhaps she was very cold.
"Let's get our horses to the stable before we do anything."
"Right, I forgot." She said, looking sheepish. "Where do we...?"
"Stay close, the layout is rather large and confusing for new comers. If you
ever get lost, remember we entered through the south gate which is near the
smith. Our rooms are right over there," She said, first pointing to a building
to their left where a man was working over something then across the yard to
another building. A part of Yue was amused how open Amira could be, but then
again they grew up very differently.
"Got it." Amira said while she dismounted. She followed Yue into the stables,
taking off their packs before handing off the reins. "Now can we go? You've
seen him recently and you write letter but those are nothing compared to seeing
him again in person. Is his hair still dark? Are his eyes more like his
father's or have they changed?"
"You'll see him soon. But we'll never get anywhere if you don't keep your mouth
shut. Ned is used to my visits, so we can go see him later...I'm sorry about
the stares."
"Hmm?" Amira stopped looking at the scenery and focused on how the people of
Winterfell stared.
Surely they had seen a Dornish person before? A blush came over her face, she
hadn't realized just how badly she stood out. She felt as if she was back in
King's Landing, she could feel her body trying to bow under the weight of their
stares. She shook herself, she would remain unbowed, unbent and unbroken. She
may not be a Martell but their house words were something to live by,
especially in places like this.
Yue was quickly to guide Amira to the Great Keep, past where their rooms were
straight to the nearby nursery. She knocked on the door before entering. On the
floor with Ned Stark were his sons, the red haired Robb and the dark curly
haired Jon.
"Jae- Jon." Amira softly gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh, look at
you."
Jon looked at the new visitors and squealed. He scrambled away from his father
and brother, off the fur pile. The second his hands touch cold stone, he began
whining but it didn't deter him from crawling to her. He stood shakily,
smacking his sticky hand on her leg.
Amira bent over and held him close, tears falling much faster.
"He's not afraid. He remembers me." She kept repeating as Jon looked at her
curiously before pressing slobbery kisses on her cheeks and nose. Yue tapped
Jon's shoulder and made a silly face. Jon laughed, rocking back and forth
between both women but never truly leaving Amira's arms.
Robb seemed a little jealous of the attention, and growled like an animal. Jon
turned away from Amira, a small scowl forming. He made his own unhappy whine,
then gave a smacking kiss to Robb who quieted but clearly still wasn't happy.
"He's adorable." Amira said, sitting on the floor next to Ned. Her eyes were on
Robb though. "Takes after his mother, doesn't he?"
"In looks, though I'm not sure who he takes in personality yet."
"We always hope they take the best traits." Amira said, sitting Jon down in
front of her. Robb stumbled towards them on clumsy feet and the two started
play again. She played with Jon's hair, watching the hair smooth then spring
back to curls. "There are some who do take the worst in the best ways. Oberyn's
oldest girl is a wild thing just like him."
"He's too much like his Father." Ned said quietly, eyes shifting from the boys
to the still open door. Yue came in, closing the door behind her before leaning
against it.
"How so?" Amira asked, waving him on.
"His eyes."
"Well, that's obvious."
"No, he means the emotions he shows." Yue said, exasperation evident in her
voice. Anyone who looked at Jon and knew his true father would see it.
"I know what he meant. Jon is his Father's son. He was a sad child as well,
given how his father was to his lady mother. Such a terrible man." She spat,
wrinkling her nose in disgust. "But Jon laughs more easily like his mother."
"That he does. He can be a cheerful child but it's difficult when Wylla doesn't
dote on him and Cat, she doesn't like it when I'm near him." Ned said looking
rather ashamed. "I try to split my time fairly but with so many duties I can't
-"
"The fact that you try is enough."
Though both women actually thought differently, trying is never enough. Amira
wished she'd talked him into giving Jon to Ashara, now her lady was gone and
Amira had no idea where she was or who she was with. Yue had thought it'd be a
mercy send Jon away while he was still young. She's given him council on
handful of his and Catelyn's arguments.
"It's nearly his birthday. Is there anything planned?"
"Are you planning on staying?"
"I can't. The Daynes will be back from the festival in two weeks time and I
have to return by then. But would like to send gifts."
"I don't think that would be wise. People might get the wrong message." Ned
said looking uneasy.
"I already have commissioned a pair of rolling horses for them. No favoritism,
no one needs to know who sent them." Amira said with ease. "Honestly it's not
different than when I get gifts for my nephews. He is family even if it's not
through blood."
"It would be rude to not accept it. And Amira was rather poor at cards, she is
still indebted to Lyanna. Take the horses as payment." Yue pointed out, though
they all knew it was a thin excuse.
Ned sighed, he knew when he was beat. Or rather he knew when to give up, for
the two can needle their way in and put of things with no thought of time
constraints. He stood, excusing himself.
"Oh, I almost forgot. May we visit the crypts tonight? Tonight is a holy night
in Dorne, we remember the dead and honor their lives." Amira said with a fond
smile. "She deserves to be honored, Ned."
"Of course, will you be needing anything?"
"Just a meal in our room, and the reassurance that no one will disturb us."
Ned nodded, leaving them alone.
"Is it always like this?"
"No."
"Fatherhood suits him."
"Such a shame it only extends to its fullest potential in private."
-
The moon was bright and heavy in the dark sky as the two women walked through
the courtyard, their steps barely making a sound. The guards watched as these
women practically ghosted over the land, both of them looking ethereal in their
own way. The one leading looked like a warrior maid, her strong presence
washing over them like a wave as she carried a sack over her shoulder. Her
companion looked like a dryad in her flowy gold dress that glowed under
moonlight, in her arms she carried something wrapped in furs. No man crossed
their path, not only because of Lord Stark's order but rather they did not want
to risk being cursed by the Gods if these women were their servants.
Yue walked further into the crypts, one hand firmly laced with Amira's the
other holding a torch. The deeper they went, the more lit torches they passed,
till eventually theirs was unnecessary.
Lyanna's grave was exactly as Howland had drawn it. From what Yue had told her,
Ned had gotten more skilled carvers who worked with marble to do Lyanna's. The
statue was very much in Lyanna's likeness, it looked alive and waiting for
someone to come. The figure sat over the stone casket, hooded head tilted
slightly to the side as if she were trying to listen better, and a wreath of
roses in one hand while the other was stretched back almost inviting her
mourner to sit with her.
Yue took off her fur lined cloak, settling it on the ground before she opened
the sack and pulled everything out. Amira passed her Jon then began setting up
the altar. First she lit a pair of white candles, then laid a pair of bowls on
the stone casket: one full of salt, the other of sand. In the sand one, she
stuck & lit a few sticks of incenses. Then she laid a few of Lyanna's favorite
foods like honeyed fruit, dried meats and decorative breads, along with a cup
of water. The last thing she presented to the altar was a crown of roses, a
little wilted but still lovely. Amira laid them over Lyanna's head, making sure
it didn't fall before sitting.
In the cold air of the crypts, she felt very at home just looking at the altar,
she leaned against the opposite wall and stared at her work. It wasn't as grand
or elaborate as some found at home but it suited Lyanna.
"Do you remember that day in the tower when we filled every cup, bowl and pot
with water and hid them in up above in our chambers?" Yue starts them,
revealing Jon's sleeping face as she did. Amira grinned she remembers that day
well. "Lya had been so bored and so pregnant, we made it our mission to make
her happy. That night we dumped water on all the guards when they were changing
shifts, I never heard grown men scream like sheep."
"Remember how hard she laughed, it was worth the scolding Arthur have us
later."
Yue snorted, "He never scolded you, he had a soft spot the size of King's
Landing for you. I hardly call his soft whispers a scolding. Even Lyanna
thought he'd leave the Kingsguard for you."
"You exaggerate, it was never about that. We only ever talked, he - he
understood that I didn't want...well. He could have stayed a Kingsguard for a
long time with how we were." Amira said flushing, it was impossible not to know
each other's most intimate secrets after living in such closed quarters. "Do
you remember when Lyanna got so mad at me for eating the last of jam, she snuck
outside, right past the guards and got shit to sheep shift my bed?"
Yue laughed, wiping tears from her eyes, "Gods, she'd forgotten that she sleeps
with us. The room reeked for days and we slept under the stars with the men
hovering over us."
"Maahh."
Both women startled, looking down at Jon who'd woken from their laughter. Yue
shifted Jon so he could properly look at Lyanna's statue.
"Would you like to hear more about your mother, sweetling?"
Year One Month Two
Ned expected Jon to be fussy and a bit unmanageable once Wylla left but the boy
was fine. More than fine really, while he was technically under the care of two
maids now, Mikken's wife Dinah would check on Jon often taking over. Dinah was
childless and often cared for other servants' children.
"Dee! Dee!" Jon shrieked from his spot on the floor. Dinah smiled at him. "Jon
walk."
Dinah watched as Jon stood, he grinned and bounced but he had yet to take a
step forward. He tried to take a step forward then another and on the third
step he fell on his bum.
"Oh, oh no, shh, shh, don't cry," Dinah murmured, gently wiping any tears that
slipped and fully calmed him before he wailed. She tried not to overreact,
whenever you overreact a child feeds off it in a poor way. "Come on, come on,
I'm here."
She got him to stand again, this time she had her arms hovering near him if he
wanted support. But Jon didn't want to walk again, he sat right back down and
Dinah clicked her tongue.
"You won't be carried forever, Jon. Don't you want to run and play with your
brother?"
"Noo! Noo!" Jon whined, shaking his head vigorously. He didn't like being left
behind. "Robb play! Jon play!"
"Would you like to try helping, Lord Stark?" Dinah asked, wondering why the
Lord was in here when he should have been meeting with the men of the Night's
Watch.
"I have a better idea." Ned said looking down at the letter delivered.
Less than three days later, the fruits of Ned's idea came. Ned, Dinah, Lissa,
and even Catelyn were there with the boys in the Great Hall. The Great Hall had
been cleared, the tables pushed back so there was more space for them. Robb was
already running around, bored but Jon sat patiently at Dinah's foot.
"Why are we here, Ned? We got no notice of visitors."
"Hush, Cat. She'll be here soon."
No sooner than he'd spoken did the door open and in walked Yue followed by a
few stable hands trailing her. She pointed to the spot in front of Ned and his
group and they began dropping things off.
A chest, two carved horses, and a crate.
"I've brought gifts. For Jon's name day." She said with a faint smile. Robb and
Jon's eyes both widen, Robb immediately tried to go for them but Catelyn
grabbed him before he could.
"Welcome, now if you would excuse us." Catelyn said trying to hurry herself and
Robb out.
"No need, I forgot Robb's name day too. These gifts are for him too." Yue
smirked, liking how uncomfortable Catelyn looked when she heard Yue's words.
"Please? Please? Please!" Robb begged his mother, tugging on her grip. "Mommy,
stop! Arm hurts a lot!"
Cat flinched immediately letting him go. Robb rubbed his arm, he looked a
little fearful of his mother. Ned looked taken aback, it was the last straw for
Cat. She left the room, face burning.
"Go ahead, Robb." Ned nudged his son towards Yue.
Robb was a little shy, he'd been around the woman only a few time and she was
kind but Mommy didn't like her. But Yue stayed still, neither coaxing nor
stopping Robb, instead waiting for him to come close on his own. Robb did step
forward and it seemed to clue Jon on what to do.
Jon crawled forward right next to Robb, when Robb stopped and turned to him.
"Jon," Robb said tugging on his brother's arm, forcing him to stand. "Walk."
Jon tilted his head and held on to Robb.
"Walk!"
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Jon lets go.
He takes another step without Robb, then another and another untill he was
standing in front of Yue. They all smiled, even Lissa.
"Good job!" Yue cheered, clapping.
Jon looked back at his father and giggled when he saw him smile. He copied Yue,
falling down when he went off balance. He looked surprised but he didn't cry.
"Horses, a grey one for Robb and a white one for Jon." Yue said, patting the
painted horse. They were both low enough to the ground so they could
comfortably climb onto and sit on it. The details into not just by the carvers
but by the painters was amazing. For Jon's, it was pure white even the mane and
tail but it's eyes were a deep indigo much like his eyes. The saddle had blue &
purple scale-like detailing and the bridle had a pair of blue roses. Robb's on
the other hand was various shades of grey & black, the other detailing was made
up of green or blue accents and red trouts.
Robb got on and started peddling himself around, Jon liked climbing up and
pushed himself a foot before climbing off then repeating it all over again.
"Ma, play. Jon, play!" Jon yelled, wiggling on his horse and waiting for her to
push. Yue paled, she and Ned shared a look but went ahead.
"And the rest of the gifts?"
"Play! Play! Play!" Both boys yelled chasing each other. It was hard to believe
that only that morning Jon was unwilling to walk by himself.
Year One Month Five
Jon rocked on his feet as he stared at the door. Father said Yue was coming
that day. Jon was very bored and lonely, Robb was with his Mother visiting her
family.
"Boo!"
Jon squeaked, jumping. He quickly turned around but found no one was there.
"Hello?" He yelled with a tremble in his voice.
"Hello!"
Jon giggled, twitching and squirming under tickling hands.
"Ma! Stop." Jon whined, her hands stilled. It still made her uncomfortable when
he called her Ma. How do you explain to a child that you're not his mother?
"Hello, Jon." Yue said, leaning and pressing their cheeks together. Her arms
embraced him tight. She could feel Jon smiling against her cheek. "Are you
happy to see me again?"
Jon nodded his head yes.
"What would you like to do?" Jon shrugged. "Can you show me your favorite
place?"
Jon nodded, slipping out of Yue's arms and holding her hand.
"Dinah's bees." He said, stretching the final word. Yue snorted at how
ridiculous he looked, but let him skip forward still chanting, "Bees, bees,
bees!"
Year One Month Nine
The castle was bursting with activity as they prepared for Robb's second
birthday. It was a much grander affair than his first for he would remember
this one. As much as he liked giving his son this attention, he also dreaded
the party. It was many things but most of all the fact Jon was unable to be
part of it, made it impossible not to feel guilty.
Preparations left Ned busy for the week, he hadn't see Jon awake in days. He
visited deep in the night, when Jon was asleep all alone, curled up with the
stuff dragon Amira gave him. Ned frowned, noticing Robb wasn't in the room as
well as the dried tears on Jon's cheeks. He didn't know why Jon was crying, he
didn't know that Jon had been left alone by everyone, that he didn't see anyone
besides a servant who brought him food for the past few days. That he felt so
lonely now that Dinah was dead and Yue had yet to return from her latest
excursion.
Guilt coursed through him, he was failing Lyanna. He promised to himself that
he would set aside time tomorrow for Jon and tell Cat that Jon would be allowed
to be at Robb's party.
He saw Robb more often, Ned and Cat would ask for his opinion in everything.
But Ned hadn't realized that Robb wasn't seeing Jon either, but it became
apparent as Ned overheard Cat and Robb's conversation.
"Mother, I wanna see Jon. Can I go play?"
"Go play with the visiting children, you see him all the time. You need to be a
good host."
Robb scowled, stomping past his father. He wanted to play with Jon, Mother
caught him every time he tried to sneak off to see Jon. She kept saying he had
to be a good boy and play with everyone else, but why couldn't Jon be there
too? The other kids were older than him and treated him like a baby. He wasn't
a baby.
Ned wasn't happy either, and that showed on his face as he entered the room.
Cat stiffened, realizing he knew.
"You will stop this, Cat. I've told you before, Jon is just as much my blood as
Robb is. You can't stop them from being together, they're brothers. I won't
allow you to treat him as anything lesser." Ned said, looking very disappointed
in her.
"I tolerate his presence every day, this day should be Robb's excitement, not a
humiliation. No one will focus on him if they're too busy staring at the
bastard child next to him."
"I will concede Jon can't be at the party, but you will no longer stop him from
seeing his brother Cat. If I hear you've separated them again, I will send you
back to the Riverlands for you to reflect on your behavior. I will not bring
you back until you improve." Ned stated, he would not be swayed. He's allowed
Cat's mistreatment far too long. He'd rather not threaten her with temporary
exile but he sees no other choice.
Catelyn looked down at her hands, curling them into fists. She would not let
herself be separated from her son all because she hated her husband's bastard.
"I will stop."
Year Two
Amira fiddled with the chain, twirling the wolf token between her fingers.
Obsidian, somewhat rare now as the only two places near Westeros are
Dragonstone which taken over by Baratheons and Old Valryia taken over by
greyscale victims, she didn't know which was worse. A very beautiful stone,
most people don't see it's beauty anymore. Not when it's associated with the
Mad King.
She remembered how she got this piece, so many years ago when they were all
still children. She, Elia and Ashara ran through the halls of Dragonstone,
their laughter the only joyous sound in the castle. That all changed when Elia
started coughing, she slipped, scraping her knee and knocking into a stand.
All three girls froze as they watched it fall and shatter. What was once been a
dragonglass skull was now in various sized pieces. Instinctively Amira had
picked up and shoved Elia towards Ashara. Amira already started gathering
pieces onto her apron.
"Go, I'll deal with this."
"But," Elia started, Ashara grabbed her hand and hid just in time for Prince
Rhaegar and one of his guards stepped through the room. Amira had been so
scared as Rhaegar looked between her and the pieces.
In an instant, he was at her side, picking up with her but as if the world was
against them, King Aerys had come in with Elia's father and their entourage.
Rhaegar stood, no fear on his face and stepping forward to guard Amira.
"I broke it. She's dealing with the mess." He said before his father could
speak.
"I'll deal with you later." Aerys sneered, walking away.
"Thank you, my prince." Amira said, once she was sure his father was gone.
"No need, I know who truly broke it." Rhaegar said with a small smile.
Amira had kept this piece as a momento, no one had noticed it was missing and
now she used it for something better.
The closest thing to Rhaegar she could actually give Jon. One day she would
give him something better.
A name and a brother.
283
Year Two Month Four
"Oh, look at how you've grown. You look so much like your lady mother." Yue
laughed embracing Jon. It'd nearly been three months since she last saw. She
tipped his chin up to take a look at his eyes. She could see his Father's eyes
staring right back at her. "But you have your Father's sadness, my sad eyed
sweetling."
Jon frowned, he knew Father looked sad but that didn't mean he was.
"But Father laughs and smiles. He's not sad." Jon said, still confused.
