Chapter 2: The Boy Who Would Be King - Part 1

There was no one moment where I snapped awake and realized I was not who I should be.

It was a gradual thing, a slow process that left me equal parts confused and lost before ending in equal parts terror and horror.

My earliest memory was more of a sensation. I could quite clearly remember being held aloft in a pair of arms. I could also remember being afraid

(Because this was not right, I am an adult, what is this where am I where where where)

But the emotion was...strange?

I knew I was terrified, but I didn't know why (I wasn't even sure I understood what fear was).

My eyes were no help. All I could see were colors (bright bright bright) and the barest outlines of shape. (Familiar? Where have I seen this before?)

It was so, so hard to focus. What little I can remember is murky, and half-formed thoughts would be abandoned and forgotten with the same ease as breathing. I was a baby with the attention span that implied.

Above all, the earliest memories of my life(my new life) were of staring up at a face. Long brown hair fell on both sides of an equally long face, a white skin tone with the beginnings of a beard, and the most startling pair of deep grey eyes.

On one occasion I reached for the beard with both hands and ended up poking the man in the eye

The hands supporting me moved as the man chuckled deeply.

"Excited are we? I'm your papa, Jon"

(No you aren't who are you what is this here am I who am I)

One day I would learn that those memories were formed in the first few weeks of my birth, when Eddard Stark would hold me in his hands for hours every day as we journeyed from Drone to King's Landing, through to Winterfell.

…

My arrival at Winterfell marked the slow return of my sense of self. My memories were still disjointed, and impossibly hard to comprehend, but the process became easier every day. More than that, I started to become aware of my surroundings.

I spent most of my early (aware) days in a crib, alternating between sleep and peaceful wakefulness when I wasn't being tended to by my wet nurses.

The face of Eddard Stark became a common fixture in my life, along with two others. One was that of a man, brown of hair, handsome(how do I know what that word means?) with eyes even odder than those of papa. They were a shade of light purple.

The third face I remember was that of a woman. Red hair and blue eyes, and I may have even considered her beautiful if not for the hateful sneer that twisted her face into something ugly.

"Bastard" she spat, though her voice was hardly a whisper, then she whirled around and was gone. Her visits were few and far between.

I saw her the least but she stayed in my thoughts the most because… bastard. The word was spoken with such hate that it stirred something in me. Indignation, confusion, and…recognition?

What was happening to me?

…

Someday after my second name day, I was permitted to venture out of the main keep with Alaric (the second face I remembered from my childhood). I could already walk, had learned to for well over a year ago (and what whispers it had brought, when the Lord Stark's bastard, who looked like him and had his coloring learned to walk well before his true-born son. Oh, the hate in Lady Catelyn's eyes when she looked at me on my own two feet while her son remained on his knees)

Alaric accompanied me as he always did. He never did stray from now, looking back. Always there, allay present. He held my hands when I took my first step, he picked me up when I tumbled and he corrected my broken, childish speech and helped me refine it well before Papa could try his hand ( I could tell that hurt, seeing with his own two eyes that I didn't depend on him. I could see the frustration and he felt. I hated that I felt guilty and that I didn't know why I did).

Lost in my thoughts, I almost face-planted into a puddle of mud before Alaric's hand, holding my wrist, tugged me up and righted me.

"Careful, little one" His voice was warm and deep, and so so different from the Northern burr so common in Winterfell "It would not do to get your clothes so dirty"

I grinned "Thanks Laric"

He smiled " A - la -ric

"No!" I giggled "Laric is a far better name!"

"Perhaps it is" He grinned "As you will it then"

His smile died a quick death when guardsmen in stark grey leather passed by and shot me a look of pure disdain

"Unnatural bastard"

Alaric whirled around, fury writ in his form, but instinct I didn't yet understand pushed me to grasp his hand firmly as he moved forward. He glanced down at me, lingered on my frown, and shook his head.

"Come little one" He tugged me firmly in the other direction "I find the godswood is the best place to get away from the whispers"

And he wasn't immune to them. Far from it, as Both a foreigner to Westeros and companion (protector and family) to the famous bastard of Winterfell, he was an outsider twice over, especially to the parts of the household that had accompanied Lady Stark from the Riverlands after her marriage. He would know how to deal with whispers better than anyone else in the keep.

