Chapter 13: A Crow and A Prince
Jon Snow
The young boy looked at the older man; he stood motionless for several seconds, pondering what the old man said to him.
Young Prince!? Jon repeated the words on his head, looking back at the old man in the tree, his left eye gone, a red eye staring back at Jon, shining like blood, his other eye gone, a white rot grew from his eye socket, down his cheek.
He must be sad, Jon thought, his eye lingering at the roots around his chest, not letting him move, only breath and darkness all around him. How could someone even live like that, not being able to move, not being able to see the outside world, not being free?
"How are you tightened to a tree?" Jon asked, finding his voice to speak to the old man. A chuckle escaped from his mouth.
"This is how I live, young prince, for many years I have lived, breath like this, not being able to feel anything," He spoke with a low tone, almost whispering to Jon, his voice sounding hoarse, making the young boy think of when was his last time speaking with anyone.
"It must feel lonely," Jon said, sitting down on a root under him, near the old man; Jon wondered if he had died. Is this the seven hells, an old man in a Tree?!
"It can feel lonely, but I'm not as alone as you might think, young prince; despite not moving, I can still see and feel the world out there; the beauty hadn't changed, despite being a century," the man spoke, his blood eye looking down at the boy.
Brynden didn't need his knowledge to see Targaryen features on his face; his face was more Targaryen than Stark, which filled his heart with happiness in a way.
"Young Prince?! Why do you keep calling me that? I'm only a bastard," Jon said, standing up, his voice gloomy at the end. He hated the word despite knowing that it was true; he was a bastard, that's all he was.
"Do you feel like a bastard?" The old man asked; Jon kept quiet, not knowing how to answer that; he felt normal; he didn't think he felt different than a True Born.
Before the young bastard could answer, Brynden continued. "Prince, Bastards, Kings, Queen, these are names created by men; they have worth because we believe in the value of these words; you might call yourself a bastard, I might call you a prince, but all I see is a boy wishing he had a chance to make his own destiny, to be a Dragon," The old man said with a glint on his red eye, his blood eye looking back at Jon.
Jon felt guilt; he was a bastard; he shouldn't want more than he had; Jon knew that! Why?
But Jon knew he wanted more than he had; he wanted to become more; he didn't want to die a bastard; he wanted to see the world out there, fly like a bird or a Dragon.
Jon wished he was like Robb, Trueborn with a name, to have worth in this world. To not be looked down, he hated the eyes looking at him as if he was dirt in their boots as if he was nothing.
"I don't want more. I have more than enough. I have my brothers..." "Who one day will marry and have their own children while you die alone and forgotten," Brynden countered harshly at the young prince.
Jon shook his head despite deep down knowing that was true; his brothers were true born, they would grow up to be lords, knights have their own children, while the best he could hope was The Night's Watch, where he would grow old and forgotten, no one would remember him, no one would ever say his name after his death, No one will remember my Name...
"Arya, she will never" "She never. What?" Brynden stopped him before he could continue, giving the young prince a sharp look.
"Arya will marry a lord and have her own children; trust me, in this world, your siblings are just friends who will one day forget you, just like your own Father," Brynden said, his voice relatively low at the end.
Jon tried to walk away from him; this was not true; he didn't want to live like that; he didn't want to live and die, achieving nothing.
Looking at the darkness, the boy with the bastard's name suddenly felt a pain on his forehead, as if something was poking his forehead with a beak—a crow cry ringed in his ears.
Jon fell to his knees; his eyes rolled at the top of his head; many images flew through his head like flipping the pages of a book very fast; he couldn't make out what he saw before a voice screamed in his head.
"Blood Traitor"
A man screamed before everything burned green.
BLoooddd TraitTtor
Falling on the grass, Jon felt his breath burning in his throat like fire, his chest trying to fill with air, his body feeling tired, almost exhausted, his forehead not hurting anymore before his eyes turned to look at the only visible thing in the darkness. The old man had a small smile on his face for the first time. Jon could see a pleasant glint on his blood eye.
