Chapter 14: A Sword of A Bastard
Jon Snow
The man in front of him looked at him in a strange way, almost with longing in his eyes; the bastard couldn't help but wonder if the man was seeing someone else instead of him, maybe just my father, after all, from his height and the way he looks, he must be Howland Reed! He was with my father during Robert's rebellion, perhaps I remind him too much of him after all, only I have dark hair from his children and Arya is only one name day old, Jon thought, he could feel Kessa very close before she landed right beside him, almost acting like a guard, her wings were spread, her legs standing on the tip of her claws, making her look almost as large as a horse, leave it two years. She should be as big as a Horse; Jon couldn't help but wonder if she would be able to carry his size when she fully grows.
"I'm sorry for interrupting," the man apologized.
"No, you didn't interrupt anything, Lord?"
"My name is Howland Reed."
Confirming Jon's suspicion, is he here to pray? Maybe that's just it; Father always said from the Northern houses, House Reed were amongst the most who prayed and held all northern traditions, but if that's the case, why is he here now?! Usually, people pray at dawn or in the morning.
Knowing that it wouldn't hurt to ask, Jon straightened up to show more compelling towards the lord, holding his chin and chest high, his eyes looking directly at the lord, firmly like a rock against waves smashing on it.
"What can I do for you, Lord Reed?" Jon asked respectfully, taking a step forward from the Weirwood tree, his hand petting Kessa who quite enjoyed Jon's attention, especially when he touched her face around her eyes, but she still kept her focus on the new man in front of them. In her eyes, he was a possible threat to her owner.
Howland didn't answer for several seconds, completely lost; he knew Jon would grow up to be like Lyanna; after all, he had seen his dark hair when he was born, but looking at him now, all grown up, almost a man. He looked identical to Lyanna in his eyes, or maybe his eyes were playing tricks; Howland didn't know. He was the spitting image of Lyanna, and if Ned's words about him being able to ride a horse like Lyanna were true...
"You can just call me Howland, Jon, no need for Lord Stuff" he finally spoke warmly towards the boy, who had no reaction besides a nod of understanding before his eyes glanced at the giant Eagle of the North; Howland saw Jon whisper something to her, he couldn't hear whatever he said due to being out of earshot, but whatever he said, caused the eagle to stop making her threatening pose towards him, she looked much more relaxed, Howland wondered if perhaps he could get closer to Jon now. Still, Kessa spread her wings again before taking the skies; Howland watched as she flew away, the snow around her wings falling down, before disappearing into the forest near Winterfell.
Looking back at the boy, he walked closer to Howland, who cleared his throat.
"I saw what you were doing, Jon. I have to be honest, I never expected to see a Warg anytime soon," Howland said with clear surprise but a hint of happiness; it seemed Lyanna's son was more special than he had first thought. Howland had tried many times throughout the years to take Jon, to foster him, but Ned's decision to raise him himself was set in stone; no matter what he said didn't work, it seemed to make Eddard more convinced to raise Jon himself.
Jon's eyes widened slightly; how could this man know about Warging? Sure most of the North still remembered Warging, especially wargs like Akami Reed, The Eleven Souls. A man who was said to be able to warg eleven different animals at the same time, even animals of the sea like fish and other creatures of the Ocean.
I shouldn't be surprised; he's most likely a Warg himself since House Reed is known for it; quickly gaining his composure, Jon nodded his head, confirming what Howland thought.
"Yes, my lord, but may I ask how do you know about Warging?" Jon couldn't help but ask; he thought maybe a man like him could give him a piece of advice; father never talked bad about Lord Reed after all.
Howland smiled at the boy before putting a hand on his shoulder, gesturing for them to sit down rather than standing, sitting down in a trunk.
"Yes, my boy. I'm a Warg just like you; tell me, where did you find that beautiful Eagle, last time I saw one was three years ago when I was at the Wall; she's quite fascinating," Howland said, looking at the sky, hoping to see her figure again before turning to look at the boy.
A chuckle escaped his lips, "Well, she found me; my lord, I first saw her drinking water months ago, when I was healed from my sickness, she came through the window," Jon explained, remembering the first time he saw Kessa, much smaller back then.
Of course, he didn't mention anything about the three-eyed raven; that wasn't really necessary and not related to their subjective.
"Sickness, what sickness?" Howland suddenly asked with a hint of worry in his voice; Jon looked fine in his eyes; perhaps it was nothing life-threatening!
Jon quickly explained how he had the pox, almost dying, at least that's what the maester said to him and everyone.
