Interlude: An Emotional Day

You have slept in your bed, it restored your Health, Stamina, Mana to their maximum! Whatever ailments you may have suffered are nullified!

Jon's mind welcomed the familiar view of his old rooms that morning. He had a slight smile on his face as he got up and started to get ready for the day. His uncle had said that they were to rest for a couple of days to fend off the weariness of their hard travels. Then they would continue with their plans, it would also give Lord Stark time to get his thoughts in order. He had put on his favourite doublet, the one Lady Anya gifted him, the image of the white wolf prominent at the front. He made his way towards the Great Hall to break his fast. All of the Stark family and friends were already present at the hall, as well as Torrhen, only Asher was missing. Jon chuckled in his mind, that lazy arse was always late in the mornings.

Jon gulped when he saw that Wynafryd Manderly had a seat open beside her and looking at him expectantly. He changed his direction subtly and went to sit between Arya and Bran. Both of them gave him dazzling smiles and a side-way hug each. Sansa from his opposite seat squealed in excitement.

"Jon, that's a wonderful doublet you have on. The stitching is exquisite!"

Jon gave her a shy smile, "Thank you, Sansa. Lady Anya had made this for me. She is a very skilful seamstress."

Arya piped up from beside him, "Only Sansa could be excited about some stupid clothes! I wanna hear more about Gale!"

Sansa turned red in anger and embarrassment, "Just because it is something that I enjoy, that doesn't make it stupid."

"Of course it does, because you are stupid!"

"That's enough, Arya." Ned admonished her. But the damage was already done. Sansa got up from her seat with a sniff.

"If I may be excused, I have had my fill for this morning." She made her way out of the Hall.

"Sansa!" Lady Catelyn called after her daughter, but she didn't reply to her.

Jon sighed, "That was not very nice, little wolf. She is your sister, she doesn't deserve to be insulted so by you."

Arya stared at him with a look of utter betrayal on her face. "You are taking the side of Sansa?! Don't you remember how she makes fun of me and calls me Horseface?!"

Jon turned towards her, "Don't you remember what your Lord Father always says about you?"

Arya took a glance at Ned and shook her head bewildered.

"He always says that you look like your Aunt Lyanna. She was said to be one of the most beautiful women in all of Westeros, and if you look exactly like her, then…?" Jon raised an eyebrow at her.

Arya again shook her head confusedly.

"You too will grow up to be one of the most beautiful ladies in the North, the whole of Westeros for that matter. Everybody will be praising the beautiful Lady Arya, and all who ever called you 'Horseface', will be eating their words."

Arya's cheeks had turned pink, she elbowed hard at Jon's side. "I am not a lady, stupid."

Jon chuckled, "Of course not. But you still owe Sansa an apology." He said sternly.

Arya scowled, "Do I have to?"

Jon turned fully in his seat, "Arya, have you ever seen Robb and I fight as you do? We may have had our differences, but we always made up, because we are brothers, we are members of the pack…and we are better off for that, we are stronger together. Sansa is your sister, your family. She's too a member of the pack. Remember Father's words? When the snows fall and white winds blow…"

"…the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." Arya, Bran and Rickon finished together.

"Exactly." Jon looked at Arya expectantly, she had her head down.

"Fine, I'll apologize to her!"

Jon smushed her hair and looked up to see a proud smile on Ned's face, he nodded to him approvingly. Lady Stark had her head down, keeping her gaze fixed at her plate. She seemed to be lost in thought, her eyes were red-rimmed, she appeared to be not have had a restful night. Could his uncle already have told her about him? Jon shrugged mentally.

The atmosphere that the morning drama ensued were broken by Asher almost running into the Hall. Red-faced, he bowed to Ned.

"Pardon my tardiness, My Lord. I couldn't find my bearings this morning."

"…or any other mornings!" Jon and Torrhen said in unison.

"Jon." Ned chided, while Asher took his seat scowling at the duo.

Ned cleared his throat, "Tell me about your lessons, Jon."