Brynden knew the worth that came from something else other than a name; look at House Baratheon, for example, their house comes from a Targaryen bastard; it was all about who had the power; once you had it, the reality could be whatever you want it to be, as would the history, be the winner and the history could be changed however you want it. Brynden remembered a beautiful silver ghost, her lips tasting like strawberry, her smooth skin, her beauty unmatched.
"Congratulations, young prince, it seems the time has come for you to wake up," The old man spoke, his voice hoarse.
"Wake up?" Jon repeated the words in confusion before trying to stand up on his knees.
"Is this a Dream?"
"You have connected to the Weirwood tree, my boy; the trees have seen far more than anyone can ever hope, my boy, they have seen the past, the present, and they will see the future we will never see," Brynden said before closing his blood eye.
"Once you wake up, you shall see things more clearly. We will meet again once you are ready," Brynden said.
Jon suddenly felt lightheaded; everything was dizzy before the ground came at him.
Arya Stark
It had been weeks now, but Jon wasn't waking up; the little girl thought that maybe her mother had told him something that made him angry; Arya, despite being young, knew her mother sometimes said things that made Jon sad. The word that Jon hated, while Arya didn't understand what the word meant, she knew it meant something terrible if it caused Jon so much pain and sadness.
She had cried, calling out for Jon, not knowing why he wasn't coming to play with her anymore. Until one day, Robb told her that Jon was sick; the following day, Arya had thrown a tantrum at the Main Hall, wanting to see her brother, so she could make him feel well again.
"You won't be near the bastard Arya; you could get sick too," Her mother hissed with venom in her tone.
Now, Arya was resting her head on Jon's bed, wanting to stay close to Jon, who was sleeping very quietly, Robb had helped her to see Jon finally, but Arya felt her eyes crying tears, his face was pale, his smile was now No more, replaced with coldness, his body felt almost like ice on her skin, not Warm anymore.
"Arya, we need to leave now," Robb suddenly said as she cried on his chest, her tears wetting his shirt.
She wanted to hear him sing again; she wanted to play with him; she wanted to see his eyes again; why did the old gods need to take Jon? Why?? Why??
Arya didn't bulge despite Robb trying to move her away, his arms on her waist trying to take her away; Arya tried to fight back, not wanting to leave Jon when he needed her the most; what sister was she if she left him alone Now?!
"A-Ar-Arya,"
The girl kept her eyes closed; this was a dream before immediately opening them, seeing Jon's dark eyes looking back at her, a smile looking back at her as well, his skin not cold anymore.
"J-Jon," she whispered, rubbing her eyes from crying, the tears burning on her cheek, more tears threatening to fall from her swollen eyes.
"Hey," Jon simply said with a grin before both Arya and Robb threw themselves at him, crying like never before.
"Stupid, Stupid, Stupid," Arya repeatedly said against his chest, her cries muffled from his shirt; Robb felt relieved as if something heavy just lifted off his shoulder, his chest not hurting anymore.
Pulling away, they looked at Jon again, almost wanting to make sure he was truly still alive, and they weren't just dreaming.
"What Happened?"
Jon asked, feeling light as if he could just spread his arms and fly away; Robb started explaining that he had been sick from the Pox; after the explanation was done, Jon stood silent, processing the information in his head.
His ears suddenly heard a bird's cry, tick, tick, tick, and the sound of something hitting the glass echoed inside the infirmary. Turning towards the only window, the blue bird that he had seen drinking water was standing against the glass, poking the glass with her beak, looking back at Jon.
Robb was confused about why the bird wanted to fly inside. Usually, birds flew away the moment anything larger than them was nearby. His brother didn't say anything, but Robb walked over to the window, fully expecting the bird to fly away, but instead, the bird stood still, not afraid, almost waiting for him to open the window.
Opening the window, the bird flew inside like an arrow; Robb didn't even see it before looking back at Jon and seeing the bird resting on Jon's left shoulder, not scared, which baffled Robb; why was this bird in particular so friendly with Jon.
"Is he your bird Jon?" Arya asked in excitement.
The bastard boy smiled before rubbing his fingers against her blue neck; the bird clearly enjoyed it.