Howland clenched his teeth slightly; he didn't know the maester of Winterfell, but just the thought of Lyanna's son dying due to Ned deciding to raise him here instead of in King's Landing with his family filled him with dread.
Did the fish do something! No, it couldn't be. The pox isn't something she could have caused, Howland quickly thought.
"My lord, how much do you know about Warging?" Jon suddenly asked, wanting to change the subject.
"I know quite a lot, Jon; my house is known to be wargs; I can tell you everything and even give you a few advises," Howland said, happy to help her son in some way. It wasn't how he would like to help him but still better than nothing.
Jon quickly nodded his head in anticipation; Howland smiled before explaining everything he knew, even the three things that a Warg should never do. They were considered sins in the eyes of the old gods.
While Warging any animal, they should never feast on human flesh.
While Warging, he should never be in the act of reproduction with any animal.
Finally, he should not be inside an animal when it dies; that could result in serious damage.
Howland also told him that every time he wargs a new animal, a part of the animal goes to him; he should not warg too many animals due to the danger of completely losing himself. Akami Reed was said that he even ate raw meat and never without at least one of his animal companions.
And the final, never be inside an animal for a long time; it could result in you losing yourself inside it, becoming one with the beast.
After the explanation ended, Jon was about to ask something else when they both heard footsteps coming toward them, louder by the second, especially due to the feet deep snow everywhere around Winterfell.
Both Jon and Howland stood up when they saw Lord Stark walking towards them, his pace of walking fast, his slightly pale face was suddenly returned to normal when he saw his son, but seeing him with Howland of all people, irked him somehow, Ned didn't know why that was.
Howland was a good friend of his; they had fought together and bled together in the rebellion. Quickly taking a deep breath, he made his way over to his son.
Nephew, you mean!
Usually, he was used to Jon's face always lightning up whenever they were together or simply talked, but not this time; his face was the exact same, no difference.
Is he not happy that I left for nine months? Ned thought quickly.
"Jon, you should have told me you were here; we searched the whole castle looking for you," Ned said with annoyance in his tone, hoping his son would understand that he shouldn't run off wherever he wanted without telling anyone.
Jon simply nodded in understanding. "I see, Father, but why were you looking for me, is not the time for dinner yet?!" Jon asked with a blank tone, knowing there were still hours before the day went dark. His chin was still held high, not showing that he was intimidated.
Lord Stark was quite taken aback by his new tone; Ned had seen it when he first arrived, but now it was clear, the way Jon was standing in front of him, that wasn't how he remembered him. No, the Jon he remembered would always brood somewhere, usually talking only if someone asked him something unless it was Arya or Robb.
Remembering why they were even looking for him in the first place, Ned straightened up.
"Ser Rodrik told me about you; he has talked about you a lot Jon. I'm quite surprised by your talent in Swords; I would like to see it myself, you against Robb," Ned said with pride in his voice.
Jon managed a small smile on his face; he was happy that his father at least appreciated it, unlike ladyfish, not that her opinion mattered; Jon didn't know how he would have felt if his father would act the same way as Lady Trout, he would probably leave Winterfell.
"Thank you, Father," Jon said, smiling more brightly, looking directly at his father; Ned smiled back, happy to see the smiling face of his son back, when suddenly, his eyes looked directly at Jon's eyes. His son no longer stood in front of him; instead of Jon stood Rhaegar Targaryen, smiling at him; Ned quickly looked away, but he didn't notice the confused looks of Jon and Howland.
Seeing Rhaegar again after so many years had completely shattered the image he had built for the past six years; Ned had truly believed Jon had taken more from Lyanna rather from Rhaegar, but now, Ned knew he had been a fool; Jon just looked too much like his father, give it eight years, when he becomes a man, and everyone will be able to see it, would be impossible to hide from the Royal Family or even the Kingsguards.
Ned felt his breathing rate going up, his chest suddenly heavy with guilt.
"You alright, Father?" Jon asked, concerned; hearing his voice, Ned turned to look at him again; this time, it was Jon. Instead, it wasn't Rhaegar anymore.
Why is this happening? Ned asked himself, feeling his breathing turning back to normal.
Seeing the king has just reminded you how much Jon looks like Rhaegar. Do you really think you can hide him forever?
A voice said in his head; Ned swallowed, ignoring it; Jon was his son; he was his blood. He's my son, my blood and flesh. Ned said in his head, but he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince right now.
Ned leads Jon and Howland outside of God's Wood, ignoring what just happened to him. Jon walked forward while Ned stood beside Howland, who was silent all the time walking towards the courtyard, Ned wondered why, but at least his old friend wasn't glaring at him anymore.