Yue's mouth twitched, part of her - likely the part already buried under a few
cups of wine -wanted to cry and the other part was still aware enough to keep
her trap shut. She knew she should've waited till morning to see Jon but he'd
been so eager to see her and she doubted he was getting much affection.
She took another gulp of wine. She looked down at it after she swallowed, maybe
she should stop.
"Hush now, don't look at me with those solem eyes, it makes me sad to see you
like this. You should be happy Jon, you should have a Mother and Father who
love you. Instead you're relying on me for that, you life could've been so much
better but it's not and I hate seeing you like this. With eyes that say you're
done with the world before you've even started."
Jon looked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. He didn't understand. He
wasn't sad, yes he wanted a Mother of his own and for Father to love him like
he loved Robb but he wasn't sad. Jon was about to open his mouth to say so when
he saw how pale she looked.
"Ma?"
"Gods, forgive I did not mean to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Yue
whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. She dropped her wine, ignored the spill
as she took Jon into her arms. She carded her fingers through his hair and
rocked to & fro. "I'm so sorry, Jon. I'm a foolish woman. Not all words I say
are truth, but my next ones are. You are loved, Jon Snow. Never doubt that.
Those who do, they know nothing."
Jon could smell the bittersweet scent of the wine on her breath, he didn't like
the smell but still she was sad. He pressed against her as much as he could.
Warmth filled his body as he thought on her words.
Year Two Month Ten
Pain.
All Jon Snow knew at the moment was pain. His skin itched so much with all the
red bumps covering it, his body burned to the touch. It hurt breathing for
every time he took a breath, he let it out in coughs that left a bloody taste
in his mouth.
"Ma! Ama!" Jon croaked, tears streaming down his face as he tried to reach for
people who weren't there. Maester Luwin looked down at the boy sadly, the
fourth day and the red spotting had only increased; not a single oatmeal bath
eased it, he started coughing last night and hadn't stopped.
"I'm here, sweetling. Ma's here. She'll make everything better." Yue cried,
rushing in, her pack bulging in a way it hadn't before. "I can take over,
Maester. I just need to know who got sick first and if they're better."
"Few of the boys from Winter Town were sick and I offered my services but it
didn't reach the castle until two weeks ago. Robb was sick for the past week
but he's all better."
"Did you clean your tools? Burn your robes before visiting others?" She asked,
as she dumped the dirty water into one of the chamber pots and refilled it with
fresh & clean water. She grabbed her pack and took out many things: clean
cloths, her mortar and pestle, a few different pots, bags upon bags of herbs, a
pot of honey, many other things Maester Luwin's never seen and a standard
medical kit all onto the changing table.
"Yes, I made sure so it wouldn't spread. I don't know how it got spread to the
castle. But Jon is the only one to get this bad."
"I'll take care of him. Just go find the source and make sure any maid who
comes with meals has had the disease befoee. They can't get infected twice,
keep this wing clear of people and it won't spread any further." She ordered as
she stripped Jon down to his small clothes.
She took a good look at his body, lifting him up to see his back and cringing
at the sight of pus leaking from a few bumps. Maester Luwin took his own look
and offered to get fresh water delivered here. She gladly accepted his offer.
Yue wiped Jon's face of sweat, and began checking more than just his
appearance. He was overheating, his throat felt swollen and his breathing
sounded rough. She pressed her horn against his chest and listened, his
breathing sound wet and wheezy.
"Ma?"
"I'm here. You'll be fine."
She left his side to sort through her herbs, neem was her usual treatment for
pox but Jon was much too young for the strong oils. Jasmine tea would soothe
him and paired with an oatmeal bath, it'd eased the itching. But until more
water was brought, she had to use honey.
Honey would ease the redness and itching, there wouldn't be as many scars if he
survived... She shook herself, he would survive. She would make sure of it.
For the next few days she was all alone in caring for Jon. She was running low
on jasmine and was now going through the ginger. Jon's breathing had gotten
better with the more tea he drank but then it got worse. She tried other
concoctions, each more foul tasting than the last and each improving him for a
time before he starts vomiting. She stopped instead just leaving him with
water.
What was worse his fever hadn't dropped. Every time he opened his eyes, they
were glassy and unfocused. He didn't register her much.
Not even when she tried waking him up from his nightmares. Yue felt helpless,
if Maester Luwin couldn't help Jon and her own treatments were working either.
And now his mind won't leave him alone.
"Fire! Dragons!" Jon sobbed, trying to get up from his bed. Yue tried to keep
him down, the pus filled bumps reopening and leaking as he weakly flailed
about. "Ma! Ma! Help!"
"I'm so sorry," She whispered, being firm as she kept him down with on hand and
took the vial of Essence of Nightshade. Just a few drops so he'd sleep with no
dreams. Just for a night.
Jon calmed down slowly after that, she cleaned her hands quickly and pet his
hair, murmuring sweet tales to soothe him even further. She felt so guilty for
using Nightshade but what else could she do. Once he was asleep, she pulled
away and cleaned what she could. A knock sounded through the room, a quick
glance at Jon, checking if he was still sleeping before opening the door.
"Ned."
"How is he?" Ned asked, he looked how she felt - haggard. She waved him in, not
wanting to chance it.
"He's gotten worse. His coughing got better for now. But his fevers worse, he
hasn't been fully lucid in days. He's having nightmares; sometimes he screams
about fire and dragons, other times he sees wolves stepping over roses.
Sometimes he doesn't say any at all, it's just whimpering.
"I don't know what else I can do, Ned. He's dying and I can't fix it." Yue
cried, looking down at her hands in shame. She's helped birthed many children,
helped mothers through birth fever, nursed kids back to health but she couldn't
heal the Starks. She failed Lyanna and now she was failing her son. "He's going
die."
Yue felt a hand briefly rest on her shoulder.
"We've found out how the boys got sick." He said staring at Jon. Jon have a
slight whimper, and she saw instantly cooing and stroking his face. "One of the
stable boys had gone to the brothel in Winter Town, a whore's child was sick
with the pox and he carried it back to the castle unknowingly. The boys always
liked going to the stables to see the horses."
He felt like a failure for not knowing who was sick under his jurisdiction, he
could've sent the maester. Then - then Jon and Robb wouldn't have gotten sick.
"What happened to the child?"
"Dead."
"I need to pray." Yue croaked, the hope being leeched from her body with each
word. "Could you...?"
"I can stay."
"Thank you."
Yue practically bolted from the room, the scent of sickness wafting after her.
She stumbles when her feet touched snow, but she didn't care. She continued
walking deeper into the Godswoods, the heart tree her only true focus. During
her time in Winterfell; she came many times to the heart tree, her visits
nearly thrice a day with Jon's illness raging. She knelt in the melting snow,
pressing her forehead to the weirwood roots.
"Please, save him. He is only a child. You let him suffer enough," Yue cried,
her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes.
The wind was still, she couldn't feel their presence. Usually she could feel
the comfort and heavy weight on her back, much like a hug. But she just felt
chill and empty.
"He lost his father before he could meet him, his mother held him as she was
dying, you keep separating him from those who love him. You are ruining him."
Rage licked through her veins, as she remembered how lonely and miserable Jon
got whenever she was packing. He wanted her to stay but she never did. She
remembers how bright his face lights up when he sees her. How hard he clings
during the first days as if she'll disappear. Lyanna should've been alive,
Ashara should had argued more for him, Ned should've been a better father, she
should've stayed.
She glared at the carved face, "Please, I'm begging you. Whatever your plans
are, stop. Let him live. Let him be free of worries. Please, heal him. I'll do
anything, just let him live."
She waited in the cold, and still the Gods gave no signs of hearing her. Yue
shook her head, saying, "I thought the Gods were merciful to those in need."
She went back inside, her feet cold and numb, and she sat down by Jon's side.
He was still asleep but there wasn't much she could have done had he been
awake. He's dying and unless the Gods are merciful, he will die within the next
few days.
-
"Let me see Jon!" Robb cried struggling against Old Nan.
The old woman was keeping Robb from even getting within ten feet of the door.
All Robb wanted was to see his brother. Why wouldn't they let him? He's not
sick anymore, he's better. Maybe he can help Jon feel better.
"I'm sorry, Robb. But your lady mother said to keep you away. It's not safe for
children to be here. And it's not something you should see." Old Man said with
a shake of her head. No child should watch their brother die, slowly, painfully
in front of them... no parent should either.
Lord Stark has yet to leave the room to take care of his lordly duties. Lady
Stark and Maester Luwin had been taking care of what little there was. News
barely left Jon's sick room, it never changed. The boy was worsening and no one
wanted to let Robb see what Jon had become.
"Come now little lord, I have a few new stories I can tell."
Robb pouted, scrubbing at his face. "Fine."
They walked away, Robb turning his head back with every other step. Despite
this, he hadn't seen his mother coming from the direction of the Great Keep. In
Catelyn's hands, she had a prayer wheel.
No one knew how guilty she felt, how she hadn't gotten enough sleep since the
boys got sick. Robb had gotten better but Jon only worsened. Her Gods had
answered her prayers, and now her husband's bastard was suffering for her
pettiness. She was letting an innocent child die a horrible death all because
she was jealous of a dead woman, a woman she didn't know, a woman who the child
didn't even know.
She knocked quietly on the door, hesitating even after hearing acquiesce. She
entered the room, the scent of death wafting in her face. Both Ned and Yue
looked haggard, deep dark circles under their eyes. The pox marked Jon was
under furs and blankets, his heavy breaths the only true sound in the room.
"Cat..."
"I brought this," Catelyn said, holding up the prayer wheel weakly. "I thought
anything could help at this point."
"Thank you."
The room fell silent again after Catelyn hung the prayer wheel against the wall
closest to Jon. She felt awkward, she had no place here. She quietly excused
herself.
She felt shame faced, quickly heading her way to the Sept. She would beg the
Seven to take it back, take it all back. She would be a better person.
The next day and the day after were much the same: she woke, made sure Robb was
happy, had breakfast, took care of Ned's duties, made another prayer wheel,
left it in Jon's room and ended her day with praying in the Sept and dinner in
her room.
The fourth and what would be know as Jon's final day, started much the same
until Rodrik interrupted Ned. A man had deserted the Night's Watch, he'd been
captured and it was Ned's duty to execute him. Unfortunately only Catelyn and
Maester Luwin were available, for Yue had left only moments earlier to bath and
rest in her rooms. The woman needed the rest badly or else she would get sick
as well.
Maester Luwin checked on Jon and saw that he was no better than the last time
he checked, he said if Jon made it through this night, he'd live.
But it would be a very long night.
The doubtful look on his face was no reassurance.
So she sat with him, the only light coming from the fireplace. Listening to his
ragged little breaths, his coughing, his whimpering as she bent branches into
the proper shape, the figures of the seven were waiting to be laced into the
circle. She looked up from her work, eyes tearing as she stared at Jon.
Jon Snow the babe her husband had brought home before their own son had even
been in Winterfell. She hated looking at him, the boy so like Ned. Twice before
guests had made the mistake of calling Jon her and Ned's son, and Robb his
bastard. It had spurned her to be more aggressive in her prayers, if only the
Seven would grant her this.
And they did.
The pox came first to her son and spread to Jon. And now he was dying while
Robb was brimming with life. Nausea spread through her as she realized what
kind of woman she'd become.
A murderer.
Now she desperately prayed to all seven gods,
"Mother please have mercy. Let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him.
I'll be a mother to him..." Her voice grew soft as coughs wracked Jon's body.
They overshadowed her words but she continued, "I'll beg my husband to give him
a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us."
His coughs subsided for a moment, and they had a moment of peace. Catelyn
relaxed releasing her breath. Yue came back, snow melting in her hair. She had
gone for solace in the Godswoods rather than rest in her room.
"I heard Lord Stark was needed, I came as quick as I could. How is he?"
Catelyn smiled, "His coughing stopped."
Yue gave a weak smile in return, "That - that is good."
All was good for a time, then night fell and his cough returned with a
vengeance. Blood and mucus dirtied his clothing and every handkerchief they
had. Catelyn rocked in the corner, fingers flying as she hurried to finish a
prayer wheel, then another. Yue, Ned and Maester Luwin were near her,
discussing what else they could do.
"I never seen a case this bad. It should have cleared by now, his fever should
have broken. We've done everything." Yue hissed, desperation coloring her
voice.
"Perhaps another maester brought in."
"There's nothing to be done, my lord. I have sent ravens to other maesters and
their suggestions are only things we've tried before. All we can do it hope the
Gods have mercy." Maester Luwin said forlornly.
Yue shook her head, she licked her dry mouth before speaking, "No, there is one
thing we can do."
"I thought you said it was too strong."
"Not the neem. Milk of the Poppy. We end his suffering and pray his next life
won't be as unforgiving."
Ned became furious, his body seemed to grow as his anger made its presence
known. He snarled, "No, I won't let you kill him."
Yue wasn't afraid of him, she got in his face jabbing a finger into his chest.
Her face looked rather hawkish when pinched with anger. The maester seemed to
understand he no longer had any part in this conversation and backed away from
the two.
"I rather not let him suffer anymore. What kind of life will he live if he does
survive? He'll be pox marked, have weak lungs, and tire easy. No child will
play with him and once he's older; his poor health paired his bastard status,
he'll be treated no better than a greyscale victim. What life is that?"
"You know why I can't." Ned gritted out, then softly whispered while he glanced
at Cat. "He's all I have left of her."
Very gently but no less angry, she rested her hands on his shoulders, tightly
gripping him as she looked him in the eye. "She lives on in your memories, just
as he will. But right now he's dying and if he hasn't pulled through now, I
doubt he will. All we are doing is torturing him."
Ned looked at his nephew, saw how delirious he was. He remembered then
screaming, the coughing, the crying. He saw how the pox marred Jon's face and
how pus seeped from many of the boils. Robb never looked like that while sick,
not even at his worst. Finally he nodded.
"It'll be liked going to sleep." Yue murmured, she went Maester Luwin's side
and asked him to bring more Milk of the Poppy.
Jon's small bed barely had enough room for both of them to sit on, so she took
him into her arms. Jon shook in her arms, breath stuttering whole he weakly
gripped her dress.
"Ma?"
Yue blinked away tears, she looked at him but his eyes were still unaware. It
was a fluke. Maester Luwin had returned with two vials of Poppy Milk, more than
enough to make Jon sleep... forever.
"Sweetling, I need to open your mouth."
Jon groaned, his head falling away to the wayside. Yue took his jaw in one
hand, opening his mouth and with the other took the first vial of Poppy. Gently
she tipped his head, Ned helped by massaging Jon's throat as she tipped the
vial into his mouth. One emptied, then the next and Jon was relaxing in Yue's
arms, dazed and listening to her heartbeat.
Ned knelt on the ground, taking one of Jon's small hands, his own large hand
enveloping it. Catelyn watched the scene with barely concealed horror, it was
all her fault. The Seven knew she couldn't keep her promise, they would not
undo it. The child would die tonight.
"I'm sorry, Jon. I wasn't the best father to you. But I will always love you
and will Yue. If Amira and Uncle Benjen were here they would tell you too..."
After a moment of hesitation and a glance at the still rocking Cat, he
continued. "Your mother loves you so much, and she won't be happy at me for
letting you see her again so soon but she will be happy with you. I promise."
Jon's head started to droop, his eyes struggled to stay open, he felt so want
and tired. It wouldn't hurt to go to sleep now. He could sleep and when he woke
up he'd feel better. His breaths grew slower and shallower. His skin grew cold
and clammy to the touch but Yue never let go, not until his heart had long
since stopped beating.
***** Interlude: Jon *****
Chapter Notes
     I don't think I captured Jon's voice in this. I might come back to
     this later on. :/ It's a bit of a confusion, it lacks chronology and
     it can unreliable, it got a little dialogue heavy towards the end,
     and writing children is hard but I'm still ridiculously excited. The
     reason I started writing this fic is coming up soon!! Any theories/
     headcanons/magic featured here are my own personal headcanons/
     theories based on what i've read or just for story's sake. Though
     I've been know to confuse things so ehhh...
     Warning there will be a multiple occasions of infant death since this
     is the reincarnation chapter, some are are non graphic/allusions.
     Unfortunately GoT is not the nicest world and there will be instances
     of infant/child murder, some that are kinda graphic. If you wish to
     skip it, skip these ones which are the most graphic Astapor: A Slave
     Mother and The Gift: The Many Mothers and possibly Dreadfort:
     Forbidden Family.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
He didn't remember much at all before. He did but not in the same sense one
would recall. Each life he remembers because they are there practically
catalogued like books, but he likes the first life the best. In this strange
space where he grows and waits for his next body to grow within a womb and for
life to greet him, he learns.
It's beautiful in a way, while it was for the most empty this place gave him
what he needed. Clothes, books, paper, tools, weapons. It gave him the best
teachers as well though from what little he gleamed, they were merely shades of
their true selves that didn't really interact with him aside from teaching him.
...but it was lonely. There was never anyone else here. Not truly. He was
allowed to look at his memories, or at least he thought so. No one came to stop
him nor was he ever unable to see them.
The first life was the best and worst.
The longest life he had so far.
Depressing if he thought on it.
Jaehaerys Targaryen.
Jon Snow.
He was not yet three when he died.
But he died loved.
He never got to know his father aside from the history books, though he
suspects they've brought him here under disguise at one point. For when he
thinks of his father, he remembers a man's sad eyes and small smile.
His mother, Lyanna Stark, she holds part of his heart. She loved talking to
him. And those memories of the womb shouldn't be possible, shouldn't be
remembered but they were. Some nights he would go to sleep hearing her talk
about Winterfell, about his father, about her brothers, of how much she loved
him.
For what little time they had together after his birth, she still sick with
birth fever never stopped holding him until they heard sounds of danger coming
from outside the sandstone tower.
The next women loved him as fiercely as his mother but they were separated by
his uncle and by death. Amira was loving, in the few days she had him she made
he knew he was loved. She would talk softly about his mother and the silly
things they'd done to the knight guarding them. She made his most treasured
possessions. A blanket with a white direwolf and blue roses embroidered on it,
the stuff dragon he'd slept with and the carved obsidian wolf token he still
wore around his neck even today.
Wylla his nurse maid...while he would say she cared, she never let herself get
attached. She made sure he was healthy, clean and well cared but she never gave
affection. There were no lullabies, no cuddling or loving kisses. He hadn't
felt much of a loss when she left Winterfell and his care went to two young
maids that kept rather efficient and cold towards him.
