8

Chapter 8: CH8 A First StepChapter Text

Author's Notes: Just want to say thank you for all the positive support I've had for this story! Please keep the comments coming! :D

Anyway onto the story...

Chapter 8 A First step

Sansa Stark

The door closed behind them and Sansa turned to her siblings and Jon, "We should listen to father, you all need to rest, tomorrow will be a big day." She didn't give any of them chance to retort, instead she grabbed Jon's arm and dragged him away.

Her mind was filled to the brim with emotions and thoughts. The spell worked...much too well. Everyone was back...but almost everyone remembered!

The rolling turmoil in her mind fueled her quick steps as she continued walking, dragging Jon behind her, the dire musings and possible eventualities rolling around her mind. These changes were too extensive, too many people potentially knew awkward truths. They'd reached a quiet corridor away from father's solar before Jon reacted and pulled his hand free from hers.

"What, Sansa? Are you going to drag me all the way across Winterfell?" Jon asked, giving her an annoyed look.

"We need to talk," Sansa started tensely, "This is not good."

"What are you talking about? We're all alive," he gestured back towards father's solar, "Father, Robb, Rickon, Arya...your mother, they're all alive. How can this not be good?" Jon asked in confusion.

Sansa frowned, obviously, some things hadn't occurred to Jon yet. She rolled her eyes, "Of course I'm ecstatic that we're all back together. My heart feels like it's going to burst. I'd...I'd forgotten what it feels like to be this happy," she emphatically smiled, letting her joy shine through for a moment before replacing her mask, "We know what's coming and we're going to prepare, but..."

"But, what?"

"So many people remember....what if it's not just Winterfell? What if this is happening everywhere?"

She watched as light appeared in Jon's eyes, before he winced at what this could possibly mean.

"Have you thought of the implications of all this? With everything that some people know...how many Houses will openly declare for House Targaryen? How many will declare for Jon Targaryen, the First of his name?" asked Sansa pointedly.

Jon paled at the question.

"King Robert's still alive. What happens when he finds out?" she continued her dark line of ruminations. "We are in a better position than before, but the Kingdoms could still descend into civil war "

Jon was grim now, his eyes alive with emotion, "It won't be as bad as before, we have- should have, too many allies now."

Sansa nodded, "Yes, but how much bloodshed can we afford, knowing what's coming?"

"Then let's hope it won't come to that," Jon retorted grimly.

Sansa pursed her lips at Jon retort. He was being optimistic, but that never helped.

"We will act first," Jon began, "We will move against our enemies," he paused and smiled ruefully, "I have a list."

Sansa looked at him for a moment before snorting in amusement, "A list."

Jon smiled back, "See I can learn new things...and I can prepare for the worst."

However she would have responded was cut off as Ser Rodrick entered the corridor they were in. He was just passing by the corridor, when he caught sight of them he stopped suddenly, before giving them a strange look. Or rather giving Jon a strange look. He entered the corridor and quietly approached them, his eyes never leaving Jon.

"Ser Rodrick, is something amiss?" Sansa asked as he neared, taking in the unsureness of their loyal Master at Arms's posture.

He didn't answer immediately, he just kept staring at Jon, "Lord Brandon told me something..." he eventually began hesitantly.

Sansa mentally kicked herself for not keeping a close eye on Bran. Gods Bran, you need to stop just blurting things out!

"...You do look like her, more than you look like Lord Stark," Ser Rodrick admitted in surprise, "I can see it now. It's in the eyes, the same daring eyes."

Jon paled again, "Look like who?"

"Lady Lyanna. She's really your mother?" Ser Rodrick asked.

Jon sighed, "Yes."

Ser Rodrick shook himself, "She really went with the Prince?" he asked in mystification.

Jon nodded.

Ser Rodrick gaped for a moment before quickly asking, "Then why didn't she tell anyone? Why didn't she tell Lord Brandon?" he accused in grief and disbelief.

Jon shook his head, "We don't know. I can't speak to that. All we know is that she was willing and she married him."