Arya had a bright smile, approaching slightly like a hunter, wanting to touch the beautiful bird, but this time the bird was reluctant against Arya; her purple eye looked at Jon as if it to see if it was safe; the bastard boy nodded, it seemed the bird understood what Jon meant, this time allowing Arya to touch her.
"Who is this bird?" Robb finally asked with a louder tone than he had wanted; he hadn't noticed Jon being friendly with any bird or giving food; maybe he had just missed it!
Surprisingly the bird chirped at him, leaving out an angry sound, even stretching out her wings towards Robb, looking larger; this earned a laugh from Jon and Arya, while Robb looked even more confused, could this bird somehow understand what he was saying.
After the laughter ended, Jon touched her little head, which seemed to calm the bird down, who turned his attention back to Jon.
"Her name is Kessa, and she is a blue eagle of the North," Jon informed them, much to the surprise of both Arya and Robb, especially Robb, who couldn't hold himself from gasping; Arya, on the other hand, didn't understand what that meant.
"H-How, they only live beyond the Wall; there hadn't been one this side of the wall since King Arthur Stark," Robb said, almost shouting, finally comprehending just what his brother just said.
"Not only that, but I have read they grew the size of horses," Robb added; the blue eagle didn't look big; the only visible sign that it wasn't a usual bird was her beak, while the usual birds had small beaks, this one had a larger beak, not mentioning the pointy end like a knife.
"I don't know how she came here, but she is my friend now," Jon said with a serious tone, his face looking different; Robb didn't know why but even his eyes looked different. Somehow a shade of violet was on them, but not that subtle that one could hardly notice it.
Robb tried to ask where the eagle came from, but Jon purposely gave half-answers, not mentioning anything about his dreams, about the man in the tree.
Soon, Maester Luwin walked inside, followed by no one else but Catelyn Tully; it seems the Maester had been busy talking with Lady Catelyn.
Walking inside, the moment his old eyes saw Jon awake, he immediately made his way toward the young boy, not hiding the smile on his face.
"How are you feeling, my boy?" He asked straight away, checking on him; his fever was gone, and his skin color had somehow returned, no longer cold but warm at the touch.
Jon said he was feeling better; the maester soon prepared something before adding water to a cup, nudging Jon to drink it.
While this happened, Lady Stark felt her eyes frozen on the boy who was at the death's doorstep just a few moments ago; her eyes didn't even see the eagle looking furiously at her, almost wanting to rip her eyes out from her eye sockets.
He's alive? She thought, unsure how to feel about this, it had been so close, but the false old gods saved the bastard.
Catelyn said nothing but left the chamber, reaching the septa, praying to the seven gods, praying to them to protect her family from anyone who desired to harm them.
Ned Stark - Two Months Later
The lord of Winterfell felt relieved to see Winterfell slowly appearing in the distance, the castle standing strong just as he remembered, snow was gently falling, only a feet deep, while to some this was cold, to a northern this was summer. The people had gathered to greet the return of their lord; Ned was riding in front of his men, keeping his chest and chin high, looking like a proper lord.
After the rebellion ended, Benjen had soon left to return to his home, promising to visit once his child and heir was born.
Behind Ned, surrounded by several of his men, was Theon Greyjoy riding on a horse of his own; one of his men suggested using rope to make sure he didn't try to ride away, but Ned disagreed with the suggestion.
Surprisingly Theon wasn't looking down as Ned had expected, but keeping his head high, as if he was here for holiday instead of being a hostage so his father would not try anything anymore.
Ned had no desire to treat him like one, he would treat him no different from everyone else, but as Ned thought that maybe Robb and Jon could have a new friend, his mind stopped on his nephew.
After seeing the King again, and the crown Prince, Ned knew it had been foolish of him to think that no one from the Royal Family would recognize Jon as a Targaryen. Hell, after looking at the crown Prince a few more times, he could see his similarities with Jon; they were subtle, but they were there, but the most alarming was Jon's similarity with King Rhaegar of all people.
Ned, of course, had never seen the king when he was around Jon's age, but he highly expected now that the King looked like Jon but with silver hair and purple eyes, minus the curly hair.
