04 - Hard truths

"What, then, are you supposed to be?" Ethel asked, curious.

The tree took a moment to respond, as if struggling to find the right words. "We are messengers of the gods, created from sacrifices and magic to guide mortals. But that was a long time ago. In this era, the few believers left cannot kindle the embers necessary to restore us to our former lost splendor."

Ethel pondered its words. In the series, the old gods, the Children of the Forest, and the First Men were sometimes mentioned, but he didn't have much information about them. "I understand. Now that these sacrificial practices are no longer carried out and most people believe in other deities like the Seven, the Faceless God, or R'hllor, you have been forgotten."

"Your words are harsh but true. There are very few Children of the Forest left, and those who still maintain their faith are here, in the North, but they are too few. Even the Starks can no longer communicate with us as they once did. Many of them can't even become wargs anymore. But the awakening of the Other, the one who will plunge the world into darkness, is drawing ever nearer. That moment will come, and you must be more prepared than ever for the great war that is approaching," responded the heart tree solemnly.

"We will be prepared," said Ethel, confidently.

The tree remained silent, reflecting on the young man's words before replying. "I sense your strength. Perhaps you can indeed stop the Great Other once and for all. I don't know where you come from, but I hope you remain on the side of the light. For tonight, that is enough talk. We will continue another time," it finished, as it withdrew from Ethel's consciousness.

Ethel stayed silent for a moment, processing the conversation. The information he had received was far deeper and more momentous than he had expected. Determined, he stood up and left the Godswood.

In the morning, everyone was in the great hall, eating together. The Starks sat around their mother, while Ethel and Jon were a bit more apart. Despite this, the siblings got along very well with each other. All of Catelyn's children considered the two as part of their family.

During these twelve years since Ned had brought the two children, many had seen how special Ethel was. Besides his intelligence, demonstrated by learning everything at a young age, there was "something" that made him different. When Ethel looked at something, it seemed he analyzed it deeply, uncovering all its secrets. This ability unsettled Catelyn. Her husband, however, was delighted with the two bastards, always talking about the great future that awaited House Stark. No matter how many arguments they had, Ned never revealed who the mother might be, leaving a thorn lodged in Catelyn's heart, a thorn that became a great barrier against the two children.

In the hall, the diners chatted animatedly. Sansa, with her characteristic elegance, talked about the latest news from the court. "They say King Robert is already planning a great feast in King's Landing to celebrate the victory over the Greyjoys. It's only a matter of time before father comes home," she commented, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Ethel, listening to the conversation, couldn't help but smile. "It's good to know he'll be back soon. I hope this war isn't long."

Jon, sitting beside him, nodded. "Yes, it will be a relief to have him back. Winterfell isn't the same without him."

Robb, the eldest of the siblings, intervened with a smile. "When father returns, maybe we can organize a small celebration here too. A tournament would be exciting."

During the meal, Ethel thought carefully about whether he should tell Catelyn the truth about his origins. Maybe that way, he thought, her treatment of Jon would improve, as he suffered much more from her disdain. Before the meal ended, the young man asked Lady Stark to speak in private. Catelyn looked at him and nodded, and while the others left the hall, they remained in their seats.

"Tell me, what do you want to talk about?" asked Catelyn, her tone curious and cautious.

Ethel sighed deeply before starting to speak. "I need to confess something. As you may have noticed, my memory is very different from others. And what I'm going to tell you now must stay between us. It's a secret you must swear not to tell anyone, not even father."

Catelyn reflected on the young man's words before nodding. "Very well, I swear to keep this secret even if it costs me my life."

"As I said, my memory is extraordinary. Since I was born, I remember everything with great clarity. I remember the face of the maid who nursed me as a child. I remember my father's face when he saw me for the first time, even his expression when he lifted me in his arms. Do you understand why I'm telling you this?"

Catelyn's face became a canvas of emotions. The greatest weight she bore in her heart was the supposed infidelity and shame Ned had brought her by arriving with the two bastards. "Are you telling me you know who your mother was?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Ethel responded quickly, without hesitation. "Not only do I know who my mother was, but I also know the identity of my father."

Hearing the last words of the 12-year-old boy who had suffered her absolute indifference all his life, Catelyn fell to the floor, tears streaming from her eyes like waterfalls. "Are you saying that Ned is not your father?" she asked, mustering all her strength to form the question with a broken voice.

Ethel approached her side and, with great care, lifted her from the floor. "That's right. Eddard Stark is not my father, at least not biologically. Although he is not my father, his blood flows through me. I will tell you the truth of what happened the day I was born." He took a moment to organize his thoughts while Catelyn sat in a chair, her hands on her head.

"Twelve years ago, I remember how Ned, bathed in blood, burst through a huge door. I was in my mother's arms next to Jon. She was very weakened, about to die, but upon seeing her brother, her eyes shone with joy. Despite her condition, she was still happy that her brother had found her and was safe."

Catelyn remained silent, listening attentively. The guilt for the twelve years of mistreatment of the two children weighed heavily on her shoulders.

The young man continued, making small pauses. "My mother, as you may have guessed, was Lyanna Stark, and my father was none other than Prince Rhaegar Targaryen," he concluded.

Catelyn's mind was in chaos. Her thoughts kept spinning around the matter. With great sorrow, she grabbed the young man's hands and, from the depths of her heart, said, "I am so sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I apologize," she finished, crying with a broken voice.

Ethel comforted her, understanding the woman's situation. "Don't worry. In your place, I would probably have acted the same way. It's not easy to accept that the most honorable man would do something like that and that you had to live with the tarnished reputation. That's why I told you this truth."

"Do you understand the consequences if this information leaks out? This must stay between us, not even Jon knows about this," said Ethel firmly.

Catelyn nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "Yes, I understand. This secret must be protected at all costs. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Ethel smiled slightly, relieved by Catelyn's response.

Catelyn, her heart still aching but filled with determination, embraced Ethel. "I will do my best to make amends for the harm I've caused," she whispered, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

Ethel returned the embrace, feeling that, for the first time, he had achieved a true understanding with the woman who had been a figure of rejection throughout his life.