Now that they were walking towards the courtyard, the lord of Winterfell decided to ask something he had been wondering since he came here.
"Jon, what can you tell me about Kessa? Where did she come from?" Ned asked quietly, his voice calm, not wanting his son to think that he was against her being around, sure she could be dangerous, but Ned believed Jon.
Arya had been quick to tell him about the Eagle of the North, her name, and how long she had been here; it had been two months now, and Ned doubted she would suddenly attack anyone unless someone decided to attack Jon.
"When I got better from the pox, she found me, and since then, we have been good friends; if I didn't know any better, I would say the old gods send her to me. A blessing perhaps," Jon said, his voice filled with warmth; she was the best friend he could have asked for.
Ned felt a shiver at the thought of the Pox. To think his son was so close to dying and him not being around to be there for him really made Ned feel even worse, his chest hurting with guilt and pain.
"You are better from the pox, right? Is it hurting anymore?" Ned asked with concern dripping from his voice as he looked at his son, who glanced at him over his shoulder.
"I'm better, Father, Maester Luwin himself said that I was no longer in danger," Jon said, easing his father's worries.
Howland quickly noticed that Jon mentioned nothing of his warg abilities; I wonder why he's not telling him, not that it matters. If Jon wanted, he could have told him, but he didn't, and I won't say anything, Howland thought.
Looking at Jon, the way he walked reminded him of Lyanna; his eyes and hair were all Lyanna. Lord Reed didn't know why but he laughed mentally at the thought; if only his eyes or hair were like his father, Ned's plan to raise him in Winterfell would have never worked.
People would have quickly noticed his resemblance to a Targaryen; word would quickly spread, and it would be a matter of time until the word reached The King's ears.
Walking out of God's Wood, they soon reached the courtyard; Howland noticed the way some of the soldiers glanced at Jon, the look as if Jon was less than dirt; Howland immediately recognized their Southern features; they were from the south, no wonder they would hate Jon, maybe Lady Stark even ordered them to always look at him like that, Howland didn't think that was something that couldn't happen.
Jon walked forward; as he walked, he held an air of power and elegance around him; if no one knew him, they would think he was the true born son of Ned Stark and not a simple bastard with no name.
Robb stood in the middle, not surprised by the way Jon was walking; the way he held himself was good news to him and Arya; he didn't brood every chance he got anymore; not only that, but he didn't try to hide how smart he was anymore, and neither his talent for Swordfighting and Singing.
Quite a few people had gathered to see Robb fighting against the Bastard of Winterfell; the reason for that was the presence of many Lords of The North, who were eager to see how good with a Sword was the son of their Lord, the boy who one day would rule Winterfell and The North, amongst them was Arya, even Sansa, Catelyn was standing close to them, holding Sansa's hand who didn't really understand what was happening, only that her brother and half-brother were going to fight. Looking down at the courtyard from a balcony. The view was clear; they could see everyone.
Jon noticed the many new faces around Winterfell; his eyes found Arya, who waved at him before mouthing 'Good Luck' to him; Jon smiled at his little sister.
His eyes then found the stern look of Catelyn Fish Tully. The hatred was evident in her eyes, as clear as day; Jon looked back at her, and a smirk grew on his face before his eyes found Robb Stark, who was patiently waiting; beside him stood Ser Rodrik, but behind stood someone else, looked older than Robb.
Must be The Greyjoy, Jon thought, not paying attention to him.
"Look at the Bastard; Robb shows everyone how Trueborn fights," Theon suddenly shouted, slapping Robb's back, who rolled his eyes; some soldiers laughed but mostly were as silent as the grave, and some lords were talking amongst each other, wondering who would win.
"I'm sure Ned has made sure his son is a good fighter," one said to another who nodded in agreement, looking down at Robb, mostly his auburn hair like a Tully.
Arya was jumping around, waiting for her brother to win; Catelyn told her to stop jumping, a lady shouldn't jump around, but Arya didn't care about that.
"Mother, Robb will win, right?" Sansa asked, looking up at her mother, who quickly nodded her head.
"Of course, sweetheart, Robb is the best student that Ser Rodrik ever had," Catelyn said, smiling down at her daughter before her eyes went to Robb, who now had a sword in his right hand. The Bastard held one sword as well; despite being sure that her son would win, she couldn't help but feel something in her chest, dread, she was afraid, many lords of The North were here, if Robb lost, he... No, The Bastard will not Win.
Ser Rodrik was standing in far enough to be able to stop them if the fight got out of hand; he was perplexed why someone like the Greyjoy was here; he should not be allowed to walk freely as if he owned the place.