He had another caretaker, Dinah took care of him for a few months until she
died in accident. She played with him the most and gave him sweet honey. He
liked her bees the best, they made funny noises. Her husband Mikken let him and
Robb watch him fix weapons. He even made them little wooden swords so they
could play fight.
But after her death, he had to rely on his uncle for affection and that was
hard. Lady Stark had no love for Jon, she did not like that he played with her
boy or that he shared her husband's love. Being near her felt suffocating,
though he didn't understand that at the time. All he knew was he needed to get
away. So much of his father's affection was mild compared to what he gave Robb.
But Jon could tell he was loved from the way it shone through his uncle's eyes.
Another woman who loved him was Yue. With her it was different. Her love hadn't
come easy, it started from loyalty to women she spent a year shut away in a
tower. She didn't visit often at first but by his second year, her visits
became more frequent just after Wylla left.
While he wouldn't call her soft, he would not say she was harsh either. Yue
seemed to understand him the most, many of her interactions with him were
quiet. All he really want was to be held, whether is was in her arms or just
holding her hand. He wanted to show someone what he could do, he wanted to show
his home and all his favorite places. It was something he couldn't do without
her.
Sad eyed sweetling is what she called him. Few times when she had been deep in
her cups, Yue would tease him on how such a solem eyed babe he was. Already
done with the world, she said.
And then she paled and kept apologizing, bring him close for a cuddle.
"You are loved, Jon Snow. Never doubt that. Those who do, they know nothing."
Though wine tainted her breath, he did not doubt her sincerity.
She was there when he got sick, for two weeks he was sick. And she arrived on
the fourth day, shooing the maester away. She cared not of her own health, she
stayed at his side and she only left his side to pray in the Godswoods. Cool
rags, warm broths, foul medicine and careful petting made up much of his day,
he could hear his father's voice during the nights, Yue's tales during the day
and Robb's frustrated cries from outside the door. What little sleep he does
get is devoured by dreams of fire breathing dragons, cold blades coated with
warm blood, howling wolves and blue roses.
When Lady Stark joined them in his last days with her prayer wheels, he hadn't
understood that his time was ending. He remembered while Yue was gone, Lady
Stark spoke her prayer aloud.
"Mother please have mercy. Let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him.
I'll be a mother to him..." Her voice grew soft as coughs wracked Jon's body.
It blocked out the rest of her promise, but it hadn't matter. The same night he
passed into this strange haven.
He died sick and with Yue holding him, his uncle reminding him of all the love
he had and would always have. It was her heart beat, the soft croon of his
uncle's voice and the warmth of her arms that lulled him to sleep where death
embraced him.
When he awoke there had been a woman with him. Not his mother, for her skin was
sun kissed and her eyes while dark as obsidian were very warm.
"You are safe, sweetling. The Gods are not done with you yet. I wanted to give
you two gifts before I leave you. The first is this," She said, waving her hand
and on the wall - was it a wall? There didn't seem to be one and yet - appeared
a portrait. It was his family all of it - he would learn who they truly were in
the times to come - from his father, his uncle and Robb to Yue, Dinah, Mikken
and Amira to familiar yet strange people. The woman next to him was also there.
"I hope I was not presumptuous to include myself and my children there too. You
will learn the truth here, but do not blame Ned Stark for not telling you. It
was for your protection, just as Ashara lies for his."
Almost as if she weren't conscious of it, her hand raised and touched the
figure of the pale haired boy. She traced his features with a mother's love. He
wanted to ask who it was but somehow knew it wasn't time yet.
"Other one?" He tried hard not to come off as a spoilt child.
She didn't seem to mind, she smiled and it was like the sun's warmth. "Come."
She led Jon away from the portrait past many things including a fur covered
bed, a collection of toys and books, a comfortable looking pile of pillows and
led him to where the room touched nature. It was the red and white of the heart
tree the greeted him first, then the pond near it.
"When you wish to see of the world outside, come here. When you wish to see
your own lives, gather water and bring it back there. There on the desk you
will find the name of every being you were, write it down on paper and put the
paper in the water. It will melt and be ready for you to see through. You will
see and you will learn the truth."
-
The first time he been reborn it had only been a month after his death. This
time he was son of Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully. Years later he would laugh, Lady
Stark wouldn't have been rid of him just yet if he had lived longer than a day.
After that he went through cycles of waiting then living short lives. Some
human, some as an animal, no matter the gender he died scared most times. He
was reborn so often things blurred even with his memory well helping him.
The Eeryie: Lysa Arryn
Her first son of their marriage, was a hatching as frail and weakly as her. A
tuff of red hair on his otherwise bald head, Tulley blue eyes, and Jon's
hawkish nose. He had noodly arms that couldn't stop shaking no matter how many
blankets she gave, his breathing more like a bird's screeching.
Her earlier experience with moon tea had warped her womb, she could not carry
properly without plenty of rest. At least that was what the maester said but
Lysa knew otherwise. Her womb was death touched, she lost three other babes
before this one and Jon only knew of one of those instances. She let hope take
her when she realized she close to the end. Soren would be the first to be
carried to full term. Then he came a month early but unlike other babes born
early, his lungs had been damaged, too damaged.
Little Soren Arryn, swathed in robin's egg blue, died struggling to breathe and
with the feel of his mother's tears on his face.
-
When he returned, he couldn't stop crying. It wasn't fair! He just wanted his
father! Why couldn't he go back to Winterfell to his father and Robb?
He ran to the pond and asked to see Robb right then.
"Can Jon hear me?" Robb said, kneeling at the base of the heart tree. He copied
his father's clasped hands as he looked the the carved face. "Really hears me
if I talkeded?"
"Perhaps, we do not know what happens after. Maybe he's listening now. Just
close your eyes and listen to the woods, the wind carries it's words."
Robb did, his little brow scrunching up in concentration as he shouted hello
inside his mind over and over again until he paused to hear a response.
"...Robb...Robb...Robb...Home..."
Robb's eyes snapped open and he frantically looked around. He heard Jon! He
did! He did!
He smiled at his father who looked amused by Robb's antics. Jon looked on a
little sad that his message didn't fully reach him nor did it even give his
father any attention.
-
Beyond the Wall: A Castor wife
Valda tried to keep her screams from leaving her mouth. She did not want him to
know she was birthing her baby. Let him think she struggles. Deep in her bones
she knew, this bairn was a boy. Her boy, he would not take it as he had her
others. Little Gilly looked fearful as she stared at her sister-mother, she
took a chance to look outside the birthing hut. No one was out here. Only Roost
was with them making sure Valda didn't bleed herself to death.
"It is time."
Gilly offered her arm to her mother while Roost stuffed cloth into Valda's
mouth. The pain in her arm almost made Gilly wail, as it was tears sprung in
her eyes. She put her fist in her mouth to stifle her own cries.
Valda's sobs were muffled as pushed. The pain was to great, her lad was too big
he would rip her in two. She shook her head and kept thinking, I can't do it. I
can't.
"His head is almost out. Now push!"
Even through the cloth, Valda's scream could be heard within Castor's main hut.
Gilly was now crying in earnest, blood dripping from her arm. The babe cried
just as much as Gilly, though much louder.
"It's a boy."
The hut got colder, an inexplicable colder as they all fell silent.
"Daybreak will come soon. Castor can't take him tonight. You'll have him for
one day at least."
"No. He won't take him. Not while I still live."
"Val? Mama?" Gilly said fear etching her face. Was she going to be left alone?
Valda didn't look at Gilly. She looked at her son, "I won't give up another
son. I will protect Balik and I'll leave soon for another clan."
"Balik?"
"Your brother, Gilly."
"You're still too weak to travel." Roost said, she didn't blame Valda for
wanting to leave. If she stayed, it would be her third son Castor would give
up. And that was three sons too many.
"I'll take my chances. Take care of Gilly for me, Roost."
"You don't need to ask. She is family."
Only an hour before daybreak, Valda limped out into the woods with Balik
strapped to her under her furs. She walked through the day, getting as far as
she could from Castor. There should be another clan at least a days walk away
and she would be ready for anything she had her spear, her trap caught them a
rabbit and she found dry wood in case a wright came. She wasn't sure what she
would do against a white Walker.
In the end it didn't matter, a sudden snow flurry took her by surprise. Valda
and Balik died feeling warm in their winter blanket.
-
One day Jon finally decides to learn the truth. Its been five years since his
death - the first one - and as far as he's concerned the most important one. He
feels like he's lived enough lives to deserve the truth.
He throws the pensive bowl at the wall after. He cries and uses a knife, he
doesn't where it came from nor does he really care right now. Jon attacks the
painting with fury. The only faces untouched are those of Robb, Dinah, Mikken
and his brother and sister as he now knows the two strange kids as. Even the
woman, Elia who greeted him lied, why didn't she just tell him?
He was lied to for his whole life.
"You will learn the truth here, but do not blame Ned Stark for not telling you.
It was for your protection, just as Ashara lies for his."
He threw books around, tearing pages out by the handful. Toys knocked over and
even Shel his dragon was ripped.
"Promise me. Promise me, Ned."
He tugged at his chain, throwing it towards the pond but not landing in it.
"I see no babes, only dragonspawn."
Jon falls to the floor, kneeling but trying to curl in on himself. He pulled at
his hair as all these words circled his mind.
"That wickedness, its his bastard blood."
"I never asked for it to be this way! I never asked to be born!" Jon cries,
voice cracking as he replies to voices that aren't there. His throat's sore but
he's still screaming, still crying.
"He is my blood."
He knows the truth now.
"Send him away! He is just a bastard. He is not Robb, he is not your trueborn
son."
He wished he didn't.
"You are loved, Jon Snow. Never doubt that. Those who do, they know nothing."
He stops. 
He looks up at the destruction he made. Voice weak he looks right at the torn
portrait and whispered, "It's not my fault."
Astapor: A Slave Mother
In Astapor, the slave mothers know they will lose at least one child in their
lifetime. Most pray that it will be to sickness or accident. But very little of
those prayers come true.
The way most mothers lose their children to the Unsullied, whether it's by
joining them or through the right of passage.
On this day in Astapor, the sun was shining and the new mother, Nesila was
smiling at her sweet girl, Tuya. Her master had been good and was letting
Nesila bring her along. They would be sold together, he promised. The other
women tutted at her naivety. They heard whispers of who would visit today.
Already mothers pressed kisses to the babies, the ones who've lost multiples
cried silently. New mothers look fearful, clutching their babies to their
chest. Only Nesila was unafraid, her master promised and she had been a good
slave. He would not allow anything to happen.
She was wrong.
That day there was not a cloud in the sky, the sun burned bright and the wind
was cool. Tuya giggled, kicking her feet when her mother tickled them. That day
the yet to be blood stalked into through the city streets, a silver mark
clutched in hand. These boys knew no fear, they did not recognize the fear the
women in front of them had. Very efficiently they went to the mothers, most
lifted the babies carelessly by their arm or leg.
Nesila could only scream as her girl was ripped from her arms. Fear froze her
as she looked at the boy who shook Tuya violently to stop her wailing. She did
nothing as the boy took his knife, twirled it once before stabbing Tuya in the
belly and chest multiple times. He didn't stop shaking her as his did, blood
dripped to the floor and onto Nesila.
Tuya still hadn't stopped her crying, it had gotten worse with other babes
joining her wails. The boy looked frustrated for a second before a blank look
took over. The next time his blade hit caused silence to fall.
There was a loud crack as it fell to the ground. Sweet doe eyed Tuya look up at
her mother, face contorted in pain and bleeding sluggishly from her neck stump.
Nesila wanted to reach for her sweet girl, but every time she tried she
couldn't. Her eyes were clouded with tears and all she heard were wails. She
did not know if they came from her mouth or not.
"Bloody thirsty that one." Her master laughed, as he held his hand out for the
silver mark.
-
The day after his breakdown he woke up and everything was back to normal,
everything was as if it never broke. He stopped to look at the world and see if
Robb or Uncle were there so he could try apologizing as directly as he could.
Instead he found Fath- Uncle with a new babe and Robb playing a new boy. Lip
trembling he went to the weirwood tree and apologized to those he lost and
disgraced in his fit of anger. Jon doesn't expect any answer but the caress of
the wind with the scent of sunshine and roses is a comfort. Especially now that
he's lost two more of those he loved.
-
Dragonstone: Lark
Every day Shireen Baratheon would leave the safety of the castle to play in
Aegon's Garden. She liked it there much to both her parents displeasure, for
Shireen could be often found where the garden's heart tree was. The sickly tree
with the carved face reminded her of her own, from the books in the library she
discovered that one of the Targaryens had carved it so they could continue to
practice the old ways after only a Sept was built on Dragonstone. Every time
she was caught playing there, her mother would make do more lessons with her
Septa.
"We are in the South. We are Baratheons, not Starks! Ours is the faith of the
seven. You should pray to the Mother for giving you mercy, without her you
would not live." Her mother would spit at Shireen.
Her father on the other hand would sigh, looking so much older than he was. He
would give her a stern order not to go back without an escort.
But Shireen still went.
She was lonely and scared. Her mother thought she was weak and a shameful
reminder of her failures. Her father was busy as Master of Ships. Dragonstone
was no place for children with its dreary stone and dreadful carvings of
dragons and other beasts. And the few children that were around would either
avoid her or stare for the same reason - her greyscale.
In Aegon's Garden there was always her Lark. The bird was strange though. It
always found Shireen when she was sad or lost. She would bring Shireen things,
mostly shiny sea glass or obsidian or bits of fabric. Lark had been there for
as long as Shireen could remember. She - well Shireen assumed it was a she -
would sing and twitter as if she could really answer all of Shireen's
questions. Lark would do tricks for bits of Shireen's snacks, she would do it
even if Shireen had none.
One name day she asked Ser Davos for a large cage so Shireen could have her in
her room. Together they went to the gardens, Shireen whistled the three note
tune that usually brought Lark to her but she did not come.
"Lark! Lark!" Shireen called, cupping her hands to project her voice. She
whistled once more, "Lark!"
But Lark never came and Shireen lost another friend.
-
He missed some things about being an animal. It was easier to forget he was
human when he had a body with wings, scales or four paws. He didn't have to
think of still healing betrayals or of how little Robb came to the heart tree.
He only thought of survival and of little Shireen.
Only after he learns of Warging does he realize why they make those lives the
shortest when he was younger. He can not forget he was human.
But he misses the freedom.
-
Dreadfort: Forbidden Family
If one lived in the Dreadfort, one was not allowed much joy. Only the foolish
did things in secret and kept quiet or most would beg Lord Bolton for their
wish. Olly Harcourt and his new wife, Myriam were ones foolish enough to think
they could hide it forever. Not with her belly quickening and Lady Bolton's
loose tongue.
Myriam had only just given birth an hour ago when soldiers burst into their
home. Her unnamed bairn was ripped from her arms by Lord Bolton himself in the
same breath a knife was thrust into her husband's skull.
"Did you really think you could keep it a secret?"
Myriam was so weak, she couldn't rise to do anything. Her Olly tried to talk
but his words were stuttered and the men still held him.
"Please, Lord Bolton."
Roose Bolton held the babe from her feet, staring at her genitals with a sneer.
"Useless. Not even a boy."
And with that the babe was thrown hard at the wall, her little head shattering
before she could even scream.
-
Jon has died in many ways. He's died from poison, from assassination, from
accidents. His deaths can be accredited to friends and family, strangers and
enemies alike. He was sure he experienced worse variations of those but he
tried to avoid looking at those. Most of all Jon hated when his deaths
reflected the death of his family. Jon has been strangled, stabbed, thrown
against a wall, died of fever, died in the cold, died struggling to breathe.
And there was only one left death left. One he feared the most.
Death in the flames.
-
The Neck: Lady Reed
"Hello again, Jon Snow." Howland Reed said looking down at Yara's new son.
A set of twins, one boy and one girl, Yara seemed to understand that this boy
was not for her. The Gods had granted her plea for a child all her own and they
gave her her daughter as well as made her vessel for the boy. He needs rest is
all the Gods would tell her in her dreams. She was just a vessel, Yara felt
nothing as Howland left her hut with the boy. She wished them well.
The babe never cried as they walked back to the Greywater Watch. Howland looked
at Jon, this birth he was born fair haired and blue eyed, nothing like a Stark
and he knew the Gods had been purposeful in that sense. This birth would be one
where Jon was allowed to himself again without the Stark look haunting him and
free the harsh stares he'd known in Winterfell.
Here Meera would protect him, Jojen would have a friend and Jon Snow could live
without fear of dying looming over his head. Here he would learn one last gift.
But that's a matter for another day, today Jon would live.
And live he did.
Meera delighted over having a new brother even when Jojen said it was only
temporary. In fact she smacked his head lightly at that comment, "Be nice, he's
ours for now." She looked expectantly at her father, "Could I show him to
Mother?"
"Of course, she's waiting."
Jyana Reed smiled at the boy in her arms. She felt at peace looking at this
fair haired boy. This one is mine, for however long she has him he would be.
The Gods didn't need him yet.
Yes she loved her children but sometimes it felt like they weren't for her.
Meera was never at her side, instead she had wander around either with her
father or aimlessly while she waited. She hadn't know who or what she'd been
waiting for until her mother conceived Jojen. Then she followed her until Jojen
was born and became his primary caregiver.
And Jojen, sweet excitable Jojen didn't understand restraint until his first
vision. It subdued him a little made him a touch more serious. She was fine
with having a son with greensight but she wasn't prepared to watch him suffer
with violent shakes. Each time she begged Howland to give him milk of the poppy
but he refused insisting her son was for the Gods this life time.
But Jon would be her child, he would learn from her side and not Howland's.
Jyana used her knife to to draw pictures in the dirt as she told her stories.
He learned to swim before he walked, of the stars long before his letters. Jon
never wandered away from Jyana's side, most times he could be found sleeping
while she carried him around as she did her duties unless his siblings took him
away much to their mother's disapproval.
She never liked how others looked at him. They knew he was different, he was a
Reed yet not. He wasn't a traditional cronnagmen, fair haired thin and tall
even at two. The way he talked about the Gods made people look twice and
question him for answers. She tried to make sure Meera and Jojen kept Jon away
from the adults and the fanatics, instead sticking to only children.