Jon took a moment to gather his thoughts. "My lessons with Maester Darryl in economy, treaties and the likes took up to where I have left it with Maester Luwin. He is patient with his pupils and takes great care in explaining the lessons. Lord Rickard had taken it up to himself teaching Torrhen, Asher and I about the politics of the North. He also teaches us strategies and warfare. He is great in his lessons, Father. It never felt that he was giving us lessons, but telling us stories and anecdotes, and afterwards, asking us what have we learned and what we could have done differently in those situations, then he patiently explains to us if we are wrong." All three of them had brilliant smiles on their faces thinking about those lessons.

Ned gave them a pleased smile, he made a mental note to praise Lord Rickard for his teaching techniques. He saw Torrhen nudge Jon and whisper something in his ear. Jon turned red and shook his head, glaring at him.

"What is it, Jon?" Ned asked amusedly.

Jon sighed and gave another venomous glare at Torrhen, stutteringly he said, "Lady Anya had taught us dancing…"

Torrhen chuckled, "What he is not saying, My Lord, is that the Wolf here is as graceful on the dance floor as he is in the yard. But that is not what I was talking about." Arya made a face at the term dancing and Bran had an eager look plastered on.

Jon hissed at Torrhen, "Shut your mouth, will you?"

"Jon?" Ned prompted him.

Defeated, he mumbled, "Lady Anya also had made me taking singing lessons after she caught me humming to Alys in her sickbed."

Torrhen chimed in, "She says that he has a golden voice, and we have to agree with her. Alys throws tantrums if Jon doesn't sing her to sleep every night."

Arya scowled at Jon, "That is not fair, you never sang to me!"

"That's not right, little wolf, I used to sing to you when you were little and once you had the fever and wouldn't go to sleep till I sang to you, but…" Jon trailed off.

A quiet sob escaped from the Lady Stark. She had banned the bastard from visiting her daughter and tongue-lashed him something fierce. By now Jon was sure that his uncle had a chat with her.

Ned cleared his throat again, "What about your arms training?" He tried to divert the conversation.

"My training with the sword has become somewhat repetitive. Master Keen is as great a teacher as Ser Rodrick, but I find myself getting bored by the lessons. I was hoping to spar with you, Father."

Nodding thoughtfully, Ned replied, "Mayhaps the time has come for me to take a closer look at your swordplay. I will certainly begin with that while you are staying here to set you on your way. And the next I see Robb, I'll assess his progress and teach him too." Jon nodded his head fervently. "What about other training?"

"Well, spear fighting too had come to a stop since Cley wasn't there to point out my faults…" He sent a wink at Cley, who smirked back. "I have developed somewhat a style for my own with short axe and dagger for the lack of sword expertise, but I have indeed become much better with a bow."

Theon, who had been sitting at a corner quietly up till then, let out a derisive snort. "Please, Snow. The day you become an expert with the bow, is the day I shave off my head."

Asher perked up at that, "Is that a promise, Greyjoy?" He had heard a lot about the squid-ward from Jon, he wanted to take him down a peg or two for his friend.

Jon kicked him at the sheen, "How about a wager instead, say, five dragons?"

"Never pegged you for a coward, Snow! I say twenty dragons!"

Jon shrugged his shoulder, "It's your money."

Theon got up from his seat, "Be at the yard in half an hour." He turned to leave the Hall.

Asher's mocking voice rang out, "We shall have a merry time at Winter Town on the morrow, lads, Greyjoy will be generously providing the money." Theon stormed out of the hall in rage.

A glare from Ned fixed Jon at his seat, "While I don't approve of any kind of wagering boys, I am curious to see your progress. I am going to let it be for this time only. Do not make it a habit, understood?" He said sternly. They couldn't nod their heads fast enough.

*Line Break*

Jon went out at the yard flanked by Arya and Bran. Arya had given the Septa the slip again. She was hopping with excitement. Bran, on the other hand, was asking twenty questions per minute. Words about the wager had spread throughout the keep, the yard was more crowded than normal. They could see Theon standing in the middle and shooting arrows after arrows at the target. He sneered at Jon looking at the procession behind him.