But it wasn't up to Ser Rodrik to make the rules, he was a simple knight, and he followed orders, but it didn't mean that he liked them.
"Prepare to lose Jon," Robb said, but the bastard boy could clearly see the nervousness in his face and voice, not to mention the cold sweat, and add to the way he was holding the sword with his hands. He's afraid of losing, Jon thought before taking his stance, his foot firmly on the ground, the snow falling all around them.
"Ready to eat snow, Snow?" Theon exclaimed with an arrogant smirk on his face looking at Jon, who wasn't fazed by his petty comment about him.
"Bastard, Trueborn, the best man will win," Jon countered; just because many northern lords were here, it didn't mean that he would purposely lose to Robb; this was an opportunity for Jon. Show everyone, and show the fish that her Trueborn was nothing special.
Unlike Robb, who was clearly nervous, Jon was as calm as the snow around them; despite the many eyes looking at them, the bastard was calm. Way too calm.
"Start," Ser Rodrik shouted for them to start.
The first swing was hard and heavy, and Jon was waiting for it; stepping deftly to the side he quickly struck Robb across the arm and followed it up with a hit to the side while the Stark boy tried to recover from the missed strike.
Two strikes Jon moved back as he again allowed Robb to make his move, this time he parried and feinted before catching the Stark once again on his arm and side. Robb relied on his strength too much and wasn't used to quick counter attacks, Jon could almost see the disbelief on his face that he was already hit four times and hadn't managed to get a hit.
Many gasped at the way Jon was fighting, Ned especially who wondered where Jon had gotten this talent, the only ones not surprised of the way the fight was going seemed to be Ser Rodrik and Arya who was bouncing up and down.
Catelyn's face had gone pale, as white as the snow of Winterfell; she tried to calm herself, her son would win, her jaw was shaking up and down, her teeth looked ready to break. No, this is not happening, This can't be happening, she thought, full of fear now, she glanced the way the lords were looking at the fight, all of them pointing towards the bastard, she couldn't hear them but she knew they were praising the bastard instead of her trueborn son.
Now, Robb looked to pay more attention, ignoring the pain, Jon knew he was fully in control of this match now and he began to enjoy himself. He parried a hard blow to his left and feinted a return forcing the Stark boy to step backwards, as he did so, Jon was upon him, a short thrust followed by a quick arc to the right gave him his opening.
He swiftly took it, his sword hitting the Stark square in the chest, falling down; Robb felt a foot on his chest, holding him down; looking up, he saw Jon putting his sword on his neck. Robb sighed before closing his eyes; he Lost in front of the whole North.
Jon reached out his hand for him, Robb grabbed it before standing up, and the others started applauding; Robb searched for his father's face; he knew he had failed; I'm supposed to be Lord of Winterfell; how could I have lost, not only did I lose but not once did I hit Jon, Robb thought, his panic rising before his eyes found the eyes of his father.
He expected his father to frown at him but instead found him walking towards them with a bright smile, looking at Jon; his brother was smiling back.
Robb sighed in relief; his father wasn't angry at him.
Reaching their position, Ned put a hand on Jon's shoulder, who looked back at him directly, their eyes looking at one another, Jon's eyes looking at him. Ned felt his throat go dry, as dry as the deserts of Dorne. Jon's faint purple pigment on his eyes.
Looking at Jon, but he wasn't there, not his son, wasn't his son; instead, all Ned could see was just how much Jon's eyes looked like Rhaegar and Lyanna.
In front of Ned didn't stand Jon but Rhaegar Targaryen. His face, nose, and jaw looked like him now; Ned swallowed loudly, wanting this feeling to go away.
This was his son; why couldn't he see him instead of Rhaegar? Why? Ned's face paled, something Jon noticed immediately, his own bright smile slowly going away like a fire from a candle.
Jon saw his father's eyes looking everywhere but at him; before looking back at him, he knew that look; he had seen it way too many times, not the look he gave Robb, not the look he gave Sansa or Arya, not the look of love he gave them, it wasn't the same, it would never be the same.
His father suddenly avoided him, instead turning his attention to Robb, who smiled.
"You fought well, Robb," His father said, looking at Robb; he couldn't look at Jon right now. Jon closed his eyes before opening them again; his father wasn't saying anything to him; he looked at him the same way.
I'm a bastard to you as well, Jon thought before walking away, his head held down, not noticing Howland looking at him with sadness. As he walked away, he ignored Arya calling his name from behind; he didn't know where he was going and didn't care.
Where do I belong? Will someone ever look at me with love?! Why can't my father look at me the same way as Arya, Robb, and Sansa?? Jon asked himself, his cheeks burning from the tears.
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