Jon's first words were Mama, his tongue curling easily around the true tongue
as easy as it did around the common. She wanted to teach him the songs of the
earth in the true tongue. Jyana brought out the harp Howland got for her when
they first married and Jon eagerly reached for it. Amused, she let him pluck
the strings as she sang a tune.
His small hands knew how to move, Jon got absorbed in the song, he didn't
notice that she stopped singing. By the time he finished and looked up his
mother was in tears. Jon was scared, he didn't want to play anymore, but she
assured him he did nothing wrong. It was just a sad song. He resolved to only
play happy songs after that.
His first steps toward Meera, and she took that as permission to drag him along
as she explored every single nook of the land. She showed him how to avoid the
bright parts of the marsh, the ground was unstable where it was brighter. She
showed him how the moss would show him the way home. Meera showed him showed
him to make his own miniature spear, dig crayfish and chase frogs with the
other kids.
Jojen shows him the plants that could kill him and the plants that could save
him. He shows him how to watch people and see their secrets. He talks about his
dreams to Jon, half wondering if it'll jog something from his memories but
Father said he never remembered his human life in a new human body, only in
animals to keep him tethered.
While Howland did spend time with Jon, Jyana - with some guilt - limited it as
much as possible. She knew Howland would teach Jon how to leave one day and she
wasn't ready for that yet.
It's three days before his third name day does Jyana dress him in the best
clothes from the softest furs and lizard lion leathers to the deepest green
tunic and pants. Her smile is watery as she brushes his long hair, leaving it
loose save a pair of thin braids framing his face.
"Mama?"
"It's time, dearheart. It's time for you to go home."
Jon's eyes widened, tears sprung up as he turned to bury himself in her
embrace. He didn't want to leave. Why couldn't he stay? He was happy, his
mother was happy. Why couldn't he? Was she tired of him and only wanted her
real kids?
Jyana kissed the boy's head before pulling him away. She lifted his chin, Jon
was forced to look at her tearful green eyes. "Do not think that I tired of
you. I love you as much as I love your brother and sister. I wish I could keep
you but I know I can't. You are meant for something greater. Gods be merciful.
"Jon, when I look at you, pride is not the word I'm looking for. Hope. Hope is
what I see, you will do something amazing that will change Westeros for the
better. But you can't do it if you are here. I promise you, you will see us
again one day."
Her hand was warm as she led him up to the weirwood tree. He has no fear of the
face, it's a familiar to him as his kin's. Jon used to question how a tree
could live and grow when they were a floating fort constantly moving. Father
told him of the Gods using giants to tear the fort and the surrounding land up
from the earth after two kingdoms disputed over it and placed it in a marsh to
protect its people. They made it so long as the weirwood lived, the ground
below the fort and the outer laying village would be strong and unbreakable
against the water.
He could feel it's power the closer they got. Only five feet away from the tree
stood his father. His back was still turned from them but their foot steps had
echoed out, informing him of their arrival.
Before Jon could get any closer, he was tackled by both Meera and Jojen into
fierce hug. After letting go, Jojen tried to be stoic but Jon knew he was
scared. Meera was crying even if she wasn't making a noise.
"Be safe, promise me." Meera said before running off.
"We'll see you again. I see it happening." Jojen said before he chased after
his sister, knowing she was taking it harder than she would admit.
Mother crouched to face him, she cupped his face and pecked his forehead.
"Be brave." She whispered before she too left.
His father finally faced him and Jon is surprised to see his happy father sad
and serious. The man in front of him seemed too old today, weighed by knowledge
he hadn't been prepared for but still held it. Then again Jon is leaving and he
would be the cause of it.
Very carefully Howland talks, he shows Jon to cut the weirwood for its red sap.
The deep red coats his fingers as learns the symbol he has to draw to leave.
It's a very simple symbol, each finger represented a tree branch so he had to
keep his fingers spread for a time before bringing them together to form a beak
like gesture. Then using his joined fingers he was to draw the trunk before
spreading his fingers again for a short moment as he thought the word home in
the old tongue.
A white glow enveloped him as he sunk into the tree's trunk, Jon could hear his
father's voice saying "Just one more."
One more what? Jon thought as he slipped into his other home still dressed in
the clothes Mother Jyana gave him but looking in the pond showed him his Stark
face.
-
Life with the Reeds has reminded him not all his incarnations have suffered.
The portrait changes as he finally admit he has gained more than he has lost.
The blue haired Griff, shy Daenerys, inquisitive Shireen, and the whole Reed
family join it's original occupants.
After being with the Reeds, the time between lives got longer as he caught up
on his education and training in his older body. Still, most of his free time
is devoted to remembering the good things. He spends time swimming in the pools
in Dorne, learning to hunt using four paws instead of hands, he lays in the
flowers in Highgarden. He chases after older siblings over the wall and fusses
over his nest in the woods never the Riverlands. He learns that his flying is
different than what the Eeryie calls flying. He learns what it's like to have a
twin and what it means to be a whole person after that.
Time doesn't move the same for him anymore he realizes as he takes account of
how many lives he's lived. Even in the short time he has outside this place,
he's lived more than he ever thought he would.
The thought frightens and excites him.
-
Pentos: The Dragon and The Griffin
"Daenerys!" The girl in question jumped, looking fearfully back at her brother.
"Get away from that filthy beast."
She looked sadly at the white cat she'd been playing with. It had appeared in
Illyrio's home one morning and it liked being near her. She often used her silk
scarves to tease Crest and he enjoyed the game as much as her if not more so
when she laughed. She had assumed - wrongfully it seemed - that Viserys had
been in a good mood and gotten him for her or at the very least allowed Illyrio
to get it for her.
She stepped away from Crest, and tried to shoo it away. Viserys would not allow
her to keep it now. He never lets her keep anything that makes her happy. The
cat made big eyes and tried stepping towards her. Mournfully and hoping her
eyes conveyed her apologies, Daenerys bent down grabbing a stone and pitched it
at the cat.
Daenerys withered in on herself when it hit his leg and he let out a pained
yowl. If animals could emote, she was sure the cat was giving her a sad look as
she turned to face her brother.
The cat understood he was not welcome anymore and went off to find his next
home. Little did the last children of Aerys known, the white cat Daenerys had
called Crest would soon find another Targaryen.
On the docks of Pentos there ship 'Shy Maid' is docking for supplies. Left to
boredom, a young man watches his father's crew depart from the ship with strict
order not to leave the ship unless it's with Duck or Lemore. Duck was still
bedridden from his last injury and Lemore was tending to him, which meant Young
Griff couldn't leave the ship or even practice his sword play. He knew it was
because his blue hair was fading and starting to show white blonde.
It still didn't mean he thought it fair. If he was old enough to learn how to
use a sword then surely he was old enough to walk around the docks without a
chaperone. Griff continued to stare out at the docks, when he spotted something
very interesting.
If something came to him, he wasn't breaking any rules was he.
Technically.
Or at least that's what he'd agrue if anyone came back early.
He stood on the gangplank, technically still on the ship, left over fish from
his lunch being waved as he made a clicking noise. His current prey was a white
cat, the poor thing had been struck at one point that day looking at the blood
matting it's hind leg. The cat seemed to be contemplating whether it was the
smart thing to do.
Finally the cat strut over to him as if it were royalty, Griff laughed letting
the proud thing eat. This would sate his boredom for a while. The thing gave
him the side eye before continuing to eat.
Griff raised a hand to which had the cat bristling. Very slowly, with eyes
firmly on the cat he lowered his hand onto it. The cat - he really need to
think of a name for it even if it was only a temporary one - stayed still after
the first moment but quickly nuzzled Griff's hand.
"Well, now...Opal? Oh no, then how about Salt? Snow? Alright, alright no Snow."
Griff said quickly after the cat nearly scratched him. Griff kept petting him
though. "Aspen? You like Aspen then. Well come on. I think I can clean up that
blood in my cabin."
Lazy cat didn't want to move from the sun warmed spot and Griff rolled his
eyes. Very gently he picked up Aspen, carrying him quickly into his quarters
before Lemore came out and yelled at him.
The cat was fine to roll in Griff's sheets, the expression on its face was one
Griff would call smug. Aspen didn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest as he
moved, Griff likely over exaggerated how hurt Aspen was. Shaking his head,
Griff filled a bowl with water and found scraps of cloth to clean with.
"Come on now, can't have you all bloody while we play can we?"
Later when Old Griff and the crew returned, Griff would be in the same spot as
if he never moved but his eyes danced with amusement. A grin spread over his
face when asked if he'd stayed on the ship the whole time. The grin only grew
when he heard his father start sneezing, muttering about blasted cats sneaking
about and crawling all over ships like vermin. Griff made sure no one was
watching before giving Aspen one final wave.
-
He's gotten better at finding a heart tree and fading into the other before
death catches him. But he hasn't figured out if he can direct where he goes in
the next life. If he could he would go back to - no he can't allow himself to
think of them now.
Perhaps he would go back to Shireen or Daenerys.
Or perhaps he would fly again.
Or not.
The Gods are the only ones to direct him so far.
-
The Gift: The Many Mothers
In the Gift long before the wildling raids increased there used to be groups of
nomads, particularly one primarily made up of women and children. Only a
handful of the boys grown up in the group stay, most leave for towns for better
lives or joined the Night's Watch. The people of the Gift had become accustomed
to the large group traveling the lands and coming through the village.
Most welcomed the women in the early Spring when the planting needed to be
started and again just before winter when harvesting began. The women would ask
for no coin but part of the harvest as payment and land to set up temporary
camp. The children of the village for used to having friends that constantly
traveled, friends that some would only see one or twice a year for a few weeks.
Then there were the few who despaired the woman: unnatural, mannish, loose,
immoral. Those were only a handful of descriptors they used against them. The
women were considered no better than wildlings, taking by seduction rather than
force, uncaring so long as they left satisfied and with a heavy womb. In truth
only a handful ever purposely got with child, most only sought release and were
careful with their herbs.
A lot of their time was consumed by raising the children under their care. Only
half of the children with them were birthed by the women themselves, a quarter
were third and fourth daughters of family often considered useless and the
final quarter was made up of orphan children that villages would not take. The
Many Mothers they called them for a child could call 'Mother!' and received at
least five responses.
The group was for the most part self sufficient. Some could say it was better
to have a Mother in your household than it was to have a father. Not only could
the Mothers do typical womanly duties such as cooking and mending clothes, they
could hunt and fight as good as any man. While the children weren't the most
literate, they were more likely to survive than any other child with the vast
array of skills they learned.
Rumors spread often after each visit, some more ludicrous than others. It was
said a Mother could lead you better in the dark with no light during your
travels than a local could with light and a map. Other would claim they were
sent by the Gods themselves to help those abandoned by their kin.
Why else would they take on such a large brood?
How else would they gain vast knowledge on things that not even the maesters
knew?
Why else was the harvest always more abundant or the land more fertile after
they visited?
That same logic was used it to explain how the five main matriarchs were
unearthly beautiful in different ways despite whispers of their true ages. Only
a handful of whispers was about their promiscuity, on cold nights men would
warm themselves with tales of their hot cunts, supple flesh and beseeching
eyes.
Their reputation often made them sought out, more sought out than the village
itself. Many wanted these mythical women to bless them, they wanted the same
fortune as those in the Gift. This caused distress to the villagers of the
Gift, while they would not fault them for seeking them out, the visitors often
caused destruction in their wake.
While food stores were full the coffers weren't, visitors often hunted and
camped on the land instead of buying food or staying in the local inn. The land
under their feet was slowly being destroyed, while the villagers struggled to
pay taxes. They could not leave to sell their wares for the next village or
town was sometimes weeks away and no man dared go near Castle Black for fear of
being confused for a recruit or worse a provisions donator.
After years of this, one angered man decided he had enough, the next time those
harlots came to his village he made sure they were taken care of...
permanently.
But that was unknown to the Mothers as they made their way through the Gift,
this year they separated into smaller groups for they had grown rather large
and the oldest children would be leaving to make their way after this harvest.
The group belonging to Matriach Dagma was making its way to their favored
village.
For Dagma, this year was a special year. Her only blood daughter had returned
to them and with her, she brought Dagma a grandson, a chubby cheeked boy of
eighteen months. While her daughter despaired being back here, in truth she had
no choice. The man she lured had been some highborn heir and his father wanted
nothing to ruin his house alliance, especially not some wild woman and her
bastard.
"Dag!" A man cried immediately rushing to greet her. Slowly but sure the other
villagers came to greet them. "It's been too long, my friend."
"We saw each other last harvest, Donnell." Dagma said with a laugh but none
could deny the fondness in her eyes. "Though this year the harvest on my joy
began early. Leena returned and she brought with her, her son Boshane."
Donnell gaped and looked for Leena. Last he saw his daughter was many years
ago, she had left after her fifteenth name day. To hear that she was back
calmed many of his worries. He spotted Leena separate from the group, scowling
at a few people but no boy near her.
"And the boy?"
"Bo? He's with the others. The boy in blue." She said easily spotting him. She
frowned a little. "She doesn't want to be here. I think she will leave after
the harvest...alone."
"Oh, will you take him or...?"
"I think it's time for me to settle in one place... if you'll still have me."
Donnell laced their fingers together, offering her a smile. "Always."
The harvest was quick work with so many hands, not even the kids running
through the fields and tossing husks and stalks at each other deterred them.
Donnell laughed as Bo led himself a little army of tots against one of his
older cousins. The boy was not shy, he quickly made his way to the top of the
pack of children. Loud and brash most of the times but he occasionally like the
silence. When he needed it, he liked to be near the bees Donnell kept by his
hut and was often found there making buzzing noises back at them.
Donnell often wondered who the boy's father was and if the boy took after him
more, he was nothing like his mother. Leena never liked the constant travel and
Donnell could not care for her alone when she was so used to constant attention
from the Mothers, even now she was planning on leaving soon. Leena encouraged
her son to call his grandparents 'Mama' and 'Papa', she wanted him to forget
her. She stopped being affectionate, instead of sleeping with her child, her
nights were spent flirting with men of the village. She planned on never
returning to the Gift but that didn't mean she couldn't have her fun.
On the last day of the harvest, the village threw a party. They provided food
while the Mothers did the entertainment. The older Mothers entertained the
children with stories and dances. Fee shows off her carving skills and makes
little figurines for the kids. Kars loved playing little tricks and making
magic. Farah made masks for the kids, laughing at the games they play with them
on.
The younger more flirtatious Mothers donned their best clothes, they twisted
their bodies in elaborate tricks and dances. More than a few men fell for their
charms. As the night lengthen, the amount of villagers in the nomad encampment
dwindled to very few. The children of the village were the first sent home and
the drunkards were the last.
In the dead of night there was one soul awake and sober as he sneered at the
sight of roughly shaped huts ruining the village. The embers of the fires were
still glowing red even under the new wood, but not a soul aside from him was
awake to see the torch in his hand relight those fires. He made them too large,
watching the fire crackle and pop. Small sparks started to make their way to
the huts and dry foliage on the ground but it wasn't going fast enough.
Quietly he crept closer to the huts and began to light those as well. The
occupants inside slept soundly either tired from work or sluggish from drink.
He felt no guilt when his torch illuminated the faces of young children, they
were bastards deserving of death.
The screaming began as he was half way back to the village. He turned around,
pretending to be one of the first out to hear it. It was horrifying beautiful
how quickly the fire had spread. There were people's clothes smoking but
unburnt trying to waken their sisters.
"Fire!" He cried, waving his hands but not going any closer. "Fire!"
Men younger than him were rushing to help them out while the women went to the
well and water troughs with buckets. The screams persisted and the wails of
children soon joined them. As people pushed past him, he continued to stare. He
fought the grin trying to grace his face, instead he covered it to protect
himself from the scent of smoke and burning flesh.
He stumbled as a woman pushed past him harshly, horror marring her beautiful
features.
Leena could only cry as she stood by. Even as people tried to fight the fire
and find those lost; even as women stumbled out of burning huts curled over
smaller bodies, their faces reminding her of melted candles. Children were
crawling out, skins blistering and blackening, shrieking for their Mothers to
come.
And still she could not move. Not until water accidentally splashed her face as
villagers tried to put more of it out.
Her mother, her father, her son were burning but she kept being pulled away.
Her bare feet bubbled & blistered and pain filled her being as she walked over
burning grass and wood. Every time they found someone, her heart stopped. Some
died in their sleep from smoke, others were paralyzed with pain as fire ate
away at their flesh. Still she had not found any of them.
By the time the fire was out, the sun rose over the hills. By then, Leena
finally found her family. It looked like her mother had tried to escape but the
fire surrounded them, the villagers too far to hear their pleas over the pained
screams. Her father had tried to protect them both by covering them with his
body but it was no matter the three had died in the flames long before day
broke. Their bodies nearly unrecognizable save for Bo, the only true sign of
damage as the blistering on the side of his face.
Leena stayed in the Gift for a long while, taking care of her burned kin and
watching after her father's bees. Now that she had nothing left, she was wary
of leaving so soon. The burns on her feet, the stretch marks on her belly of
her son and she only had to look in a mirror to see her mother's eyes.
It was all she had.
-
One day Jon woke to find the woman - Elia - waiting for him. She smiled as she
took in the room and it's new additions.
"Hello, Jon."
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to warn you. You're going back...but not like you think."
"Back? You mean...?" Jon trailed off, looking at the weirwood instead of Elia.
"Yes. You were always going to go back to the North, just not this way."
"Then in what way?"
Elia sighed, she wondered why they had her doing this and not his mother, sure
it would soften the blow. She paced herself, instead deciding to reveal some of
the history behind the Gods.
"Long ago, the Gods were trying to save the people from their doom. They
hurried to create a vessel for the savior, but in their haste they made a
mistake. The soul split into multiple vessels, they haven't been able to join
them back together. The prince who was promised was never a single person. No
matter the number, they always had to save it together or else it spelled doom.
"Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa saved the world from the darkness. King Aegon I
Targaryen, Queen Visenya Targaryen, and Queen Rhaenys Targaryen conquered
warring kingdoms to save us from destruction. Now it is your turn: you,
Daenerys and Aegon, you three fit traits of the prophecy. You must save the
world from the Others before it is too late."
"Why put me through all that then? All the rebirths and deaths? What was that
supposed to show me? That they don't care about the people they're supposed to
protect?" Jon angrily asks as he thinks of all the women who lost him, their
child to the dangers. So many pointless deaths, all he learned was the Gods
were not merciful. They only helped when the were most needed but a woman in
her sorrow isn't one of them.