Ned knew if anyone from the royal family except for the children would immediately recognize Jon, especially Queen Rhaella; Ned dreaded that moment, someone like her wouldn't even need a second look, only one good glance and she would see through Ned's lies and burn them to ash like a dragon along with him.
Ned pondered through the whole journey back to Winterfell on what he should do; in a way, he wanted for Jon to be recognized, for this constant dread, guilt feeling to fall from his chest, for his nephew to live with his family, but I'm his family as well, Right?? Ned asked himself, not finding an answer, but Ned knew the moment the secret was revealed, his head would be on a spike or thrown for maggots to feast on him, what if Rhaegar won't be satisfied with just my head? What if he sends any of my boys to the wall or forces either Arya or Sansa to marry someone of their loyal houses against their wishes??? They would be treated horribly.
So many different scenarios and all of them could happen; Ned felt as if the weight of the whole Winterfell was on his shoulder, ready to crush him down, to be trampled like an insect.
As they reached the gates of Winterfell, Ned glanced behind him to see Howland Reed right behind him, his face unreadable; his friend had kind of demanded to visit Winterfell with him; he wanted to see how Jon was, not that Ned could blame him, he himself wanted to see how his son was.
Your nephew, you mean?
"Open The Gates" one soldier shouted; the heavy gates of Winterfell opened for him, leading him inside Winterfell to the courtyard. Slowly riding inside, Ned started recognizing many of the faces.
He left a sigh of relief; he was finally home to his family, to his children and wife.
A smile erupted on Ned's face when his eyes saw his family waiting for him; behind them standing soldiers and servants, Maester Luwin standing close to his Wife.
Ned soon saw Robb, his boy hadn't changed much, but he looked taller than he remembered; his crimson hair was more distinct now than he remembered.
Sansa straightened up the moment their eyes made contact, a smile on her little face, happy to see her father back.
His brown eyes then noticed little Arya standing close to Sansa but holding the hand of someone; when Ned's eyes moved up to check whose hand she was holding, his breath almost stuck in his throat.
Jon?! He thought, he looked so much different than he remembered; how did he change so much within nine months?!
His hair had grown to shoulder level; they were curly and somehow made his face more apparent; his clothes were different; Ned had never seen that set of clothes before; they looked made out of skin.
Ned wondered who made them for him, but then as he got closer, a cry was heard above them; Ned didn't know why but for a moment, he was scared that the dragons had returned, somehow, but from the sky came flying an eagle, landing directly on Jon's shoulder, despite her sharp claws, she was extra careful not to hurt Jon's shoulder.
Her claws now were sharp enough that cut through the skin of her prey like a knife through butter. At first, Lady Trout had tried to take her away, but the eagle would always fly away very fast before any soldier could do anything, and now she returned to the castle only when Jon was outside.
Ned felt his eyes linger on the eagle resting on Jon's shoulder; he didn't know what to say; he had never seen an eagle like that one; hearing a gasp, he glanced behind to see Howland looking at Jon with widened eyes, not believing his eyes. Ned thought of asking his friend to explain if he knew what kind of Eagle that was but dismissed the idea; he would find out soon enough.
Soon Ned dismounted his horse before walking over to Catelyn.
"My lord husband, welcome back home," Catelyn said with a smile; they hugged, missing the feeling of having each other close, kissing her cheek; Ned pulled away from her.
"I hope everything had gone well when I wasn't here, my lady," Ned said, followed by a nod from Cat.
He greeted Maester Luwin, who greeted him back with a short bow of his head.
Moving to Robb, he hugged his son tightly; Robb returned the hug, but not crying; he was the heir of Winterfell after all.
Sansa cried when they shared the hug, and so did Arya, who went flying into his arms like an arrow.
"I missed you," Arya cried against his chest.
But when it came to Jon, Ned was surprised to see the boy hug him, but not with the same strength or love that he did before he had left. Something has happened?!
Ned thought before pulling away, his eyes only now noticing the new violet shade on his grey eyes, it was distinct, but looking closely, they did have a shade of violet.
Ned felt himself wanting to swallow a nervous breath all over again. If he had paid attention, Ned would notice the eagle looking at him with angry eyes, as if he was an enemy, and she was ready to protect Jon if he commanded her to attack.