Ser Rodrick looked unhappy at the response, he just continued to stare at Jon for a moment.

"She would have been Queen..." Ser Rodrick commented idly.

Jon nodded, "Aye, she would have."

Ser Rodrick looked deep in thought staring down at the ground now. A quiet moment passed and then he looked up and nodded at Jon and Sansa, "Your Grace, Lady Sansa." He shambled off without another word, looking like the world was weighing heavily on him.

Sansa stared after Ser Rodrick, frustrated with Bran unthinking actions. She turned back to Jon, he had a surprised and pale look on his face.

She sighed and shook her head, "This is what I was talking about..."

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxx

Jon Targaryen

Jon couldn't sleep, the bed was too soft...too familiar, yet not. It disconcerted him how being back in his old bed could unnerve him. Even after taking back Winterfell, Sansa had insisted that he take father's rooms. He hadn't lain here in too many years.

To be back here now...

Jon shook the dissonance off and rose form his bed. He couldn't sleep, there was still too many things he didn't know. Sansa's speculations haunted him...and Bran telling Ser Rodrick the truth hadn't put him at ease either. The ease with which Ser Rodrick accepted him was equally as disturbing. It gave too much weight to Sansa's words.

How many others are spreading the truth now? Jon wondered, Does King Robert know yet? Are we going to avoid a war with the Lannisters only to battle the Baratheons?

He paced in his room for a while stewing in his thoughts. He mouth felt very dry, he realised that he was thirsty now. He hadn't undressed so he left his room and went in search of something to drink.

He walked through the halls of Winterfell, heading for the kitchens.

Some ale would do nicely now...

He never made it to the kitchens, in the great hall he found Robb sitting in front of the lit hearth with a mug in his hand and bottle by his side, drinking sullenly.

He approached cautiously, "Robb?"

Robb jerked and twisted towards him in surprise, his drink sloshing over him. "What? Jon?"

"Couldn't sleep either?" Jon asked.

Robb stared at him eerily, before answering quietly, "Yes."

Jon frowned taking a second to really stare at his brother...no, cousin, Jon reminded himself. Robb looked strained and lost. Again Jon, couldn't even catch a glimpse of the brother he once knew.

Jon pulled up a chair and placed it next to Robb's, in front of the roaring hearth, "You going to share?"

Robb looked down and stared at his mug before pulling out a second from somewhere and giving it to Jon. Robb filled the mug and then Jon gulped deeply of the ale before sitting down and staring at Robb. Robb was staring at him as well.

"I barely recognize you." Robb finally said in an unsure voice.

"A lot happened," Jon took another gulp from his mug.

Robb's face darkened, "Aye."

Jon frowned at him, "We've all changed."

Robb stared down into his mug, "You smile more."

Jon snorted, "I had friends that taught me to stop brooding."

Robb turned to look at him with a sad smile, "Finally found some?"

Jon laughed, that sounded more like the Robb he knew, "Had to happen eventually."

"Tell me about them," Robb requested.

"There was Samwell Tarly, a fellow recruit."

"Tarly? As in Randyll Tarly? Those Tarlys?" asked Robb in surprise.

"Aye, his first born son, Randyll banished him from Horn Hill to the Wall 'cause he was fat and craven," explained Jon.

"Randyll Tarly's son...fat and craven?" Robb repeated giving him an incredulous look.

"Sam liked to read more than...well anything else. But he wasn't truly a coward. He only fought when cornered and even then only for those he cared about. But he was fat, only at the end did he shed all the fat." Jon explained.

"He doesn't sound like his father..." Robb remarked offhand.

"Sam was also the first man in thousands of years to slay a white walker," Jon retorted.

Robb blinked, "That sounds like Randyll Tarly's son."

Jon smiled, "He was fat and slow when he did that. Sam...Sam is like a brother to me, he was and is my most trustworthy adviser."

"I think I'd like to meet this Samwell Tarly," Robb said after a thoughtful moment.

Jon nodded and continued, knowing what he was going to say next would shock Robb. "There were two others though who truly showed me how to laugh more."