"They were trying to bring you back but the vessel was never right. Only as the
son of Rhaegar and Lyanna can you fulfill the prophecy. You are the song of ice
and fire, you are the way to truly uniting the North and the South against the
Others." Elia said, leaning against Jon, enveloping him in a hug. "But
everything comes with a price."
"What is the price?"
"You will love and marry a Northern woman."
"That's not so bad."
"I am not finished," She scolded but there was no real anger in her voice.
There was more worry in it if Jon was honest. "They will not give you human
form - let alone your memories until you fulfill the conditions of the curse."
Jon frowned, if they were to put him into a beastly form without his human
memories then how -
"To regain your memories, you will bed a human female and -"
"That is sacrilege!" Jon shouted, sounding more than a little horrified. "To
lay with a beast is unholy. It must be a trick!"
"The more you consummate the relationship the more your memories will return.
The spell will only break once she gives birth." Elia continued as if he never
spoke. "Only a woman who truly loves you will be able to."
"Its a humiliation, how can they approved of this?"
"Many reasons I believe. One, you have yet to realize the true purpose of your
rebirths. Two, they always had a love of unconventional, it amuses them. Three,
at the behest of your parents, they want to make sure you find someone who will
love you no matter what. And four, it's a fallback."
"What?"
"If you should fail, your children will be burdened with this prophecy but by
then it may be too late."
"Why my children? Why not Daenerys or Aegon's?"
"It is not only your children but it's more likely to be them. The Targaryen
blood is strong in your Aunt and brother, they will seek each other out. Their
children will never be the song of ice and fire, only yours. Gods do not favor
incest unless it's a means to an end.
"Daenerys will be a good ruler that I believe. They will balance each other in
ways that won't seem obvious to others but the North considers itself a
separate entity from the South. They will not kneel for much longer." Elia
said, a frown appearing on her face. "You can claim they are part of the
kingdom but they aren't, not truly. It's vast a land that is greatly isolated
from the South, they do their own decisions under the authority of the Starks
who claim to do it under the King's. But remember, the North was it's own
kingdom before they bowed to the Targaryens."
"The North won't follow a bastard."
"You are no bastard, you are a trueborn son. You will hold more power than you
realize."
"But Robb should be king, not me. He is the obvious choice, he is Eddard
Stark's first son. He'd be better at it." Jon said, tugging his curls as he
panicked. All he could think about Lady Stark's dark stares and her resentment
towards him.
"Hush, sweetling." She cooed, squeezing him to her side. She rested her chin on
his head, the scent of sap still clinging to his skin. "No one said you had to
be king, no one said Robb would be either. You just need their support,
remember what your uncle has said 'When the snows fall and the white winds
blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.'....hard times are coming Jon
but you need to stick together in anyway possible."
Jon stayed quiet, he wasn't sure how to deal with everything he'd just been
told. What would happen if he rejected this deal? Would they force him to do it
anyways to save the world or would they just send him into the next life
without the constant rebirths? Could he really live with it? Knowing that he
could've prevented deaths if he'd only swallowed his pride?
"What will you choose? Yes or no? You do not have much time."
Humanity or his pride?
Selflessness or selfishness?
Life or death?
No, he couldn't. He would find his family again and make sure they survived at
whatever cost to him.
"I'll do it."
Elia smiled weakly, tears beading in the corner of her eyes. Oh sweet fool, you
deserve so much more. He has learned but not enough, not the things the Gods
wanted him to learn. But she disagrees, he has learned the value of every life
whether it be beast or human, highborn or low. And she loved the sweet boy but
he was missing what she was putting in front of him. If only he'd realized who
they would place in his path to be his wife.
She gazed past him, looking at the pond to see the girl who would be his bride.
The girl was play Knights and Knights with her younger brother, grey eyes
shining with excitement as she dodged a blow and struck back. The youngest of
the boys sat perched on a grey wooden horse, clapping his hands excitedly
before passing his sister her prize, the reins to the white one.
The little Stark girl would be a fitting equal for Jon, despite doubts they
would have - doubts the Gods themselves had at one point or another befoee
deciding it would be so.
The bride of Jaehaerys 'Jon' Targaryen would be Arya Stark.
Chapter End Notes
     Taking a temporary two week hiatus to write the next few chapters,
     gonna try to keep updating on Sundays after it. Other news...my
     birthday is this Friday, gonna post some other WIP works that days as
     a little indulgent present to myself. Again if there's any requests
     visit my writing blog or leave a comment and I'll get back to you.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Summary
     A brief chapter to get us caught up on some of Winterfell's
     happenings as well as the Targaryen plot, mainly Arya centric.
Chapter Notes
     I don't know how I feel about this chapter but after nearly three
     weeks of hiatus I felt like I should post what I've done and move on
     or come back later. I did try to work on them but babies don't stick
     to schedules and my new nephew came two weeks early, which was weird
     most of my sister's kids came within a day or two of the predicted
     due date. Next chapter will be better as we are bring Jon back into
     the mix and I love Jon.
287
When Arya is born, it's during a Summer snowstorm. The days leading to her
birth, the clear sky had gone gray as clouds filled it. The older women of
Winterfell frowned, muttering to themselves of bad omens. The last time a child
had been born during summer snows, they lost the Lady Lyarra Stark. Sick and
feverish from birth, the woman had somehow left her chambers and eluding the
guards, escaping to the Godswoods. She had been found praying underneath it,
fingers turning purple. She died that same night, leaving behind four children
and a grieving husband.
Lord Rickard was never the same after that.
The women wondered if this was retribution against the Lady Catelyn, for the
little boy Jon Snow still lingered in their minds. Four years have passed but
no one has forgotten the boy. The room in which he spent his last days was
barred from others despite the cleaning it got, it was almost as if they
pretended the room - along with its former occupants - never existed.
It didn't stop the tales from spreading.
Lord Stark's supposed mistress, Yue, no longer visited Winterfell nor
Wintertown. She had taken the boy's death the hardest and rested the blame
squarely on Lady Catelyn's shoulders.
Benjen Stark, whenever he came to help escort prisoners - if he came - was cool
and polite to everyone, even his brother. Though the rumor was he'd raged and
fought his brother in the Godswoods when he first came, many months after Jon's
death. He hadn't been informed of the boy's passing till much later. Even his
affection for young Robb seemed subdued. He couldn't look at the boy without
being reminded of the lost child.
Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn had troubles, he hadn't slept in her chambers for
months on end after the boy's passing. They barely touched in public, no
affection grew between them, only a tolerance. The servants had worried there
would only ever be one child to the Stark family, until one day Lord Stark had
stopped being so cold. Nearly nine months after the boy's death, did things
settle into a pattern. The Lord and Lady of the house grew warmer to each other
until they announced the Lady Catelyn's pregnancy.
Sansa Stark was just a Tully colored as her mother and brother. The younger
generation of servants and townsman rejoiced but to the older generation...it
was a bit of a disappointment, yes children were a blessing but to those who've
seen Stark babes grow in the halls of Winterfell it was honest truth. To them,
it was as if the South was trying to take over the North in every way. It was
bittersweet to know what a Stark child - a child who looked like their Lord as
they should always - looked like running through the halls.
The girl grew to be sweet mannered and delicate. She was a spoiled thing
though, her mother often giving in to her pleas for sweets. How she wasn't
plumper, they did not know. She was never away from her mother's side. And now
they waited as the snow fell heavier, they sighed thinking of the little
Southern babe their lady was likely birthing, another Tully colored babe.
They were wrong.
A healer who assisted in the birth came out, her cheeks flushed with excitement
making her look years younger than she was. She gestured for everyone to come
near, she looked around a grin spreading over her face.
"She is Stark colored."
The news spread faster than anything else. The girl who'd yet to be named was
Stark colored. She came into the world howling like any wolf blooded child. Her
eyes was grey, her hair dark and wavy, long face and body softened by baby fat.
The picture that came to mind was reminiscent of one of Jon Snow.
A servant girl sent to help clean the birthing room said the Lady had gone pale
and nearly dropped the babe when she first caught glimpse of her. The servant
was too young to remember the boy with the name Snow, who they knew the Stark
daughter could pass as double. The Gods must be punishing Catelyn, the older
servants whispered. Could the lady love a girl who looked like the bastard she
scorned?
They did not know.
When the little babe was presented to the people of Winterfell, they saw the
Lady was not around. Bed rest was the excuse but others saw different. She did
not want to face them, to be reminded of the shame and hate she once held for a
child who looked exactly like her daughter. To see Lord Stark hold a babe as
Stark colored as him was like the past had come alive again. They were reminded
of Jon Snow as Ned announced the girl's name.
"Arya Stark, the newest addition to the Stark line."
They looked at their Lord and how warm he smiled at the child, how young Robb
begged to hold his dear sister.
"She needs to meet Jon, Father! Let me take her, please!" Robb insisted,
tugging on his father's arm. Everyone seemed to freeze when the heard his say
that name. They freely whispered and thought the name but never in front of
Lord Stark. With bated breath they waited to see how the man would react. It
was so silent that a pin could drop and everyone would hear it.
Ned had stiffened when he heard Jon's name pass from his son's lips. After
Jon's death, he tried to comfort Robb reminding he would always be here in
spirit. He had told him that Jon could hear him in the Godswoods, Robb claimed
Jon sometimes talked back using the wind but those were tales of fancy. After a
while Jon's name was hardly spoken in Ned's presence, only Robb and Benjen
still did and only when they were all alone.
"Yes," He said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "We will go to the
Godswoods to pray to the Gods and present your sister to them. Go ready
yourself."
Robb smiled, he ran off with Old Nan going after him and despite Old Nan's
warnings to slow, he didn't. The Septa who helped in Robb's care frowned and
shook her head, the boy spent too much time with the Old Gods. It would not do,
she would have to talk to Lady Catelyn again.
Ned adjusted the furs around Arya who woke with the slight movement. She did
not wail, she merely stared a while. Her grey gaze was not the solemn sight he
had been accustomed to. Very briefly he wondered how Jon would have reacted, to
having a sibling that look much like him. His heart gripped with pain for that
thought would never be a reality. Jon was gone, he passed into the next world;
Ned would not dwell on the dead dreams, not while he had one of his daughters
in his arms.
Speaking of daughters, he looked to where Sansa and Septa Mordane were and
asked, "Will you be joining us Sansa?"
Sansa despite being only two years old, tried very hard at being a lady
already, she looked to her Septa before she held her head high saying, "No,
Father."
She positively beamed for she finally managed to say Father without a lisp. Ned
smiled weakly, much like her mother, Sansa never liked the Godswoods the heart
tree frightened her. Perhaps when she was older she wouldn't mind.
Their walk to the Godswoods is a quiet one, Robb mumbles under his breath words
that Ned can't make out and Arya is squinting at his face. They arrive in short
time and the trees themselves seem be bursting with an excited aura, the leaves
shaking in the wind.
"Jon!" Robb called loudly to the forest, he tugged on his father's cloak
wanting him to present Arya to the tree. Ned did, shifting his arms so Arya was
visible to the carved face. "Jon! This is Arya! She's my new baby sister, she
looks just like you."
He paused, tilting his head to listen and frowned. He looked around, waiting
for the trees to rustle, for the wind to speak but nothing happened. Ned stayed
quiet, not wanting to interrupt Robb's personal ritual.
"Jon!" This time Robb touched the heart tree as he called out. "Jon, please!
It's Arya, she's here. She - she -" Tears pricked Robb's eyes when he realized
Jon was not here, that his brother wasn't talking to him and he fought to keep
them in, an impossible task if there ever was one. Robb couldn't keep them from
falling his voice turning to a croak, "She looks like you. I couldn't really
remember what you looked like until I saw her. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I forgot!
I'm a bad brother. I'm a bad brother!"
"Robb!" Ned rushed to Robb's side, nearly jostling Arya. Arya wailed anyways,
feeling her brother's distress. Ned hugged his son the best he could with a
baby in his arms. "It's okay, it's okay." He whispered, rubbing Robb's back.
"He knows you love him even if you can't remember how he looks. All he wants is
for you to be the best big brother you be for Arya.
"Really?"
"Really."
288
Arya is barely over a year old when her mother gives birth to a boy. Brandon
Stark is nothing like his namesake, he comes into the world with not much more
than a whimper. He sleeps much of the day away but when he's awake he rarely
fusses, he likes cuddling best of all. And he is dark haired but blue of eye,
Tully blue to be exact.
Arya is still small but she loves Bran.
"Ban, ban." Arya babbled as she crawled to her mother, she smiled once she
finally reached Cat, proudly showing off her eight pearly white teeth. Robb
frowned, he felt a little lost now that Arya wasn't saying his name anymore. He
was still her favorite, wasn't he?
Arya pulled herself up. She pressed herself against Bran's head, clinging to
his blanket with one hand. She smiled again and tried to kiss Bran's head.
"Mother look at her," Sansa said laughing. She quickly stopped when she
realized what Arya was about to do. "Arya!"
Startled Arya's hand fell much harder than intended onto Bran's head, Bran
wailed. Arya whined before joining his cries, falling backwards but Robb caught
her before she hit the ground.
"Sansa! Why did you do that?" Robb growled, shifting Arya in his small arms and
he glared over her head at their other sister.
"She was going to hit him!" Sansa yelled back, red splotches appearing on her
cheeks.
"But you yelled at her! She's just a baby."
"Calm down both of you." Cat's stern voice echoed out, silencing her two
eldest. "No one needs to yell, nor do you blame each other. Sansa, your brother
is right; Arya's still a baby, she's learning." She looked to Robb. "Robb, your
sister just wants to protect Bran, she didn't mean to yell. Both of you
apologize to each other."
"Sorry." They both mumbled, neither of them looking the least bit unapologetic.
Cat sighed, it would be the best she could get them to do. She looked around
for Ned, but only saw Septa Mordane.
"Where is your father?"
Both Sansa and Robb looked uncomfortable, glancing at each other then back to
Cat. Robb tightened his grip on Arya. Arya scowled, she tried thrashing in
Robb's arms. She wanted to be put down.
"In those blasted woods again." Septa Mordane said, her tone cool and polite
but her gaze showed something hostile. "That man is servant and practically
brother to the king, he lives in the seven kingdoms and yet he still practices
that barbaric religion instead of the Seven."
Robb opened his mouth to retort but Arya cried. He adjusted his hold and looked
at his mother. Cat wasn't looking at Robb though, her face was pinched and
frowning as she stared at the Septa.
"Mother, Arya and I are going to find Father." Robb said excusing himself,
Sansa followed. He did not like being on the receiving end of that look, he
knew what it meant. It meant no dessert for him no matter how hard he begged
Father to change Mother's mind. He wondered what it meant for Septa Mordane.
Inside the room, Cat stared at her faithful companion with tired eyes. The
Septa did not weaken under her gaze.
"You will not disrespect my husband's religion in his own home, Septa. It is
his right to be able to practice what he wants. There is no true law banning
the old religion."
"It is heresy!"
"That is your opinion, Septa." Cat's voice was strained as she tried to reign
in her anger. "My lord husband did not have to build me a Sept for me to do my
worship. No matter that only you and I are the only two who truly wanted it, no
matter how much it left his people disgruntled, he still put resources aside
for it. I doubt Brandon would have done the same thing! Ned is trying to make
my life here comfortable, and in order to do that, there must be compromise. If
you can't stop this foolish attitude, I fear I will have to let you go back to
the Riverlands. Do you understand?"
"Yes, milady."
291
"I don't like you! You meanie!" Arya yelled at Theon Greyjoy. There were tears
in her eyes as she ran away, dull wooden sword falling from her hand.
"Why did you have to do that! She's only four!" Robb hissed at his friend. It
was very rare Robb went against his friend in anything but this was Arya and
Robb was overprotective and indulgent to say the least.
"Exactly! She's four and a girl! She shouldn't be touching boy things, it's not
right." Theon scowled, he'd been here for nearly four years but he's not used
to being the responsible one that was his brothers' job or Yara's.
"But she's Arya!" Robb exclaimed like it was all he needed to say. Robb picked
up the wooden sword, he started walking to Arya's room. Mother wouldn't be
happy but it was just a play sword, Arya couldn't hurt herself much with it. He
remembers playing with one himself when he was younger.
Meanwhile Arya ran, her lower lip trembling as she fought to keep anymore tears
from falling. If she could hate a person with everything in her it would be
Theon Greyjoy. He was always ruining her time with Robb, saying that Arya
couldn't do this or that just because she was a girl!
"Girl!"
Arya froze. Carefully she looked around, sniffing her runny nose.
"Over here, girl."
Arya found the voice, it belonged to a balding old man with blackened hands.
"Who - who are you?"
"Mikken, blacksmith. Now why are you crying?"
Arya trembled under his stern gaze, what if he got mad at her too? Arya tried
to look strong and jerked her head up to look him right in the eyes.
"Theon says girls can't play with swords. But he's wrong and stupid!"
The man - Mikken - guwaffed, his body shook as he laughed. Arya gaped at him,
half shocked and half awed. She's never seen a man laugh like that, a deep
belly laugh. It was nice.
"You're right about that."
"Which one?"
"Don't matter if you're a girl, you got hands don't you?" Mikken said, Arya
looked down at her hand now smudged with dirt. She nodded looking very serious.
"Then you can hold a hold a sword."
She grinned, nodding along like she always knew it to be true.
"Well, girl?"
"Eh?" Arya sheepishly scratched her head, she hadn't been listening.
"A treat, would you like a treat?"
"Please!"
"Smart girl. You remind me of your brother a bit, 'cept he wasn't such a cry
baby." Mikken laughed, shaking his head. He took Arya's hand and led her back
to the forge. "Wait here a moment."
"Mhmm."
He wasn't gone that long, his hands were clean and he had a small plate of
something. Arya took the offered plate and sat on the ground. Something
fluttered over her head, covering her vision. Arya grabbed it with one hand,
the other covering her treat. She looked and it was a worn blanket, a little v
appeared between her brows evidence of her confusion.
"Blanket? Why?"
"You'll get cold." Mikken said, getting back to work, settling back into a
familiar pattern. Arya tugged it around her shoulders, he was right she was
getting cold since was a safe distance away from the heat.
"Oh... What's this?" Arya wrinkled her nose and poked at what lay on her plate.
She let out a small gasp when the yellow clump melted - wait no, it didn't melt
it broke and the sap seeped out.