"If your adoring fans could live without you for a few minutes, Snow, we have a challenge waiting."

Jon went to the weapon stand and picked up a bow and a quiver full of arrows. He came to stand beside Theon, he looked at the targets and found them to be at thirty paces. He had a smirk on his face, he had been practising at hundred paces now for his quest. This was going to be insultingly easy.

Theon went first, he took his stance and rapidly fired five arrows. His grouping was impressive with one arrow in the bullseye. Then it was Jon's turn. He took aim and fired his arrow, without missing a beat, he whirled around Theon and fired another arrow at the target on the right with his alternate hand, then he went down on one knee with the bow held horizontally to the ground and fired at the left side target, then he did a turn on the knee and fired again at the middle one. His drawing and releasing of the arrows were lightning fast, all of this took only a couple of heartbeats.

Everyone in the yard was silent, they couldn't believe their eyes. Jon's first arrow went through Theon's bullseye by slicing the shaft in half and driving the arrowhead further into the target. His next two shots were bullseyes on either side. His last arrow had divided his previous one in the middle and drove both the former arrowheads deep into the target.

Jon looked at Theon and said, "I believe the last arrow isn't needed, don't you think?"

Theon didn't reply, he slapped a pouch of coins at Jon's chest and stormed off the yard. The crowd broke off into cheers, his friend approached him and clapped on his back. Arya and Bran were hollering at the top of their lungs from the fences where they had climbed up to get a good vantage point. Suddenly, they all went quiet. Jon turned to see the reason and found Ned came striding up at him, a look of cold fury etched on his face.

"Put the bow and arrows back and pick up a practice sword, then follow me to the Godswood." He had picked up a broadsword himself and swung it around to test its balance while marching on towards the Godswood. He looked back over his shoulder and barked, "Now, Jon!"

Jon hurriedly put the bow and arrows back and picked up a blunted longsword himself and scrambled after Ned. The crowd had already dispersed by then, his friends looked at each other in confusion and shrugged their shoulders.

Jon found his uncle beside the hot spring pacing agitatedly. He looked up at his nephew when he heard his footsteps and in a very cold voice, asked him –

"What in the Gods' name was that?"

"I was challenged by Theon…"

"I didn't ask you about the challenge, I asked about the hideous showing off that you performed!" Roared Ned.

Jon gulped, he had never seen his uncle this much angry.

"Prepare yourself!" Ned suddenly charged at Jon with his sword raised. Jon had just the time to raise his and block the attack. The impact jarred his arm so that it felt to him as if the bones in his arm had been shattered into thousand pieces. He was shocked by the speed and ferocity of his uncle's attacks. Within a blink, he was on the ground, disarmed and breathing hard.

Ned went back to his place and barked, "Again! Pick up your sword!"

Jon groaned and got to his feet, holding the sword in a ready stance, but he wasn't ready for the repeat performance. Time and time again his uncle just decimated whatever sword skill he had mustered.

Within a few minutes, Jon wasn't even able to pick himself up from the ground, he was drenched in sweat and bruises started to form where his uncle's sword had struck him. Ned wasn't even out of his breath.

He looked down at Jon disappointedly and sat down on the rock he preferred by the side of the spring.

"I never taught my sons to show off. And I can guarantee neither did Rickard."

Jon had managed enough strength to sit up by now. He had his eyes trained on the ground, shame coursing through his veins.

"Did you feel good when I made your skills in sword look like nothing?" He shook his head. "How do you think Theon felt when you mocked him in the yard?"

Jon tried to retort about the hundreds of times Theon had mocked him when he deliberately lost in spars with Robb, but Ned put up a hand to stop him.