"Who?"

"One was Tormund Giantsbane. A Wildling," Jon stated.

Robb gaped, "You're japing? A Wildling?"

Jon shook his head.

Robb gave him an incredulous look before finishing off his mug. He reached for the bottle and refilled his mug, taking another deep gulp before turning back to Jon.

"A Wildling, really?"

Jon nodded, "You'll like him when you meet him."

Robb gave him a skeptical look, "And your other friend?"

Jon smiled but inwardly he was bracing himself for Robb's reaction, "Tyrion Lannister."

The ease that had been growing in Robb's face disappeared and was replaced with a mask of anger, "Tyrion...Lannister," he spat, "The Imp?!"

"Tyrion is a better man than you'd think," Jon defended.

"That creature sent an assassin after Bran!" Robb near roared in anger.

"Joffrey sent the assassin. Tyrion never acted against us till the war started."

Robb froze and gaped.

"In King's Landing, he protected Sansa from Joffrey. After you died, eventually...he even became Daenerys's Hand."

Robb was blinking in surprise now, "He became her Hand?"

"He was a good Hand, loyal and not at all faithless like his father." Jon explained.

Robb stared at Jon, his eyes unreadable.

Robb took a slow drink from his ale, before turning to stare mournfully into the hearth fire, "I feel like the world has gone mad, so much happened afterwards. There was so much we didn't know or realise...so many evil things happened....and that's not including the Others."

Jon frowned, seeing Robb starting to slide back into his melancholy. Seeing his brother disappear before his eyes.

"Aye, it is unimaginable and so many things happened but it wasn't all bad, some good things did happen," Jon leaned towards Robb, and gestured him close. He looked about for any hidden eavesdroppers, before speaking again, in a very quiet and hushed tone, "Arya actually fell in love."

Robb who had just taken a drink, spat it out in surprise, spraying Jon with ale. He looked at Jon in disbelief for a moment before a grin spread across his face.

"Really?"

Jon, face dripping with ale, nodded solemnly.

"That poor fool," Robb japed, with a low laugh.

"Gendry wasn't the smartest man around, but he was a demon with a warhammer," Jon admitted happily, "He loved her too."

Robb snorted with laughter, "And all the times she mocked Sansa for wanting to fall in love!" He raised his mug to Jon, "To Gendry and Arya!" he took a deep drink, "I'm going to enjoy mocking her."

Jon smiled widely, finally seeing his brother again. Arya's going to make you regret any mocking, he thought idly, me as well for telling you. At least it's worth it to see you laugh again.

They sat in silence for a moment, "So we're cousins then?" Robb said eventually breaking the silence.

"Cousins by blood only. Brothers by fact. Now and always." Jon retorted quickly.

Robb stared at him eyes glistening for a moment before nodded sagely, "Brothers." He raised his mug and they drank together.

"You..." Robb hesitated, "...you told father you didn't blame him for keeping the secret."

Jon nodded, "Aye."

"Do you really? You're not angry?" Robb asked insistently.

"Uncle had a choice before him, he did everything he could to protect me from his dearest friend," Jon nodded and smiled sadly, "I understand why, and it had to be done." Jon paused and gave Robb a smirk before continuing, "Though it would have been nice to know the truth...before I bedded my own aunt."

Jon watched as Robb recoiled in disgust and shock. Jon laughed at the expression on Robb's face.

"The look on your face," Jon manged to say in between gales of laughter.

"How can you be laughing? It's a sin! It's Incest!" exclaimed Robb in shock.

Jon shrugged easily, "We're Targaryens...its not actually an issue. At least, not much of a one."

Robb opened his mouth to retort but no words came out. After a moment he closed it. He remained silent and instead took a deep gulp of his ale.

"Oh....right..." he eventually manged to say.

Jon smiled, at his cousin's consternation. "Just roll with the punches, laughter helps..." he raised his mug, "Ale and wine help as well- at least according to Tyrion."