"Honey. My wife used to keep bees. I do it now...it's okay to eat."
Skeptical Arya stuck her finger in her mouth, her eyes went wide with surprise.
It was honey, but she's never seen it like this.
"Heh. You remind me so much of 'em." Mikken repeated under his breath, unaware
Arya had heard him.
"Of who?"
Mikken stopped, he considered his options: tell her the full truth and say she
looks like her brother and her aunt or just give a partial lie.
"Of your brother."
He goes with the easier option. Telling Arya their names would bring questions
her father and mother wouldn't be willing or able to answer.
"Robb? Really?" She asked skeptically. Even at a young age Arya could tell she
was different from her siblings, it was too obvious. She wasn't the right
color, her hair and eyes were like Father's, not red like Mother's or Robb's.
She was stubborn, felt her emotions too deeply, liked bending the rules. She
was too boy to be a lady but too girl to be a knight.
It didn't stop her from dreaming.
"Yes."
She doesn't need to know.
292
Arya is five years old when she tried to sneak into the barred room with Abe.
She is quickly caught before she can even enter the room. How they managed that
she isn't sure, there is no one posted near there and the room itself is
locked, only those with a key can open it but Arya had gotten her hands on a
key.
"Arya," Mother's stern cadence started, Arya sunk under the weight of Catelyn's
voice. "You know very well that you are not supposed to ever go near that room.
It is locked for a reason."
"But why?"
"..." Cat paused, how could she admit to her daughter that her half brother had
loved and died in that room. "It was a sick room for a very sick little boy. We
don't want you getting sick, Arya."
"Cat, would you please leave us?"
Arya looked up at Father, it was the first time he's spoken since she was
brought to his solar. Mother frowned, clearly conveying her dissatisfaction
with her eyes before leaving.
"Arya," Father's deep voice called to her, but she didn't look up from her
feet. She swung them slowly back and forth, she heard Father rise from his seat
and his steps fall on the hard floor until he was standing in her sight. Father
crouched down, gently lifting her chin to meet her eye to eye. "Why did you try
to go into that room?"
Arya mumbled incoherently, poking her fingers together in nervousness.
"What was it?"
"Abe and the boys said there was a ghost in the room, and that if I wanted to
play with them, I had to prove to be tough and not scared like a girl. Ghosts
aren't even real anyways. Even if they were I can take of myself." Arya
repeated, her fidgeting worsening under Ned's surprised gaze. "I got the key
from when you were sleeping and Abe was only going to watch. He didn't do
anything, Father! I did it by myself, I swear!"
Ned pulled back, shocked as Arya looked at him with a familiar intensity. It
felt like lightning struck him as he looked at his daughter, in that moment she
looked much like Lyanna when she defended Howland at Harrenhal.
"Father?"
He sighed, rustling Arya's hair as a way to ease her worrying. "What did they
say about the ghost?"
"That it was a sick boy and that he was a Stark."
"That much is true. There was a sick Stark boy here and he died because of it.
That place...it's just an empty room now, but going back bring old memories. It
makes your brother and I very sad when we talk of it. He was your family Arya.
He didn't live very long and I rather you not bring it up to anyone but me.
It's a very painful memory for some."
Arya looked at her father, saw tears in his eyes. She grabbed at his face,
wincing when she heard the small slaps. "Don't be sad, Father. I'll make you
happy! I promise!"
Ned smiled as Arya kissed his forehead.
"Thank you, Arya."
293
"Arya, would you like to hold your new brother?"
Arya looked at Mother frowning, it was another boy. And a boy that looked more
like Robb than he did her. Arya pouted, she wanted a girl but not like Sansa
wanted a girl. Arya wanted her little sister to be like her, an adventurer not
a dumb lady.
Speaking of dumb ladies, here came Sansa and Jeyne Poole holding their skirts
up to avoid muddying the hem on the mud Arya had unintentionally tracked in.
Arya scowled, sticking her tongue out at the same time.
"Mother! Arya's doing it again!" Sansa whined, her voice grating on Arya's
nerves.
"Arya..." Mother warned. "Well? Would you like to?"
"No! I don't want to hold a smelly baby."
"Always rude, it's a wonder Bran even likes you. You were mean to him too when
he was a baby." Sansa drawled, a little smile on her face as she watched Arya
flush and squirm. Arya curled in on herself, she tried to hold in her anger.
But it was very hard when Sansa spoke like that but Mother said she would take
back every pair of Bran and Robb's pants that Arya stole, and force her to only
wear dresses if she acted out against Sansa again.
Arya couldn't take it anymore, she got up and stomped out of the room, letting
the door slam behind her. Cat shot Sansa a tired look.
"Must you provoke her? You are her sister Sansa."
"Some lady you are." Bran mumbled, playing with his stuffed wolf. He bobbled
the creature up and down there bed. Sansa flushed, she was not used to being
scolded after all she was Mother's favorite.
"Where could she have gone?"
Bran shrugged, Arya's business was Arya's business. He didn't like following
her to the Godswoods, Father said Bran wasn't allowed to climb there, even Bran
thought they wouldn't mind. Instead he often climbed the towers nearby much to
Mother's annoyance.
Arya had not gone very far, she had gotten sidetracked when she saw a pair of
visitors. Quietly Arya crept after the hooded women, unaware that one of the
woman was perfectly able to hear her loud steps. The women knew their way
around Winterfell, they would occasionally pause and lean to each other saying
things Arya was too far to hear as well managing to avoid servants, Theon and
Arya's family. They finally stopped, both hesitating at the entrance.
"Your steps will need to be quicker if you don't want to be left in the
darkness, little wolf." A husky voice said, she sounded amused.
Arya jumped, she looked around at first and saw no one else, so one of them
must be talking to her.
"Who are you? This is the home of the Starks, show yourselves!" Arya said, but
her voice quavered as she realized the gravity of the situation. Here were a
pair of strangers, intruders for all Arya knew and here Arya was with no weapon
nor help nearby.
One of the women laughed silently, or rather Arya guessed she was laughing. All
she could see was a body shaking. Brown hands reached up to pull away the dark
cloak. Arya took a step back at what she saw.
"Nymeria..." Arya whispered in awe. This woman looked much like how Arya
pictured the warrior queen from Dorne.
"It looks like you have a fan, Amira." The other woman said, her hood fell back
when she shook her head in amusement. She on the other hand, looked very
Northern. She looked as if she always fit in here.
"Oh hush, I think it's sweet. Nymeria was a fierce general, if anything it's
the highest compliment anyone has ever paid me."
Arya took a good look at these women, trying to judge if they were like the
villains of her tales. Their clothes were fine, if a little thin for the
weather. The brown skinned one, Amira had kind eyes with little wrinkles near
the corners of her eyes and mouth. Father once said that it showed a person's
happiness. The other one's eyes were more careful, almost caged but there was
clear affection between the women.
"Who are you?" Arya repeated.
"I am Amira." She curtsied to the little lady. "And this is my dear friend Yue.
We are friends of your father, we were merely visiting the crypts before we see
him...there is someone important we need to see...it's been ten years." She
said quietly, the joy slipping from her face. Arya felt guilt thread through
her body, she felt bad for making a stranger feel sad.
"Can I come? I can help!" Arya offered, trying to make up for her blunder. If
these were Father's guests it would do no good to insult them. The women
glanced at each other, Yue shrugged as if to say your choice. Amira sighed.
"But you must stay close, it's dark in there."
"I promise." Arya swore while holding out her pinky, amused Amira hooked her
own to Arya's.
The three walked quietly through the crypts, Arya saw all the statues and
coffins lining the crypt. The deeper they went in the colder it got, Arya
rubbed her arms for warmth when Yue pulled Arya to her side, gesturing for the
girl to take hold of the cloak. Arya kept it tugged as close as she could
without tripping up Yue.
"Who are we visiting?"
"An old friend and her son."
"..." Arya knew it was nice or appropriate but she asked, "How did she die?"
"She was spirited away."
"What does that mean? Did a monster take her?"
"Some would say that," Amira muttered under her breath. Arya looked at Amira
confused. Amira smiled at her but it was a brittle one. "It was war that took
her."
"But we won, the good guys always win."
"Heh," Yue scoffed, the torch in her hand wavering. "This isn't a story girl,
there is no such thing as good in a war. Too many lives are lost and affected
long after the war is done. Never forget that."
Arya nodded, trying to look sagely but confusion was still on her face. Finally
they stopped in front of a woman's grave, Amira knelt and pressed her forehead
to the statue's lap.
"Lyanna, forgive me."
Yue unhooked her cloak from her shoulders and wrapped Arya in it. She lit the
two torches that were nearby before finding an empty holder and putting hers in
it. Once her hands were free, she laid one on Amira's shoulder.
"You know she already has. We did our best, somethings are just the will of the
Gods."
"But I should have done more."
Arya fidgeted, unsure if she was really welcomed here with them. She looked at
the statue, more than a little in awe of it. She's seen the other statues, it's
obvious this is better made and out of a different material. It was more
detailed, Arya felt like it could come to life again. The closer she looked the
more familiar it looked.
"She looks like Uncle Benjen. They have the same face, cept she's prettier."
Both women startled, they had temporarily forgotten the other occupant. Yue
looked at Lyanna's grave, she had seen Benjen Stark only two or three times
before but she had to admit she saw the similarities.
"She also looks like you." Amira said kindly, her brown eyes glowing with
warmth. "She was crowned Queen of Beauty and Love before."
Arya flushed, "I'm not pretty, Sansa is. I'm just Arya Underfoot. I'm not
pretty."
"Fools can't see your potential."
"Huh? But I don't want to be pretty, if I'm pretty I can't fight. Mother will
make me marry a stupid boy and have babies. I want to be like Nymeria or
Visenya! They were warriors!"
"Who says you can't be both? All the tales talk of their great beauty as well
as their strengths, even your Aunt Lyanna was much like that. So tell me Arya
Stark, why can't you?"
Arya stared at her dumbfounded. How could she reply to such a question? So she
changed the topic.
"And where is the son?" Arya looked around, wondering which statue belonged to
Aunt Lyanna's son.
"There's no statue for him. He's over here...We had to burn his body. We didn't
want the disease to spread, he had the worst case of it." Yue said softly while
pointing to a stone coffin, a pained look flashing over her face before it
settled into something sad. "He would have turned twelve next month.'"
"What was he like? Is he like Robb?" Arya asked unaware that they barely knew
Robb.
"When they were younger and one of us visited, I would say yes. He could be a
happy child but most times he had to be careful and quiet...out of sight if I
was honest. There were people here that weren't...happy he was here." Yue
paused, this wasn't what Arya was asking, she probably wanted more than vague
answers. "He liked bees. And sword fighting, he could've been amazing if he had
training. He looked like Benjen, true Stark looks that boy. His father would
have struggled to see any of his features in him."
"What was his name?"
".. I think it's time for us to see your father." Amira said, her gaze
flickering Yue's. It didn't matter whose name Arya was asking, they would not
share it. "Come now."
"But!"
"We can visit again before we leave. I think we have stalled long enough."
Arya wilted, she wanted to hear more about Aunt Lyanna, she's heard the story
from Old Nan only once before Father forbade Nan to never tell the story again.
Whenever Uncle Benjen and Father talked about their family they glossed over
Aunt Lyanna, Arya hadn't even know Aunt Lyanna had a son.
"Arya, I want you to swear you will never tell anyone what you heard." Yue
ordered, her face stern as she stared down at the six year old. Arya could see
the entrance from here, their steps had been much quicker returning than
arriving.
"But why?"
"Sometimes we keep secrets to avoid hurting those we love and what you just
learned could really hurt people. Do you want that?"
Arya shook her head 'no'. Yue smiled and it was like the sun peeked through
thunderous clouds. Arya blushed, her hands touching her heated face.
"Good, now could you give this to your father. He'll know where to find us."
Arya nodded taking the letter in her hand and running off before Yue could say
much more. Her cheeks still burned, it only pushed Arya to go faster. She ran
unaware that the cloak had fallen behind her, dodging people here and there
till she found her way up to Father's solar.
"Father!" Arya shouts bursting in, causing Steward Poole to drop all his
papers. Father shot her a frustrated look as he stood to help. Arya hopped in
place, waving the letter around like one would a flag. "I got a letter for you!
It's important!"
"And who gave you this letter?" Ned asked taking the letter from Arya's hand.
There was no seal, no discernible markings or anything. He worried who was near
Arya and if he had to send guards out after these intruders.
"They said they were friends and that you would know where to find them them
after you read it."
Ned stiffened as he read the words, the hand writing very familiar. We need to
talk.
"Vayon, we'll be continuing this later. There is important business I need to
attend to."
"Father can I -?"
"No, Arya. You need to do lessons with Maester Luwin."
Arya frowned, she wanted to follow but she knew Father would get mad. Father
had given them yesterday and today off from lessons so they could spend time
with Mother now that she was done having the baby. How could he forget that?
-
"My daughter?! Really you two?"
"She was sweet, no harm was brought to her. And she looks a lot like Jon. It
must have pained your wife when she first saw her." Amira said with a laugh.
She sighed wistfully, laying her hand on her cheek. "To have seen her face
would have been amusing."
"There is no need to be cruel." Ned grumbled, looking at the two women who
looked perfectly at ease with their surroundings despite the still figures
around them.
"I would say the same thing about your wife's treatment of Jon but that would
change nothing. It is far too late for that." Yue said in a brusque manner.
"What exactly do you need to tell me? It has to be important, why else would
you make the journey here."
Amira rose, dusting off her skirt. "I had a very important question for, now I
wonder if I should even bother to voice it. It would bring trouble that you
obviously don't need."
Ned stepped closer, wanting to keep the conversation as quiet as he could.
"What is it?"
"Do you think you can handle it?" Yue asked, she was reluctant to bring Amira
to Winterfell if Ned wasn't going to join them. "You no longer have the threat
of treason hanging over your head. You would risk bring it back."
"I swear by the Old Gods and the New, I will hear what you say and promise to
stay silent if I oppose your plans. No one will know."
"What would you do if I said there was another of the Targaryen line still
surviving." Amira said quietly, she looked down at her hands. Could she trust
him with the full truth or would it just break him?
Ned frowned, who could have survived? If it was former Queen Rhaella, they
would've known of a silver haired woman traveling with the former royal
children. Ned himself had seen Rhaegar's body and guarded it from Robert's
attempts to desecrated it. He had seen Aerys' body at the foot of the throne, a
shocked Jaime Lannister sitting on the Iron Throne. He'd seen the bodies of
Rhaenys and Aegon lain in front of Robert's feet by Lannister men.
"Who? How?"
"Targaryen supporters, those who saw the what Aerys was doing and had plans set
for things like this." Amira explained. "We had doubles for the children, the
plan was to smuggle them out and leave behind the decoys. It's awful, I know
but with how Aerys was it was good to have these plans ready."
"So Rhaegar's eldest escaped too."
"No, actually only one... it is merely a rumor, but it comes from a reliable
source...but if it were true would you support their claim to the throne? Could
you handle having an unknown on the throne or would you rather let the current
council try and fail to control Robert from driving us into ruin? "
Ned frowned, he knew that Robert was king in name, Jon Arryn did everything for
the man while Robert went out whoring, hunting and drinking. He thought a crown
and marriage would have settled his friend down but Robert had not changed much
since their boyhood. Ned thought of Robert's many bastards spread through the
land including one Mya Stone.
But then he remembered what they said about Viserys the beggar king.
"If you plan to put Viserys back on the throne, you will not have my support.
He is as mad as his father."
Yue laughed, her voice then fell to a hush that Ned strained to hear. "Who said
we were putting Viserys on the throne?"
"There were only two people who had better claims to the throne than Viserys
and one of them has been dead for ten years."
"Stop with your secrets, who is it?"
Amira leaned in close, a grin on her face, "Aegon Targaryen."
297
Arya woke from her dream panicked. She glanced around the room hoping it had
all been a dream that Winterfell never burned. She fell out of her bed,
dragging her furs down with her. She grabbed the closest one and stood, she
slipped on her slippers and ran out her door.
"Arya!" Sansa shouted, sounding rather scandalized. Arya was wearing only her
shift and a fur as she ran past her. Arya hoped Father was still in his room or
at least his solar.
She was panting by the time she reached her father's room, still winded from
her nightmare. Arya knocked on Father's door, hopping in place as she waited
for answer. She wasn't going to barge into the room again, she did that one
time too many.
"Come in."
Arya rushed into Father's arms, feeling his arms embraced her she began to
bawl. Her breaths became hitched as her cries grew louder. She felt herself get
hefted up, her arms and legs automatically wrapped themselves around Father.
"What's wrong? Arya, are you hurt?"
It took a while but his hand rubbing along the line of her spine, eased her
cries to a soft wheezing.
"I - I had a bad dream. I had you and Sansa but something happened and... Sansa
was gone and I was all alone. And you were dead, and so were Mother and Robb. I
couldn't find Rickon or Bran. I cried for you but you never came." Arya buried
her head into his neck, her body shaking again. "Every where I went, there were
monsters all around me. Lions prowling and stags dying, roses overgrowing and
choking out everything."
Ned stiffened, he remembered last time he heard a dream like this. Benjen had
woken up sobbing only a few months before Lyanna disappeared. He dreamt of
wolves dying alone and among the flames, of dragons being slaughtered by lions
and another being impaled by a stag, and the stars falling. It wasn't until
years later did he realize what Benjen had dreamed came true.
Starks died, Lyanna alone and Father & Brandon by Aerys' mad obsession with
flames. Aerys, Rhaenys and Aegon were killed by Lannisters and their men.
Rhaegar was killed by Robert. The Daynes...two of their stars went out within a
week of each other.
Even now Ned is unsure if it was merely a coincidence or if his brother had a
touch of greensight. Was that the true reason why Benjen left? Could it be Arya
had it as well or was this a warning from the Gods to push him to decide? He
would send for Howland, his friend would be a better council for these matters.
He had told Amira and Yue he would think on it, and they assured him it would
take years before the Targaryens would make their move.
But by their expressions, they seemed to think it wouldn't be long before one
of them would make their move. Ned had been thinking on it for a long time, he
thought of the houses he could trust with this knowledge because he couldn't
rally behind a Targaryen and expect his bannermen to automatically follow him.
He already knew who he had to watch out for, and who would always be by his
side, he knew which houses would need a more pragmatic argument to do it.