"I know how he behaved with you in the past, how Robb often behaved due to his influence. Do you think I let Robb be when he did the same? No, I admonished him about his behaviours, and if need be, punished him. You may have never come to know about them because I did it in the privacy of my solar. Because he is my heir, one day he is to rule over the people present here. I had to protect that image of his as I did with yours just now. What do you think everybody's reaction would have been if they saw the White Wolf bite the dust so easily? You have made a name for yourself, and I had to protect that."

Ned took a deep breath and put his hand into the water.

"Why I didn't do the same with Theon, you may ask. The answer is simple, he is not my blood. The lessons I can and will impart with Robb and you, I won't do that with him."

He turned to Jon, "Look at me, son." Jon looked up at his uncle's eyes. "You need to understand, never, should you be mocking an opponent. Someone could be out there with even greater skill than yours. They could as easily beat you as you beat others. Showing off your skills has its place, when you need to put the fear of Gods into your enemies or when you are trying to protect the lives of the people with you, you can show off and made them doubt about confronting you, but never in a mocking way. You are right in thinking that the challenge today was well beneath your skills. But you should've let your skills speak for you. What you did today was mocking the labour, the hours of dedication that Theon put in his skill. That is not the honourable way."

Ned sighed and dropped his head. "I know that people mock me for my views on honour. Honourable fool, they call me. Mayhaps I am a fool because I never learned the fine balance between honour and cunning. That is why I want you, Robb – all my children, to learn from my mistakes. Be the most cunning you can be, be the absolute best you are destined to be, but never forget your honour. This world still needs honourable people to steer it to the right path. I know there may come times when you have to do some things that will go opposite to my teachings, but do not let those few instances describe who you are. Try to be honourable in other deeds that will follow."

Ned got up to his feet, "Be here at the crack of dawn on the morrow. Your training in the Starks' way of swords will begin then." He left a thoughtful Jon behind in the Godswood.

Ping!

Quest Alert!

The Northern Blizzard – Part 1

Master the Starks Sword style from your uncle within the duration of your stay

Reward: ?

Jon groaned and laid back down on the ground. It seemed to him that the System agreed with his uncle that he needed to learn humility. For mastering any style in such a short time, he would need to put the backbreaking effort into it.

*Line Break*

After washing off the sweat and grimes of his 'lesson' with his uncle and a change of clothing, Jon decided to visit the Glass Gardens. He needed to gather winter roses for his mother. Lunch was still a while away, he had plenty of times for a visit to his mother.

The rosebushes were blooming with beautiful, blue winter roses. Jon had a smile on his face when the sweet smell of the flowers reached his nose, it was as if his mother's presence could be felt through the scent of winter roses.

His hands stayed from plucking the flowers when he heard the sound of sniffling coming from somewhere inside of the Garden. A little investigation had revealed it to be Sansa, she had sequestered herself at a corner beside the rosebushes, sitting there hugging her knees to her chest, head down and sniffing away. Jon dropped his head with a sigh.

"Sansa?"

"Go away!"

"I am afraid I can't do that, milady."

"Have you come to mock me some more then?"

"When have I ever mocked you?"

"I know what you all think! Stupid Sansa, she knows nothing except sewing and dresses. She doesn't like to get her clothes dirty because she is vain. Arya is the best. She is the apple of everyone's eyes. But Sansa is stupid because she wants to make her mother happy by trying to be a good daughter to her."

Jon sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

"May I have a seat?"

She didn't reply to him.

"Fine, I'll just stand here."

"You can sit." Came her timid answer.

Jon sat down a little away from her, leaning on the wall behind.

"Now, tell me truly, have I ever made fun of you for your love of singing, dancing and dresses?"

Sansa shook her head, "No, you didn't. But I know that Arya is your favourite, you and Robb will do everything for her. I know how you both were giving her lessons in arms…and how you made Cley promise to continue doing that after you went for your fosterage with the Karstarks. Everybody loves her, only stupid Sansa gets left behind. When Wynafryd came here, I was so happy at first, thinking I was getting a new friend. But slowly, everybody started to forget about me. Jeyne and Beth were so interested in her hairstyle and the designs of her dresses. Septa Mordane had praises for her very neat needlework. Even Arya talks with her more civilly than she does with me. Mother and Father are always busy with their duties. Where does that leave me?"