Jon Snow
After leaving the courtyard, his father told them about Theon Greyjoy, not that the bastard boy paid him much attention.
Jon made his way inside, but not before telling Kessa to fly away and hunt.
It had been two months since he survived the Pox; Maester Luwin had stated it was a miracle; he had never seen someone survive a sickness after being so close to death.
After a week of resting, Jon wasted no time and had started training his Warging.
After finding books in the library that talked about the North before the Conquest, one of the things mentioned there was also Warging. While it was listed as only a myth, Jon knew it wasn't a myth.
The ability to look into the eyes of an animal, not knowing how Jon knew there was more to Warging.
Therefore he had started Warging; at first, he dreamed of flying around like Kessa, until five weeks ago, he could warg her during the day, but her liking Jon made it much easier. She never tried to push Jon away, which wouldn't be the case with any other animal.
That left the door open to be able to warg even animals that weren't exactly familiar with you; Jon had started with a small cat, succeeding only yesterday.
Now, next was a dog; after that, he would move to birds, and other animals, until he saw himself as a Master of Warging; after all, Brynden told him he needed to train if he wanted to know the truth.
"Once you become a master, I will reveal a truth that your father has kept secret from you."
Jon didn't need to ask to know what this secret was, he knew it, but his only question was...
"How do you know that secret? Why can't you tell me now??"
"Everything with time, my boy, if it weren't for me, you would be ten feet deep in the ground, so I ask you to trust me,"
Jon wanted to say more; he wanted to know who his mother was. Was she someone important that he needed to wait for the truth?! Jon had said nothing but decided to trust the old man; if it weren't for him, he wouldn't be alive and probably never knew anything about Warging.
Making his way to his bedchamber, Jon wasted no time and started reading High Valyrian; while The Library of Winterfell didn't have the best book about High Valyrian Language, it was still better than nothing.
The old man had given him a list of things he needed to do, master his Warging, learn High Valyrian, and be a great Warrior.
Jon found the language quite easy to understand and write, to the point that Maester Luwin told him that if he continued like this, within a year, he would be able to write and speak High Valyrian.
That, of course, upset the Lady Trout, but Jon found himself not caring anymore what the trout thought of him, not that it really mattered what she thought; Jon didn't try to hide that he was better at Learning and Sword fighting than her precious Trueborn son, the only thing Robb could beat him was brute force, but Jon surpassed him with his speed and agility.
Jon kept reading and writing notes on High Valyrian in his bedchamber; he found it relaxing and much easier than reading in Library; suddenly, a sound reached his ears from the Window; looking at the window, Kessa was using her beak to hit the glass! On her claws was something she had caught; Jon moved the books to his bed before walking over to the window; opening it, Kessa flew inside before throwing the dead prey on the stone floor.
Jon was looking at her curiously as she was using her beak to move it closer to him; she looked up to him before looking at the prey, again at Jon and again at the prey.
The boy's eyes widened slightly, knowing Kessa wanted to share the prey with him; that was a sign that the animal considered him part of the group, part of the family.
Jon pat her head, and she made a sound showing that she enjoyed the attention; Jon decided to cut half of it with a knife. Later he told the cooks to cook it for him.
With that, Jon was eating with Kessa in his bedchamber.
Ned Stark
It has been only an hour since he arrived back in Winterfell, only now Maester Luwin was telling him of Jon apparently having the Pox and almost dying.
Ned had almost rushed to check on the boy when the Maester told him that Jon had the pox; Ned sighed in relief when the maester said to him that Jon was able to survive.
Ned would never forgive himself if Jon died, especially if Winterfell not having the best medication could have caused it.
Now, he was sitting in his solar, a desk in front of him, reading through papers, Maester Luwin was informing him of everything that happened while he was gone, Cat was looking outside through a window which showed a view of one of the ruined towers of Winterfell.
"He suddenly was better, my lord. I don't know how he got better. I was even preparing to send you a letter about Jon... When the boy was suddenly alright as if nothing had happened, it is a miracle," Maester Luwin explained smiling; Ned had to agree with him; while he hadn't been here to check on Jon's health, he trusted the old Maester's words.