And then he thought of Robert of the pain this would cause his friend but
Robert had never been one suited for responsibility. He never cared for the
consequences that came of his lifestyle; not the children he left behind, the
alliances he ruined, or the debt he dug himself in. He was not fit to be Lord
of the Stormlands let alone the whole seven kingdoms. Ned wished he had
realized this when they were fighting for the crown but he had been more
concerned about avenging his family and bringing Lyanna back. He fought to
better the kingdom, not for Robert to leave his duties to Jon Arryn nor for the
Lannisters to have power of their king.
Ned had no idea what sort of person Aegon Targaryen was like but under the
right care he could learn and grow to better Westeros. Robert was old and set
in his way, to follow him would leave Ned's family to ruin. Arya's dream was
the final push for him to support the boy king. If he wanted to keep them safe
and together, he'd have to build support and strengthen the North, prepare them
for another war that would come no matter what side they were on.
"Father?" Arya expected him to say something soon after, his silence worried
her. She hadn't seen him this serious since the visitors came a few years ago.
"I'll keep you safe, Arya. Winter is coming but we will endure."
Arya frowned, she was never sure what the words meant but she felt safer
hearing Father say that. She squeezed him tight and kissed his cheek, giggling
when his beard tickled her skin.
"Can we go back to bed, Father? I don't want to go down yet."
"Just a little longer."
-
Ned watched his daughter from his solar window, Arya and Bran were trying to be
sneaky and play away from the training yard but Ned could always recognize the
sound of wooden swords clacking together. For a brief moment he saw himself,
Benjen, Lyanna and Hodor in the training yard, playing around with their
swords. He was glad Arya no longer held the dark dredges of her nightmare
clinging to her.
It was obvious how happy she was to be training with her brother even if it was
in secret. She was quick on her feet, dodging Bran's sword and striking from
behind. Bran cried out as he fell but he held no ill will for his sister.
Rickon had cheered loudly, clapping his hands and gestured for Arya to come for
her prize. All of them were much too big for the old wooden horses but they
still loved it. Arya dance around the white horse, crowing her victory to the
heavens.
How he wished he could let her do as she wanted and train with Robb, but Cat
would never allow it. Even Ned had to admit he worried over Arya getting hurt
by the rougher style the North fought with. She was not built for it, she
wasn't like the Mormont women with their hardy frames that were evident from a
young age. He would need to find a style that would suit her.
But that would have to wait, today he needed to find someone willing to brave
the Cronnag to deliver his message to Howland. He would need his closest ally
at his side. There was much they needed to discuss before he could consider
hosting his bannermen and bringing the most loyal to this inner circle.
He looked down at his letter once more, he hoped he was walking the right path.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Originally there was more to chapter 9 but then I was like nah I'm
     going to split it into three, give each one it's own focus. One third
     in the Wolfswoods, another in King's Landing and the last third set
     in Winterfell/Wolfswoods. They're all kinda short as a result. This
     chapter is from animal povs but let's pretend they can see colors
     (cause I forgot like a dummy that they can't see reds). Also like a
     big dummy I thought I posted before bed when really I just saved it
     to drafts and never bothered to check.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                i. Alpha-Mother
The woods down south are warmer, a mercy to a weary mother to be. If she were
still up North she would have trouble finding a safe shelter from the snow
flurries or hunt comfortably with the new weight in her belly. She will be
mother soon, she must find a good shelter where she can hide her pips while she
hunts. Alpha-Brother-Mate died nearly two moons turns before, a fight for
dominance between Alpha-Brother-Mate & Brother-Usurper resulted in his death.
And she, unwilling to submit to Brother-Usurper, left with her muzzle bloodied
and her belly growing heavy as she slipped through holes in man-ice-wall and
travelled down, down, down until she felt too slow.
The days were now long and dark, the air now had a cold bite that tried to seep
into her bones, the scent of snow and pine filling her nose, the crunch of snow
and foliage under her paws her only welcome. She is tired and hungry, she
pauses when she hears the babble of a stream, her hair is fast as she lopes
toward it. The first water she's tasted that doesn't have the dredges of muck
making the majority.
Alpha-Mother has walked too long, there are no caves here, the ground grown
hard the cold deepens. But this place will have to do for her den. This
riverbank was not a true den, even with the incline it could not properly
shield her and her pups from enemy predators or small cousins nor from the
harsh weather that would come. Though she struggles and the pups wriggle inside
her, she dug out a large enough hole for her to curl up under. They will come
soon and she needs rest. She will hunt once she has birthed her litter.
The days grew short and while Alpha-Mother did not leave her den very often,
she was always able to find prey and bring it back to eat whether it was the
small chittering squirrels, the frightful rabbits, or on one occasion a sneaky
fox trying to steal her cornered prey. She can hear her cousins near by, can
hear their calls but pays them no mind. They are too cowardly to make a move,
even so at her worst - even with pups making a fuss in her belly - she is still
stronger and faster than them. It would be foolish to try.
A part of her longs to make a new pack with the cousins, having them hunt for
her while she sticks to her young until her pups have grown enough, running and
yapping around her legs. Yet another part knows she will be alone for this, any
idea to form a new pack will need to wait, she was always going to be alone for
birth. She stretches, pain blooming low in her body and she hunched over trying
to get more comfortable. It won't be long now.
Alpha-Mother was right. She laid on her side for a while as the pain continued
until she felt the urge to crouch and push. With a quiet howl, she pushed, a
small red fleshy sack slipping from her body. Gently she bit through it, taking
any bit of it from her pup. As she licked it to encourage breathing, she took
in its scent. It was a soft masculine scent, it filled her with warmth to know
she could have given Alpha-Brother-Mate a male. The rest of the births came
easy, much faster.
Her oldest male was dark furred, various shades of deep dark browns, he pawed
at her belly while he waited for his litter mates. The next male was shades of
gray, he whimpered searching for a moment before hungrily latching onto one of
her teats. The third male looked much like one of the females, both their furs
were lighter browns and creams, they pressed their tiny bodies to her own large
form. Her other female was pale grey, she was loud with her whining and
grunting. Though it was her youngest, pale as snow, who worried her; he was
silent even as he suckled from her. He was the runt, she did not expect him to
live long but it was mercy that kept her from dragging him away from his litter
mates.
It took her a week to regain her strength, her only meal made up of fleshy
birth sacks not really filling but it was enough to let her keeping making
milk. With a stretch and a yawn, Alpha-Mother left her little den, nipping her
pups when they blindly tried to follow her warmth. She knew it was instinctive
but she was hungry and unwilling to devour the runt. If she ate one, she may
start eating them all.
The hunt was good, her limbs ached from disuse but her body always knew what to
do. It was easy to track her prey, a little challenging to kill with how slow
she felt but she otherwise managed to drag her kill near her den. Her belly was
full for the next few nights.
By the end of the second week, the pups eyes began to open. She had reared back
violently. The runt, he had eyes as red as life blood. An abomination, she kept
an abomination alive, fed him from her own teat instead of killing him as
nature would. Her muzzle pulled back ready to snarl yet she stopped, she did
not want him near her pups but she did not want to kill him. With little
gentleness, she picked him up by his scruff, his siblings whining and barking
in protest while she left their den and hid him a length away.
                                    i. Runt
Runt shivered Alpha-Mother had left him alone, away from warmth-comfort-home.
Darkness was surrounding him, at every sound he whimpered and flinched, he did
not have the safety of warmth-comfort-home anymore. His little bladder was full
and he couldn't go without Alpha-Mother, his body shook worse as it tried to
keep it in.
He couldn't.
Runt soiled himself, yelping at the force and the strangeness of doing it
without Alpha-Mother helping. He didn't feel that tightness pressing against
his bladder, in fact all he felt was empty...hungry. He whined and barked
hoping Alpha-Mother would come back.
He strained to hear his litter mates or Alpha-Mother, he heard nothing but a
strange word. A comforting sound amongst the dark and loneliness. It repeated
over and over, much like a heartbeat.
Are-Yuh.
Are-Yuh.
Are-Yuh.
Are-Yuh.
Arya.
Runt did not know who or what that was, all he knew was it brought a warmth to
his cold body. He repeated the the sound over and over. He left, going away
from his mess and settled not far from where Alpha-Mother left him. With a soft
bark, he rested his head down on his paws, morning would come and he could try
finding Alpha-Mother & his litter mates.
                               ii. Alpha-Mother
When early morning came, her stomach growls. It has been too long since she had
a filling meal, she must be strong enough now to hunt after larger prey. She
stands, her pups now used to her absences merely huddle together with each
other. Her cubs were smart, they adapted to survive. She leaves the den, happy
that the cold hasn't worsened, snow would make hunting harder once her pups
joined her.
She stalks past where she left the runt last night, she sees him curled against
a large boulder. Whether he is alive she does not care to know, she has let him
live long enough. She lopes away from the riverbank, up the rocky hill to where
the land was flat and worn from man. She raised her nose to the air and
inhaled, there was nothing in the air. Not even day old scents lingered, the
forest was uneasily quiet. The only noise Alpha-Mother could hear was the
babbling brook.
Alpha-Mother shakes her body, ignoring the bad feeling in her body. She was
hungry, she was making enough milk for the pups. She walked deep into the
woods, until she finally caught a scent. Her mouth watered as she realized what
it was.
A stag.
A worthy and filling meal.
She stalks, finding it not far from her current location. She cracks a branch
under her paw, her prey freezes then bolts. Her mouth pulls back into a grin,
baring her teeth as she chases him towards the man-road. She gets close enough
to land a few scratches. She was already pouncing, mouth open and ready to sink
in when it suddenly changed direction.
He reared back, rising on his hind legs and struck with his hooves. Alpha-
Mother pulled back, muzzle wet with her own blood. It tried to dominate her, he
managed to get close enough to tear at her ear. Instead of falling back again,
she circled him and then dove to claw his belly. She turned just as she heard
the slick sound of organs hitting the ground.
Alpha-Mother choked, her throat speared by large horns. Impossible! How? It
should be in pain, unable to move. She tried kicking off the slumped body but
the horns would not give. She hunched over, ignoring the increase of pain as
the horns went further into her. She bit and clawed until she heard it snap
off.
She dragged herself and the horn away from the man-road, dripping blood from
her wounds. Her world started to blur and darkened. Her steps were unsteady as
she went down moss covered rocks. She faltered, the crossroads one way would
bring her back to her cubs, her healthy litter and the other...the other would
bring her to the runt. He must be dead by now.
She couldn't move one more step, her body was sluggish and slow, all she could
hear was her own heartbeat in her ears. She slumped to the ground, blood slowly
pooling under her. She heard a soft whimper, bleary eyed she looked and saw
white coming towards her. At first she thought it was her girl but he was pure
white and red eyed.
Runt.
She tried to growl, try to scare him away but he came close not caring that she
was bleeding. He buried his nose against her fur, finding a teat, pawing and
sucking. She's dying and all he wants is food. It served her right, she
abandoned him and he treated her last moments like this.
Her eyes closed, she could barely see anyways. Alpha-Mother wheezed, opening
her eyes when she felt something wet touch her face. She saw Runt, licking her
wounds and he finally made a sound.
A soft whine.
Alpha-Mother huffed, a soft bark leaving her. Her last action in this world.
                                    i. Pups
Alpha-Mother has not returned. Their bellies are growling, they nudged each
other and tried to play to stave off hunger. The sun climbed the sky, the
clouds came out and covered it, they knew it was time to feed but still Alpha-
Mother did not return. They eyed each other warily now.
Where was Alpha-Mother?
Should they leave?
Should they go find her?
It was the dark furred one, the oldest male who took the lead. The grey pair
followed never ones for being left behind. The cream colored ones glanced at
each other then at the backs of their litter mates. The female did not want to
leave, this was warmth-comfort-home. It was not safe out there for her. They
could only go out once Alpha-Mother allowed it. The male started to leave,
looking back at his sister when she whimpered. He gestured for her to follow,
not once looking back at her.
The female stamped her paws, but reluctantly came along. Already she could hear
her siblings barking. The pair rushed to their siblings, finding they with
Alpha-Mother but she did not greet them. She did not rise from her slumped
position. They crowded around her, pressing their snouts to her teats, her body
cooler than before and still. All their pawing and their barks did not rouse
Alpha-Mother.
They settled against her body, the truth there in their minds but they did not
want to admit it. Alpha-Mother had been their only chance for survival. What
could they do now?
Chapter End Notes
     I'm debating whether I should take care of the Lannisters when they
     visit so I can focus on the Targaryens or should I keep them? Leave a
     comment on your choice and maybe it'll help me choose.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
     You know I feel bad for Jon Arryn, he has an awful wife and probably
     had fertility issues his whole life resulting in a weak son. But at
     the same time, I want to yell at him, this is the guy considered wise
     and cunning, who is holding the kingdom together after winning the
     war. Yet he's being so obvious about what he's doing!! I get its for
     plots sake but you're honestly telling me that he would be so
     obvious? Anyways sorry this is late, I rewrote this like twenty times
     while taking care of four sick kids, it was awful until i finally
     found the path... It still feels choppy and information overload tbh
     and Korrin took a bigger role than she was meant to but oh well she
     gave me a reason to keep Jon Arryn alive and for the Lannisters to
     get their due. Happy holidays, it's still Christmas here for like
     another three minutes so Feliz Navidad mi amigos.
Lannisport
"Are you sure you won't join me in King's Landing? I'm sure he would rather
hear it from your mouth rather than mine." Korrin said voice filled with dread.
Korrin did not want to meet with the benefactor, it had been too many years and
they had not parted on good terms. She wasn't even supposed to be in
Lannisport, her division was primarily the Crownlands, sometimes the Stormlands
if they were spread thin. But this assignment required more discretion than her
father had ever given anything else, she to come herself. Her father had
already laid the groundwork but a more urgent assignment came up in Essos.
Honestly the man was pushing his sixties, he should be relaxing not
gallivanting off to Pentos. "Surely you wouldn't want him to question your
reliability, do you Father?"
Her father let out a throaty chuckle, shaking his head as pushed back Korrin's
dark hair back. Korrin frowned, adjusting her scarf until it covered her hair
again. Still, her nerves had her playing with the excess material as she tried
to change her father's mind.
While Korrin had been slowly but surely replacing him as head, no longer tip
toeing with trepidation as she did as acting head. She didn't want to be head,
a spy would be the better choice of the two for her. She did not mind the foot
work, it was less stressful she did not have so many people relying on her as
they did now. In all honesty Kore never wanted to be a spy, let alone one of
the many heads of a spy organization. She had been satisfied serving House
Arryn like her mother before her, she had not been born with her father's
wanderlust.
But unfortunately, Lysa Tully saw her as a threat for Lord Arryn's affection;
that was something that baffled Korrin. Unless Lysa Tully was seeking a father
figure, she would have no competition for Lord Arryn's romantic affection. Lord
Arryn had been more of a father than Korrin's own father had been, Korrin had
served him from her seventh year till her twenty fifth. She began just serving
meals but quickly started delivering reports to and fro until he had her
scribing. While her mother had already taught her her numbers, Korrin learned
to read and write properly with Lord Arryn and his Steward.
When she asked why her, he replied that it was nice to have someone interested
in his work since all his squires and wards were more interested in weapons
training that the aging Lord couldn't always do. She didn't really have the
heart to tell him she had no interest in this, so she continued working. Every
morning, she would wake eat her own breakfast before getting Lord Arryn's and
starting on her latest pile of work. She had grown accustomed to hearing the
soft scratch of a quill, the occasional interruptions and the quiet
conversation that often lapsed into a comfortable silence.
So of course when she discovered she was being fired because of a jealous
sixteen year old, it came more as a shock than it should have. Lord Arryn
didn't want any conflicts, he had to let Korrin go but he found her a nice
position in his sister's household as well as paying her for years of service.
It was a position that Korrin didn't want, she had done nothing wrong. To treat
her as such made her angry and instead of going for House Waynwood, she left.
She originally thought of finding a new house to serve perhaps in the
Riverlands but every time she thought of doing so anger surged through her. So
instead she left to find her father, a man she only vaguely remembered and
found him through the Many Mothers. She learned of the communications network
turned information network, no one ever paid much attention to the nomadic clan
so it became easy to do it right under their noses. She began working with him,
learning everything she could.
She already knew how to stay quiet and observe people from Lord Arryn. But
Father and his network, they taught her to keep her steps silent, how to slip
from disguise to disguise, to shift herself into the right personality for each
person. The honor she had learned to value under Lord Arryn's teachings, had
slowly diminished under theirs. She did things no woman of decent upbringing
would do; the words of House Arryn flashing in her mind any time she laid
herself bare or took a life, they caused a burning sensation in her belly that
turned to bile. Korrin feared if she saw Lord Arryn again, he would see how
dishonorable she had become.
As if reading her mind, her father spoke. "There is no shame in what you do. He
tries to shame you for what you do, leave. Don't bother telling him anything,
remember he came to us first. If he thinks you lack honor, then tell me where
is his?"
His ship would be leaving soon, she half-heartedly attempts to convince him to
stay but she has already said her goodbyes. She smiled at her father, hugging
him once more before letting him leave. Korrin adjusted her scarf once more
before disappearing into the throng of people heading towards the market.
She had another meeting. Korrin had already confirmed the rumor involving
Cersei and twin babes. Thea hadn't want to dredge up old memories but after
careful prodding Thea admitted she had slept with the king multiple times, she
could even describe the unique birthmark on his inner thigh. The babes were
both boys, black of hair and blue of eye... Baratheon blue to be exact. Cersei
had Thea's babes drowned before they were even a week old.
Korrin played tourist, her dark freckled skin and white facial paint added to
her act. There were no tribes or clans that dressed like she did; most
Westerosi assumed she was Dornish or from Essos, she never corrected them. If
anything was ever traced to her, people would only remember a strange
foreigner. When she asked for a place to clean herself, they recommended the
local inn as well as the bathhouse.
She followed the directions, already knowing the way. She paid the girl in the
front of the bathhouse, asking for a maid to come help her groom. Korrin
mentioned Violet by name, saying a friend recommended her services. It was a
gamble, while this was Violet's usual work shift, there were only three other
women working at the moment. There was no guarantee she would get Violet.
Korrin stripped herself bare, cleaning makeup off her freckled face before
touching the steaming water with a hand. It was comfortable enough to get in.
She sunk in, playing with the lavender and jasmine petals while she waited.