"What about your lessons with Lady Ella?"

"Septa tells me that a proper lady shouldn't be learning about those foolish things."

Jon made a tight fist in anger.

"Have you told your Lord Father about that?"

"No, I told you, Father is always busy. He doesn't have time to just chat with me."

"Fine, I will talk with him. You should know, Sansa, Lady Ella had come here to teach everybody. Not just Bran and Rickon or Arya. Robb and I also took lessons from her when we were here. Lord Stark wanted all of us to know more about the North and its people."

"But the Septa…"

Jon cut her off, "The Septa isn't from the North, Sansa, but you are. You are the daughter of the Lord Paramount of the North. Don't you think it's your duty to know about the lands and the people your father is the lord of?"

Sansa nodded her head a little. Her face still flushed from her crying. Jon reached out and took her hand in his.

"You want to know something that everybody forgot?" Sansa nodded eagerly. "Among all the Stark children, you were the first to born in the North. Robb was born at Riverlands, I came from Dorne…but you, Sansa, you are born in the North, in a way, you are more Northerner than both Robb and I put together. I wager if you tell him that, he will be so pissed." Jon gave her a smirk, Sansa let out a giggle in reply.

After a few minutes of silence, Jon asked her –

"What do you think of training in arms, Sansa?"

She frowned, "But Mother and the Septa say that…"

"I am not talking about them, I am talking about you. Do you want to learn about how to handle arms?"

Sansa bit her lips in thought.

"I don't know, Jon. I mean, I never thought about it. I love the stories of brave knights and how they impressed their ladyloves, but wielding arms myself, never. I am not like Arya, Jon."

"No, you are not like Arya, and Arya is most definitely not like you. Both of you have unique personalities. Arya mayhaps the one with a warrior's spirit, but you are a beautiful and smart, young lady. I think you are smarter than all of us together. It certainly doesn't mean that you are not a brave soul with the fight in your heart. You are a wolf, Sansa, never forget that."

Sansa gave him a disbelieving look. "I am not smarter than all of you."

"What? I am telling you the truth. Robb, if something comes to his mind, he won't rest till it's done, he is bullheaded like that. Arya, she will rather stab someone than sit still and listen to them. Bran had his head in the clouds, and Baby Rickon, well, he is wilder than Arya. So technically, that leaves you to be the only smartest one, does not it?"

She gave him a beautiful smile. "You have left yourself out of that list, Jon."

Jon shrugged. "I am not a Stark. And besides, I have my dumb moments. Asher and Torrhen can tell you about them."

Sansa sighed and leaned back on the wall. "I still don't think me wielding arms is a good idea."

"How do you know it's not? You have never picked up any in your life. I bet you can become a great archer. Or learn to fight with daggers or a spear. You have the build." Jon leaned in conspiratorially, "And who knows, you may give Arya some serious competition in becoming a famous fighter like Princess Nymeria."

Sansa giggled again and shoved him away. "Stop making wild stories, Jon. If you are forgetting, I am a lady, and ladies don't fight."

"I dare you to tell that to the ladies of Bear Island."

Sansa had a thoughtful look on her face. Jon suddenly leapt to his feet and offered her a hand.

"Come with me!"

"What?"

"Come with me, I want to show you something!"

He pulled her to her feet and started to drag her out of the Garden.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Just come with me and you will see."

He took her out of the Glass Garden and to the Godswood. Sansa was panting for running all the way there, she sat down on a rock and wiped her brow.

"Jon Snow, if it was your ploy to make me start working out, then I will…"

Jon put up his hands, "It was not, I promise. I truly wanted to show you something."

She frowned at him, "What is this special thing then?"

"You'll see!"

Jon let out a loud whistle, minutes later, Gale landed gracefully on his shoulder. Sansa gasped at seeing her.