"Perhaps it is" I tried to deepen my voice (and failed miserably) "As you will it then"

He outright laughed this time, and we made the journey to the godswood. And it was a journey, for Winterfell was a titanic keep, spanning several acres. Crossing from one end to another took a noticeable amount of time.

It was beautiful and majestic, and the fact that it wasn't the largest by a significant margin made my head hurt

"I wonder how big Harrenhall is?"

"Big. Far bigger than Winterfell. And with a horrific beauty to it. A testament to the power of dragons." Alaric responded absentmindedly, before starting and glancing down at me "Wherever did you hear of Harrenhall?"

I opened my mouth to answer, before pausing in confusion.

"I don't know"

Alaric gazed at me curiously for a moment, before shrugging it off.

"No matter" he murmured gently, but a curious lilt remained in his tone "We are here"

My mouth dropped open in wonder, for it was the most majestically beautiful thing I'd ever seen (I've seen this before!). As far as my eyes could see trees of all shapes, colors, and textures into the sky and towered over me, their branches, leaden with vibrant leaves packing together and creating a dense, gorgeous canopy. The smell of wood and roses, of untamed nature filtered into my nose, carried by the cold northern winds, and the sounds of critters and birds created a cacophony of noise unlike anything I'd heard before.

"Magnificent, is it not?" Alaric voice sounded distant to my ears, and when I nodded, my head fell heavier than it should be. My heart sped up with an excitement and apprehension I could not rightfully explain. Before I was even aware I was moving, I had already darted forward and into the woods, Alaric's exclamation sounding behind me before he rushed after me.

Wood and earth cracked underneath my feat as I leaped over branches, ducked under low-hanging branches, and had the time of my life. I laughed outlaid when I heard Alaric stumble over a particularly thick root and curse more freely than I'd heard

"Jon, wait!"

"Too slow, Laric!" I continued to giggle as I charged forward and turned around "You'll never catch me!"

"Just you - Gods!!" He cried as he tried to push a branch out of his face, only for it to rebound and smack him all the harder for it. I howled in laughter and almost got caught when he shot toward me. Adults were unfairly fast with those legs.

I bolted left coming into an open clearing and

The laughter died in my throat. A steaming pool stretched out across the clearing, and ahead of it…. White bark. Red leaves. And a titanic face carved into the massive tree.

The heart tree of Winterfell stood proud as it had for thousands of years.

Dimly, I could hear Alaric reach me and still, gaze catching what had enchanted me so "ah"

"They say the eyes carved into the old heart trees are the eyes that the old goods see through, so that they may judge all who enter their domain fairly and justly" He spoke gently "And that no man can lie in sight of a heart tree"

The eyes of the god's wood seemed to stare right at me

This wasn't right this can't be can't be can't be

"Is that true?" My voice was raspy, and my breathing had sped up. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I don't know what possessed me to ask, but I did "The last part. Can no one lie in front of a Heart tree?"

He looked at me then, and his smile, the kind smile I'd seen all my life (what life which life?) had vanished. A sheen formed in his eyes, unfocused as they were, and he spoke so quietly that I doubted he'd intended for me to hear "I've come here every day for years now. To pray to the gods for guidance, and to tell myself that I had done right by my oaths. That I had done right by you".

His gaze focused on me "And I lied every time".

I stepped back glancing towards the hear-tree(I knew what it was before Anyone had ever told me how?). Red leaves rustled on an invisible breeze

And then

I remembered everything.

My name... My first day of school. My graduation. My family.

Alaric's hand was on my shoulder, his frame behind me as he dropped to a knee, his face was twisted in panic but when he spoke, the words didn't make any sense.

I remembered everything

My favorite author. My favorite books. A Song Of Ice and Fire

Why why why why why

I remembered the end. My end

I stared up at the heart tree. It stared back, ancient and foreboding

My name was Jon Snow. And that was a lie

I tipped back my head and screamed.

....

A/N: Dun Dun Dun.... and now it begins

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Next Chapter: The Boy Who Would Be King - Part 2