Robb gave him a dubious look before snorting in derision and giving him a small laugh. The stress in his face now completely gone.

"Whatever happens, whatever comes...the pack stays together," Robb finally said with a smile.

Jon raised his mug in salute, with an easy smile on his face, "The pack stays together."

They drained their mugs and then sat in an easeful silence, waiting for the morning to come.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Benjen Stark

He entered Jeor's solar, a mix of trepidation and exhilaration. The last of the traitors had been rounded up and either killed, if they resisted or thrown into a cell. Their fates would be decided at a later...

Strange thoughts filled his head as he saw familiar people acting in unfamiliar ways. Recruits acting like veterans and loyal men treated as traitors. The sight of the First Builder and First Steward in the cells chilled him. What had they done? Thorne he could imagine, but not those two, they'd always been loyal and reliable.

He shook his head, casting that away and remembering his last stand. He'd saved his dear nephew after the dragons had flown away. He'd known that a final death was coming as he'd stood alone against the army of the Dead, all alone. He'd fought. He'd died.

And then suddenly he was back.

Back at Castle Black.

Back fully alive.

Benjen shook his head, murmuring silently a quiet prayer to the Old Gods for whatever second chance this was.

He focused on the here and now, turning to look at the others assembled here.

Maester Aemon, Lord Commander Mormont and Dolorous Edd were waiting for him in the solar. They were sitting close together talking animatedly.

Jeor looked disturbed and thoughtful, though Benjen thought that was probably a look most people had in this situation. Maester Aemon looked a little amused along with thoughtful.

But Edd...

Edd seemed to actually look jolly...and at ease. The wide smile on his face was definitely out of place and not like the dolorous Edd he was known to be.

"Lord Commander," Benjen began as the Old Bear turned to him.

Jeor smiled at him and stood up, stepped towards him, "Benjen! Damn glad to see you!" Jeor grabbed Benjen and pulled him into a bear hug. He let go and pulled away quickly, "Everything went to shit after you went on that ranging of yours and died," he scowled in annoyance.

Benjen smiled back at the enthusiastic welcome, "I didn't actually die." he retorted ruefully. "Not on that ranging anyway."

Jeor gaped, looking like someone had clubbed him over the head, "What happened then? Where'd you disappear to then?"

"I ran into the Others, nearly died but the Children of the Forest found me."

Again, Jeor looked like someone had just clubbed him over the head for a second time, "The Children of the Forest?" he gasped.

Benjen nodded, "Aye, they saved me...after a fashion."

Jeor scratched his beard, "Sit down Benjen, we have a lot to talk about."

Benjen found a seat and sat, while Jeor retook his. Edd opened his mouth to continue whatever he had been saying before, but Jeor cut him off with a raised hand. He paused and then cast glances at Aemon and Benjen before jerking his head at them, "Do they know the truth? About Jon?"

Benjen frowned and cast a curious look at Jeor before turning to Edd. "Do I know what about Jon?"

Edd opened his mouth but no sound came out, he closed it quickly and then frowned with confusion, "I don't know..." he gave Benjen a look, "Do you know his secret?"

Benjen frowned, "Secret? Jon has a secret?" he asked in surprise.

"The truth about his parents?" Edd asked plainly.

Benjen just shook his head, "Ned never told me about his mother, whoever she was or what happened between her and Ned." That was the one thing Ned never shared with him.

Edd paled, "Ohhh...."

A thought struck him and Benjen frowned, "Are you saying you know who Jon's mother is?" he asked surprise, "And why is this relevant?"

"I'd say it was relevant," stated Jeor firmly. "Tell them, Tollett."

Benjen watched as Edd winced, "Ned Stark isn't Jon's father. He's your sister's son. Your sister's son with...Rhaegar Targaryen."

He heard Maester Aemon's startled gasp but Benjen didn't immediately realise the meaning of it. The import of the words trickled slowly into Benjen's head and his heart seemed to stop for moment when he understood the import.

Lya's son? Lyanna had a son? Jon is Lya's son?