"You have seen her from afar. Now meet Her Grace, Princess Gale."

The bird looked at her imperiously.

"She is so beautiful, Jon!" Sansa gushed.

"Aye, she is. People will tell you she is even snootier than any real princesses. She is the perfect lady. You can pet her, she won't mind."

Sansa carefully reached out and caressed the feathers on Gale's chest. The bird had her eyes closed in pleasure. Suddenly, she leapt up from Jon's shoulder and swooped towards Sansa. She shrieked and covered her face with her hands. Gale landed on Sansa's shoulder and started to preening the loose strands of her hair.

"Don't worry, it just means that she likes you," Jon assured her.

Sansa slowly removed her hands from her face and turned her head towards Gale. The bird fixed her yellow eyes to her blue ones and then started to rub her head to her cheek. Sansa let out a loud giggle.

"She is so precious!" She was about to melt into a puddle.

"Congratulations, you are now on a very short list of people that Gale approves of."

"Oh? And who else is on this list?"

"Well, now there is you, obviously," Jon took a seat on another rock beside Sansa, "Then there is Lady Anya, little Alys…and she sometimes graces me with her presence."

Sansa let out a peal of tinkling laughter. Jon thought that he liked the sound of her laughter.

"So, what do you think of her?"

"She is so beautiful and graceful. She is like a proper lady."

"Aye, that she is. But she is also a ferocious killer. The sky is her queendom, and she hunts with the swiftness and zeal of a bloodthirsty predator."

Sansa gave him a look, "I can see what you are trying to do, Jon Snow."

He just smirked at her.

She let out a sigh and reached out to pet the feathers on Gale's back. "Fine, you win. I will try to learn how to wield arms. But if Mother catches me, I am blaming you." She narrowed her eyes at him.

Jon bowed his head in acquiescence, "As you wish, milady."

They sat there in silence for a few moments.

"Why are you doing this, Jon?"

"What do you mean?"

"This…making me feel better. Trying to make me a proper Northern Lady, taking my side instead of Arya's…why are you doing all these?"

Jon sighed. "I don't know if you remember it or not, but you were once the best and only friend I had. I mean there were you, me and Robb, but it was always you and I against Robb. We were always playing the Lady of the Tower, where Robb was always made to be the monster, and I, your brave knight, I was to fight the monster and rescue you. Do you remember that?"

Sansa nodded, eyes far away from the present, thinking about those days. Jon had his head down, looking at the water of the spring.

"And then, one day suddenly, you stopped talking to me. When I asked, you said that a lady shouldn't mingle with a bastard. I didn't know what to say or feel. By then, Theon had arrived, someone far more interesting to Robb than the simple me. I was truly alone then, Sansa, I had lost both my best friend and my brother and I had no idea what to do. Arya was just a baby then. Lady Stark was often in bed because she was heavy with Bran. I tried to chase my loneliness away by trying to talk with Baby Arya. I took care of her, oftentimes, I spent all my day with her. I think that is the reason why She is so fond of me. I tried to chase the ghost of my friend away with a little sister."

Sansa had a hand covering her mouth, eyes brimming with tears, she never had any idea about any of these. Jon continued with his reminiscing.

"Then, we grew up some more, Theon had become old news and Robb once again became the brother I had. By then, Arya also had grown up, always following me everywhere, nobody could control her other than me. Robb used to get jealous, he tried to be like me with her, but Arya preferred me over him. Now that I think about it, Robb too was trying to fill the gap of the little sister he lost with Arya, for neither of us had gotten back our Sansa, the third member of our little pack. So we- Robb, Arya and I, became the new pack, and started have our fun in our ways. Not like Lady of the Tower, no. Arya would have bashed our heads with a club for even mentioning it." Jon chuckled, "Bran and Rickon were too young to get involved with our misdeeds, so it was just us three. Sometimes I could see my best friend, going about her lessons, being a dutiful daughter, but she was lost to me."