But he didn't need to be smart to know that if Cat's grimace on her face was anything to go by, then she clearly wasn't happy. Ned quickly threw that idea away from his head; he knew Cat didn't love Jon, but wanting a child to die was something else entirely; he highly doubted that Cat had fallen that low?
"How is their studying going?" Ned asked, noticing Cat's body shifting slightly, a frown on her face.
Maester Luwin cleared his throat before showing him two papers; it was written with detailed information about how far Jon and Robb had gone, History, Houses of Westeros, Economy, and many other things. Still, Ned was baffled to see how further Jon had apparently gone compared to Robb.
He read through the reports; Robb had been caught three times trying to copy from Jon's letter, a chuckle escaped Ned's mouth at the thought, already imagining it himself.
As he read through the paper, Ned stopped dead on track when he read something he really wasn't expecting.
"M-Maester Luwin! What's this??" Ned asked with a low tone before gesturing with a finger at the maester what he was talking about. The maester leaned forward to get a better look, squinting his eyes.
"Ahh, yes, Jon has also started learning Valyrian since he woke up. I have to be honest; he's quite good at it; I have been a maester for many decades, my lord but never seen someone at Jon's level before," Maester said with clear pride in his voice, as if he was talking about his own flesh and blood, but not noticing the pale face of Ned who suddenly felt as if the Wall itself was on top of him, falling back against the head of the chair, suddenly feeling heavy...
Valyrian?! Why would he ever be interested in Valyrian? It makes no sense, Ned thought in alarm; cold sweat started forming on his forehead.
Ned took a huge breath, hoping that it would calm him down; putting his hands in front of his face, whipping away the sweat, he released a huge breath before looking at the Maester, who had stopped talking after noticing Lord Stark's unusual behavior.
"Lord Stark, is everything alright?" Maester Luwin asked, but Ned barely heard him; all he could think of was Jon when the boy had first started showing signs of knowing how to sing, it was the first thing that connected him to his true father but still could be easily overlooked, but this... this was a different matter.
"He's my son. His name is"... oh Lyanna, just what should I do?! Ned asked himself, remembering the true name of Jon Snow.
He had called him Jon for so long that Ned sometimes forgot that Jon wasn't his true name but instead the name of a bastard.
His real name being... "Lord Stark"
Ned escaped his thoughts when he heard the shouting; turning to his left, his brown eyes saw Maester Luwin looking back at him with concern on his face.
"What?"
"I have been calling you Lord Stark for minutes. Should I leave, maybe you need rest," Maester Luwin suggested with concern.
Ned shook his head in denial; that wasn't necessary. Instead, he wanted to know everything that happened while he was gone.
Maester Luwin reluctantly started explaining everything; from beginning to end, Ned understood that since he woke up, Jon had apparently started being more distant but only towards Catelyn and bit towards Sansa. He was the same when it came to Robb and Arya.
Maester Luwin told him of Kessa, Jon's Blue Eagle, or as some knew it, the Eagle of Winter; due to its size, blue and white colors, almost the size of a horse, was very resistant to the cold.
Ned wondered what an eagle-like her was doing so far south; while Winterfell was North, compared to Beyond The Wall, they were South.
Maester didn't know how the eagle came here or how Jon knew her, but at this point, everyone accepted that it was Jon's eagle and didn't try to attack anyone.
"Ned, we should kill that eagle as soon as possible," Catelyn interjected, looking at her husband; the maester left out a tired sigh but didn't try to be part of the conversation.
Turning to Cat, Ned cocked an eyebrow. "Why? The eagle hasn't tried to attack anyone; if Jon says that she is safe to keep around, then I'm not going to kill her or push her away," Ned said, already making up his mind on that matter.
Catelyn's face turned slightly red from anger, "How can you know this?! It is a Wild Animal; who knows what it Is Thinking? What will you do if once it fully grows, it starts attacking people, starts attacking your True Born Children" Catelyn pleaded, knowing the danger that eagle could bring to her children.