Her image flashed before his eyes and sorrow filled him as he thought of his long dead sister's fate. Abducted and raped by that damned dragon prince. He remembered the tourney at Harrenhal and, how the smug prince had rode up to Lya and crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty instead of his own wife. He scowled angrily as his long buried rage resurfaced. That damned Prince and his perverted actions!

He couldn't think but Edd was still talking, "...his mother went willingly with Rhaegar...they were even married by the High Septon."

His rage cooled faster than a fire next to an Other , By the Old Gods and the New!

Benjen couldn't breath, Lya's son, echoed in his mind, Lya's trueborn son, "But that means he's..."

"Jon Targaryen, the rightful king." Edd finished smoothly for him.

Benjen sat quietly now, trying to come to grips with these new revelations, Why didn't you ever tell me Ned? Why did you keep this from me!

He cast a look at Maester Aemon...Aemon Targaryen, a part of his mind quietly spoke relevantly, Jon's other uncle. A great or great great uncle...or was it great great great uncle?

The old Maester appeared curiously quiet and composed to hear that he still had kin in Westeros.

Jeor frowned at the blind Maester, "You're awfully quiet, Aemon."

Aemon pursed his lips, his face now contorting with chagrin, "Too many times I would hear Jon's voice and for an instance I would think that Egg was speaking to me. I am an old man, sometimes my mind plays tricks on me. I thought that was all it was, the cost of old age, but...."

Egg. Aegon Targaryen the IV. The Unlikely. Aemon's beloved dead brother...and Jon's, how every many greats, grandfather...

Aemon shook his head, "...I...my heart is glad to know this. Too long I have been ashamed of what my family had descended too. I am glad there is one I can still be proud of now," Aemon finished with an emotional tremble in his voice and a happy smile.

Edd smiled, "Daenerys Targaryen is someone else you should be proud of. She stood with us unflinching to the end."

Aemon was beaming now, and his eyes were twinkling with moisture now. He nodded happily but didn't add anything.

Silence descended on the group for while as they contemplated this revelation. Too many thoughts stirred in Benjen's mind, If things had played out differently, Lya would have been the Queen...

Jeor cleared his throat bringing him out of his revere, "As shocking as this revelation is, Edd still has more to tell us." he stated evenly. He nodded at Edd, "Get started- and don't leave anything out."

"Right Lord Commander," Edd began talking explaining just how all this was possible.

Benjen sat in silence listening as Edd spoke of the plan. An ambitious and costly one, especially from what Benjen knew of magic. They all shouldn't have remembered so something had gone wrong, though how wrong Edd didn't know. He spoke of the battle at Hardhome and how badly it had gone. He spoke of the traitors and how Thorne and the others had betrayed Jon, when he let the Wildlings through the Wall.

That jolted Benjen hard as Edd talked about Jon's murder and subsequent resurrection by the Red Woman. He saw Aemon pale considerably as he listened to that.

Finally, Edd stated that they had to let the Wildlings past the Wall. They had to let one hundred thousand Wildlings into the North. Edd was responsible for enacting this part of the original plan.

Benjen balked at that notion...old instincts warred with this. Against all he'd faced north of the Wall. Of the legions of he'd faced off against in the end.

"Trusting Wildlings will not be easy," Jeor eventually stated evenly.

Benjen nodded in agreement, he thought of Qhorin Halfhand and others that truly despised the Wildlings.

"Given what young Edd has told us, we appear to have no choice in the matter." retorted Aemon evenly. "A hundred thousand Wildlings or...one hundred thousand Wights."

"As Jon says we're breathing, so we're all on the same side now," Edd remarked ominously.

Jeor thought for a moment before nodding in agreement, he turned to Edd, "Since you know everything, we'll follow your lead on this, you'll be in charge of this," he proclaimed evenly.

The smile vanished from Edd's face and was replaced with a stricken look. He gave Jeor a very concerned look, "Please don't make me Lord Commander again!"

Jeor snorted and laughed at Edd's stricken reaction, while Aemon gave Edd an amused smile.