"You asked for assistance, milady?"
Korrin looked behind her, Violet was a woman stooped with age but had a
prescribe that made her seem bigger than she was. There was a Lannister look to
her but then again Lannisport was filled to the brim with Lannisters, their
cousins and the like. Korrin rose petals sticking to her skin, tilting her head
and looking down her nose at Violet. Violet stood firm under Korrin's
scrutinizing gaze.
"Ah, yes. You are just the person I need to talk to."
-
King's Landing
Jon Arryn was very tired, his bones ached and his belly was empty. Another late
day of work, of checking over document and sending out orders. It was
infuriating that he could barely manage to even sleep, while Robert was off
whoring and drinking. The man didn't even bother with coming for even an hour
now. Jon sighed rubbing his temples, some days he really regrets letting Robert
of all people lay claim to the throne. He had known how irresponsible the man
had been in his youth, it had been a hopeful thought that the crown would
mature Robert that let Jon allow it. Gods how he wishes he could go back, stop
it from happening and installing Ned on the throne. Even with his bastard
child, Ned was the better choice. Not that the man would have ever taken what
Robert considered his birthright away.
Perhaps there was a fault in having too much honor.
"Would you like a glass of wine, Lord Arryn? Your lady wife sent a new casket
of wine for you." His cupbearer politely asked, he hoped Lord Arryn would say
no. The poor boy was working nearly as hard his Lord, officially his duty was
to serve drinks to Lord Arryn but more and more of his time was spent running
around like an errand boy, fetching tombs and the like for the aging man.
Honestly Jon relied more on Gareth than he did his squire, Hugh.
"Please, Gareth. If you could just fetch me something to eat it would be much
appreciated. Your duties shall be done for the night right after that." Jon
said, waving off the boy. Gareth nodded, pouring Lord Arryn a glass of Arbor
Gold before leaving the room with a much lighter step. Korrin took that moment
to enter Lord Arryn's chamber, a slight frown appearing on her face as she
watch Lord Arryn reach for the glass.
Jon was about to lift the goblet to his mouth, when a dark hand covered it.
"I really do wish you would get a food taster or use silver like those rulers
in Essos, if only to ease my fear of Robert actually having to rule if
something were to happen to you." The woman said with an amused smile but the
somber look in her eyes spoke of truth. Lord Arryn looked up at Korrin for a
split second before finishing this last page. As much as he wanted to dismiss
her so he could finish his work, perhaps scheduling a meeting for tomorrow, he
needed to hear what she gathered.
He opened his mouth, but he paused and frowned as he took in her appearance.
Her appearance had changed greatly from when he last saw her. Her hair, now
black as coal, was pulled back with a leather tie, she wore men's clothing. If
he didn't recognize her face after watching her grow over the years, he could
have very easily mistaken her for a girlish man. Her androgynous features
helped her pass well enough, Ser Loras had similar issues, often mistaken for a
lovely lass than a man. As much as he would like to ask why she was wearing
such clothing, he wanted to get to the heart of the matter. He was wasting
enough time talking about wine.
"I've never needed a taster in my years before being the King's Hand and I
never needed one after. You know that fact very well. I am not the king, only
the King's Hand." Jon groused, lifting her hand away from his cup and rose the
cup to his lips.
"But that is my point! You are the Hand, the shadow ruler of the Seven
Kingdoms, some would even say the true ruler." Korrin scolded, taking the cup
away from him and twirling the stem between her fingers before she sat down.
"There is a lot that you didn't know or notice. I served you for years, I saw
how Lady Rowena worried for you so badly that she hired a tester behind your
back."
She regretted admitting Lady Rowena's secret when she saw the way Lord Arryn
folded into himself. While the two Arryns hadn't been in love with each other,
it was obvious to anyone who knew them that they cared for each other.
"Do not spread falsehoods, even within these walls." Jon said slowly, trying to
keep his emotions from overwhelming him.
"They are not falsehoods." Korrin gently replied. "While I can't say the
kingdom has prospered, it certainly hasn't fallen to ruin as it would if Robert
was actually in control. As if he hasn't already been trying."
"Korrin, if you would be so kind as to return my glass? It has been a tiring
day, I do need it. If it worries you so much hire one for me but today I will
have my wine."
"Who sent this wine?" She asked, not even considering giving it back. A pensive
look on her face as she sniffed the wine. It didn't smell different, she
fiddled with her bag, searching for Lord Arryn's gift, only to realize it was
still in her room. "Was it your wife?"
"Of course, it was Lysa. Why would you even need to ask?"
"I also heard some rather nasty whispers that stopped before I left King's
Landing, it seems you were getting too close to something better left in the
dark. It was a good thing you found my father when you did. Who knows what
would have happened if you continued on your own..." She pauses as if only now
realizing she went off tangent but everything she says has a purpose. "Did you
know she was meeting with Littlefinger? In his whore house, many times and even
bringing Sweetrobin along with her. On one of her visits, she left with a
casket of wine, likely this same wine we have here. If he suspects something,
if the rumors were true and he was part of them, then he could very well be
trying to take you out. If I'm honest, I would not trust anything given by
Littlefinger. Nasty little worm, he uses people so long as they're useful and
disposes them when he's done. If it weren't for the fact that she is your wife
- the Hand's wife - she would be of no use to him anymore.
"And really, if there was one man I could wish dead it would be him. One of my
spies once tailed a client of his and ended up rescuing a prostitute from being
killed by said client, it was just one of his many illicit offered services."
Korrin spat, her nose wrinkling in disgust while she debates drinking the wine.
Korrin had her half sister watch Lysa; Ana never sent a raven much too
paranoid, instead she kept a list that she handed to Korrin in person. Korrin's
protective nature flared when she first heard the threats against Lord Arryn,
it flared again when she heard Baelish may be involved.
Jon scowled, he rose already forgetting about the wine and the reports, he
needed to deal with Lysa. How could Lysa allow their son, their only son near
Littlefinger and his establishments?! She had begged him to give Baelish a
position in court, originally he had been impressed with how ambitious and
shrew the man was but whenever he had the chance to review expense report his
stomach sinks at how large the debt has grown in the short time Baelish took
control. Lysa had begged to return to King's Landing after she had given birth
despite the Maester's warnings. Jon knew she still loved Baelish and thought it
would be enough for her to be near him as a friend in the court. But here she
was stopping him from sending Robin to Ned or Stannis for fostering, yet she
was involving their boy in her indiscretions.
"Calm down milord, too much anger is not good for the heart. We may as well
review my repo-" Korrin didn't get a chance to finish, Gareth had returned.
"I'm sorry I took too long, Prince Tommen asked for milk for his kittens and
oh! Sir, I mean milord, would you like something for -?" The young man startled
at seeing a woman in Lord Arryn's solar, he hadn't expected anyone to visit.
"You're dismissed, Gareth."
Gareth frowned, opening his mouth to protest but there's something in Lord
Arryn's eyes that speak of something greater. Gareth nods, leaving the tray on
desk and leaves without looking at the strange woman. Korrin bolted the door
after he left and waited a while before she spoke.
"You suspected Cersei Lannister of being unfaithful and of giving birth to at
least two bastards. Both Joffrey and Myrcella have solely Lannister looks but
Tommen has the King's eyes. The book you suggested, the one by Maester Malleon
was useful. After observing the people for so long, I can tell you not all
children are exact copies of their fathers. Some traits might dominate but it
is not always true. But it is rather strange for fair hair to be so strong when
there is a dark haired parent.
"I tracked down some of Robert's bastards to confirm my theory, but you do
realize what a hard challenge that was don't you? Over a third of the women in
the kingdom claim to have lain with Robert, of thoses half claim to have his
child. Some of the children didn't fully match the requirements of black of
hair and blue of eye, some looked like their mother but just looking at them
could confirm they were Robert's. And the benefit of the mother's knowing of
Robert's birthmark cemented it. I would offer to bring them here for you to
personally confirm it but after confirming Cersei ordered the deaths of two of
Robert's bastards at the Rock, I am rather wary." Korrin said with a grimace.
She placed the wine goblet at her feet, out of sight while she dealt with
business. She had to call in a lot of favors to get people to find the bastards
with no questions asked of what she was doing and for the information not to
pass further than them. Lord Arryn looked at her with a weary expression. That
last statement alone seemed to age him.
Jon couldn't believe what he was hearing. He heard rumors but that's what they
always were rumors, they rarely held any truth to it. To hear it was true was
appalling; he pressed for further details, paling as he learned of the watery
deaths that the twins had suffered. Korrin asked if he wanted her to continue
and he nodded, taking the cold bun from his dinner tray to try an settle his
nauseous stomach.
"My father and I have confirmed at least twelve, you already know three. Those
being Mya Stone in the Eyrie, Edric Storm in the Stormlands and Bella Rivers in
the Riverlands. There are five more here in the landing as well as a whore
claiming to be pregnant with another of Robert's bastards. It's impossible to
meet her, she's one of Chataya's whores, Chataya is protective of her women.
But Thresh paid his way in and using unusual means to get her specifically. She
claims to be Robert's favorite at Chataya's establishment, always summoned to
the castle and leaving with some favor that the king had given her. We won't
actually know if it is Robert's until the birth." Korrin poked at the cooled
meat before deciding to take it, she was hungry. Between bites she continued,
"Before I took over for Father in Lannisport, I watched the oldest known boy.
He's an apprentice for a blacksmith by the name Tobho Mott, and by the seven
does he look like his father. I only saw the king twice before he got fat and
the boy could be an exact copy for him. Though he seems more like his dour
uncle than he is like his father, so perhaps his fair haired mother had a good
head on her shoulders. Very different from Robert's usual taste."
Jon smiled weakly her her poor joke, he dropped the roll back onto the tray,
folding his hands together and leaning close to ask.
"And of her infidelity?"
"Violet Hearthstone was Joanna Lannister's former maid. She works in a spa now.
Viola admitted that she had found the twins rutting like animals, they were
still young so they simply had them separated. The maid was let go not long
after the incident but from contact with her friends still working in the Rock
she believes that it only progressed after Joanna's death. Lady Joanna never
told Lord Tywin so nothing was ever done after that."
"That's not a confirmation." Jon grumbled rather annoyed. He thought it would
be better.
"You only need eyes to see how obvious they are. Even the common folk see it,
Ser Jaime is often referred to Kingslayer by the common folk as well as Sister-
Fucker if they're drunk enough. Their touches go on too long, their stares
linger, too many maids being dismissed abruptly or just disappearing, the
fondness that is far too intimate to be that of siblings. The only reason you
didn't see it sooner was because of Varys and Littlefinger intentionally
covering it up. It's for their best interest to keep it quiet."
Jon wanted to question why she didn't keep it quiet but knew if he started
questioning her loyalty, she would close up and that would not help him achieve
his own means. He already bruised her ego years ago by dismissing her over his
wife's complaints, it seems she is still rather sore about it.
"What can I do with this? Even if Robert believes me, I can't let this decision
rest in Robert's hands. I need proof to show to the council. While I do want
for Robert's true children to be his heirs, I don't want a repetition of what
happened to Elia Martell and her children. I can't forgive him again."
Korrin stiffened, she stared at her Lord with horror. She actually rose from
her seat and took steps back. She knocked down the cup in the process, the
Arbor Gold spilling onto the Myrish rug.
"You - you forgave him for killing innocent children?!" She stuttered, her
mouth open and trembling. She may have done many wicked things in her life
after leaving his service but she never harmed a child. She couldn't understand
that. "I could forgive many thing but harming a child, a child beloved by their
mother. That is unforgivable, how do you claim to have honor after condoning
that? Those children died for their father's actions, actions they had no part
of and their mother was brutally raped and killed with the gore still clinging
to the killer. And you did nothing! I always assumed you had been powerless to
do anything, because the Lord I served understood mercy and honor. Yet here I
am learning you didn't even condemn those actions, instead you reward them and
let a murderer run free.
"I can't continue this." She said through clenched teeth, her breaths came out
in heavy pants. "I'll be back in the morning to finish reporting my findings
and await my next assignment from you. Let us hope I've calmed by then."
-
She hadn't cooled down by the time she returned. But she was a
professional...if one could really be a professional in a profession like
espionage. The rest of her was quick and to the point, there was not much she
could give without bringing the bastards into the Red Keep. That was something
she was vehemently against, at least until Jon had the Lannisters and their
supporters out of the Keep. She refused to let any of them die just to prove a
point.
The next assignment he gave her was following Cersei. A hard feat since most of
Cersei's handmaidens were all Lannister supporters, politically a stupid move
but Korrin never claimed Cersei was a strong political player. Cersei could
call herself Tywin Lannister with teats all she wanted, but the woman was
stupid in not to keeping girls from other houses in her company at the very
least for information. Some of these women would reveal whatever they had to to
get a better standing.
So Korrin played servant again, more times than she could count she found the
Lannisters twins together but never in any incriminating act. She saw Cersei
talking to Pycelle twice and always leaving angry. She say how loving she was
to her oldest son and only daughter but little Tommen was kept occupied by
sweets and treated more like a pet than a son. Her weekly reports to Lord Arryn
became repetitive until one day Lord Arryn fell sick and Lysa was already
packing to leave.
Lysa did not seem the slightest bit bothered by her husband's sudden illness
and seemed to be trying to leave as quickly as she could. Only the King's
command to stay forced her to. She had just left for bed when Korrin came.
Korrin visited late that night, escorting Maester Coleman herself. Grand
Maester Pycelle was in the room with Lord Arryn.
"Maester Coleman, I have everything under control. There is no need for you to
be here as well." Pycelle said, trying to save off the man. Maester Coleman
hesitated so Korrin took that moment to speak.
With a low curtsey, she murmured, "Lady Arryn wishes for her Lord Husband to be
under Maester Coleman's care after all he was his maester for years. Who else
knows Lord Arryn better than he?"
A flash of anger crossed over Pycelle's face before he left. Maester Coleman
looked at Korrin confusion evident on his face.
"But Lady Arryn has never sent for me, why did you lie?"
"Because I don't trust a man whose loyalty is to a single house rather than the
realm as is in his oath." Korrin replied coldly, dropping the demure act. Her
gaze was focused on the feverish lord while the Maester began checking Jon, she
wet a cloth and dabbed Jon's forehead. "Milord, Maester Coleman is here. He
needs to know what you ate and drank today. We may need to check your bile if
you aren't sure."
Jon gripped her hand tightly, suddenly before croaking, "Arbor Gold."
Korrin stiffened, she looked back at Maester Coleman who didn't seem to have
heard what Lord Arryn said, for he continued through the usual checks. She was
sure she dumped the wine the same night she arrived how could he have it? Did
Lysa replace it? Or had someone simply managed to slip it some other way?
While Maester forced Jon to purge his dinner from his body to he could examine
it for any oddities, Korrin slipped out of Lord Arryn's grip and grabbed the
silver chalice from her pack as the wine from the desk.
"Now is not a time for a drink!" Maester Coleman chastised her. She shoots her
head, ignoring him for the most part. She kept her gaze eyes the silver. Her
frown deepened as she saw the silver begin to tarnish. Hm, it actually worked,
she had her doubts but now she saw it was true.
"Look, Maester Coleman." She spoke, handing the chalice to him. The maester
look at her with a confused glance.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"In Essos, they use silver to detect poisons, if it tarnishes there is poison.
See? The silver is tarnished, he has been poisoned. Now fix him!" She barked,
determination blazing in her eyes. She turned to Lord Arryn said whispered in
his ear. "Either your wife knowingly poisoned you or she is Littlefinger's
pawn, whichever it is the goal was to have you dead. I will ask you now, you
didn't share details of our meeting with anyone did you?"
Jon shook his head weakly, before speaking with a raspy voice. He was growing
dizzy and tired as his fever climbed. "Letter on the...desk. Take it and Robin
to-" He coughed, blood coloring his saliva. Korrin turned to the maester
worried, he had removed Jon's shirt and laid leeches on his body. She turned
back cleaning the blood off Lord Arryn's mouth. Jon continued as if he hadn't
been interrupted. "Take Robin to Ned, away from Lysa...we'll follow after...I
recover."
Korrin pulled away from the lord, she saw the letter on the desk, his personal
house seal on it as well as that of the Hand. She tucked it into her bag, and
excused herself quickly. Maester Coleman stared after her, he had heard the
last part of Lord Arryn's speech.
"Are you sure you are making the right choice, milord?"
-
Taking Sweetrobin from his mother was a horrible experience. While she snuck in
pretty easily, even slipping milk of the poppy into Lysa's mouth had been easy,
getting the boy off his mother's test without wakening him was impossible. The
boy began wailing but Korrin quickly covered his mouth with her hand. Lysa
shifted next to them but didn't wake. He tried kicking her, even managed to
land a blow to her stomach. Korrin was quickly reconsidering her harm no
children rule, Sweetrobin would be well worth the exception.
"Stay quiet or your mother will never wake up again. That means no more milk."
Korrin hissed. The boy glared at her through watery eyes, he seemed more
angered by the thought of never having breast milk than losing his mother.
Quick as a snake she removed her hand, slipping a small vial of poppy milk into
his mouth. The boy tried to hit her again but his limbs grew sluggish as the
medicine slowed his body.
Korrin wrapped Sweetrobin in a cloak, she paused there was a letter on the desk
but it looked like it was written in gibberish. She glanced back at the
sleeping woman before deciding to take it with her. She had to be quick, this
late at night there wouldn't be any ships leaving but at the very least she
could buy passage for the two of them. With every step she took, she could feel
pain from the sharp kicks Sweetrobin managed to land on her.
The air stung her cheek as she hurried through the keep as fast as she could
without drawing much attention to her. She slowed as she passed the guards,
giving them a sheepish smile and nodding at the covered Sweetrobin. The men
shook their heads amused before letting them pass, never once thinking of who
they let pass. She hurried to Ana's house, her sweet paranoid sister was always
prepared for travelling to different areas. Korrin took the bags prepared for
Northern travel as well as some provisions before leaving money on the table.
Her sister would understand her abrupt departure.
Now hours later as day was breaking and the ship was leaving for White Harbor,
Sweetrobin stirred, his hands searching for someone that wasn't there. She
should feel guilty or remorseful but staring at the whimpering boy left her
empty. He would need to adapt for their journey would be a few weeks, even a
month depending on the weather and there was no milk here for him. Korrin groan
as she realized what a terrible burden she under took.
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