Ned thought of it; closing his eyes, he was ready to deny any danger; he knew Jon would never keep her around if she were dangerous to anyone, but Maester Luwin talked first.
"I'm sorry for interrupting Lord Stark, but Lady Stark, I have seen that eagle, and we have books of every animal in Citadel. We have seen her with Jon; she's been hostile only if anyone threatens Jon himself," Maester Luwin explained.
Ned fully agreed with it; Catelyn looked ready to say something else when Ned raised his hand to stop her from talking.
"No, Catelyn, we are not doing anything to that eagle; if she shows being hostile to anyone, I will order my archers to shoot her down with arrows but not doing anything unless she's hostile," Ned said with a firm tone.
If possible, Catelyn's face turned red, her body shifting uncomfortably, but a knock on the door stopped everything.
"Come in," Ned ordered after turning his body, facing the door.
The door opened, revealing Ser Rodrik Cassel, who walked inside, a breeze of cold flowing inside as he closed the door behind him.
Turning to his lord, he bowed respectfully before addressing his reason for coming here.
"My lord, you wanted a report on your son's progress in Sword fighting," he said; Ned nodded for him to continue.
Ser Rodrik started explaining everything to his lord, every bit of progress; while Robb hadn't really progressed much, his skill with swords was very good nonetheless.
Ned felt pride on his chest as Ser Rodrik told him how far his son had gone; after he finished, he waited for him to continue with Jon.
Before starting, Ned noticed Ser Rodrik giving Cat a side glance before putting his full focus on his Lord.
Ser Rodrik started explaining how Jon's progress had doubled if not tripled since he was cured of the Pox; his speed and his way of moving with his sword made it hard to counter, even beating children who were older than him.
Ned just listened, smiling, happy that Jon was making progress as well, but he didn't miss the red face of Catelyn as Ser Rodrik was basically singing praises for Jon, someone who in her eyes was less than dirt below her feet, someone who could never hope to beat a True Born.
After the report ended, Ned stood silent for several seconds before talking.
"Ser Rodrik, gather Jon and Robb in the training yard. I want to see them myself," Ned ordered his men, who nodded before leaving the solar.
Soon, Maester Luwin left as well; Ned waited for the shouting to come the moment the door was closed.
And just as he predicted, the moment the door clicked...
"He's Doing it," Catelyn started with a somehow low voice; hearing her voice alone, one would think she was calm, but her face showed that wasn't the case.
Ned opened his mouth to deny it...
"He's Doing IT; He's making Robb look bad Every Chance he gets. He's Making Our Son, Look Bad In front of EVERYONE," she shouted at the end, not being able to handle it anymore. Why couldn't her husband see that the bastard was doing this on purpose.
Ned stood up, fully turning to her, causing her to take a step back from him, almost in fear.
"Jon is not doing anything; he's not like that; even if he were, lords of the North would never accept him," He said as calmly as he could to her; this was getting annoying.
Catelyn just shook her head to him, ready to counter him, when the door opened again, revealing Ser Rodrik, who for once didn't knock.
"My lord, I'm sorry, but we can't find Jon Snow."
Jon Snow
After feeding Kessa, Jon left his bedchamber, making his way to the Weirwood tree of Winterfell.
Knowing it made it easier to Warg whenever he made contact with the tree; while he could warg just as well without being close to a Weirwood tree, it was still less exhausting.
Jon felt the snow crumble below his feet, his dark clothes quite noticeable, the snow making a small layer of snow on top of his hair.
Reaching the tree, he removed the glove of his right hand, touching the tree; his eyes moved at the top of his head.
Again images flew by very fast, but one of them stood longer than the others; it was the image of a man lying against a rock, a wound on his chest, bleeding alone to death, as his eyes slowly died.
Jon could barely see his face, his lips turning blue, as so was his face, his skin turning blue like ice.
"Blood Traitor"
Jon gasped suddenly back at the Godswood; looking around, he tried to understand who the man was when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him.
Turning around, he saw a man smiling; despite being a grown man, Jon noticed that he wasn't that tall compared to his father.
"I'm sorry for interrupting," the man said.
"No, you didn't interrupt anything, Lord?"
"My name is Howland Reed."
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