Sansa launched herself at Jon by then, almost toppling him off the rock he was sitting on. Gale screeched in annoyance about suddenly losing her perch and flew off to a nearby branch, looking balefully at them.

Sansa was sobbing in Jon's chest, he was befuddled, he didn't know how to comfort a crying girl.

"I am so sorry, Jon. I never knew any of it. Mother told me to stop spending time with you, I didn't want to, please believe me. I just wanted to make Mother happy."

Not getting what else to do, Jon started to pat her on her head. "It's alright, Sansa."

Moving away to look at him, Sansa scowled and slapped him on his chest, "That's not how you comfort when someone is crying, stupid!"

"How would I know? I never had anybody crying on top of me. Well, there was that girl, but she wasn't sobbing in my shirt…"

"What girl?"

Jon scowled in thought, "I will tell you later."

Sansa nodded and looked down to the ground. "Please forgive me?" She asked in a low voice.

Jon sighed and grabbed her hands in his. "There is nothing to forgive, Sansa."

"Why?"

Jon smiled, he untied his armband and unfurled it. It was a kerchief with a white dire wolf embroidered on it. The colours had faded from over-usage.

"Do you recognize it?"

Sansa gasped, "It was the kerchief I gifted you when you left for your fosterage!"

"Aye, I had taken to wear it on my arm, with the wolf displayed to all. This is the reason why people started to call me the White Wolf. Lady Anya had stitched me some more, but this one is my favourite, I use it all the time. Come to think of it, it is because of you, I am the White Wolf."

Sansa giggled, "You should thank me then."

"I do, I do thank you all the time, Sansa. When you gifted me this, I thought mayhaps my friend wasn't lost. She is still there. That's why I am trying so hard to help you now, Sansa. I am trying to help you become the best you can be. We are the pack of direwolves. We all have a part to play. Lord Stark is the Quiet Wolf, the fearsome leader of the pack, Robb is the Young Wolf, the able and dutiful heir. Arya is the Wild Wolf, the untamable, but fiercely loyal to the pack. Bran is the Wise Wolf, one day he will become one of the greatest thinkers, a great knight, or mayhaps a wise Maester. Rickon is still a little pup. But you Sansa, you are the Red Wolf, the cleverest of them all."

Sansa gave him a watery smile, "And you are the White Wolf, protector of all."

Jon chuckled at that. He squeezed her hands, "Thank you for bringing my friend back to me, Sansa."

Sansa leaned in and gave a peck on his cheek, "I will always be your friend, Jon."

"Now come on, you haven't had a proper breakfast this morning. I wager you are dying of hunger by now."

"Yes, I could eat a horse…or a dozen lemon cakes." They both broke in laughter.

They got up and started to get out of the Godswood. Jon signalled for Gale, but she didn't land on his arm as he expected, she had chosen Sansa's shoulder instead.

"See, what did I tell you? She only graces me with her presence when the mood strikes her." He turned to Gale, "If you remember, Your Grace, it was I who had found you in the woods and nursed you back to health."

Gale turned her head away from him in reply as if she had better things to do than listening to the nonsense he was speaking. Jon sighed defeated and shook his head. Sansa was laughing seeing the bird and the young man acting all weird.

"You are an idiot!" She laughingly said.

Jon thought, he truly liked that sound of laughter.

*Line Break*

As he approached Lord Stark's solar, Jon's heart seemed to be burst out of his chest. He didn't know what to expect. He never thought he would be getting anything from his parents, ever, but here he is. He took a moment to compose himself before knocking on his uncle's doors.

During the mealtime, he had apologized to Theon for showing off at their archery challenge. He was at first hesitant to accept it, thinking it to be some trick, but later accepted his hand and shook it, albeit grudgingly. Jon offered him to return the money, but Theon refused, saying "A wager is a wager. I will take my money back from you some other day, on another wager, mayhaps."

Arya threw a tantrum after seeing Gale sitting on Sansa's shoulder. She wanted it to be her who the bird should get close to, Jon had a hard time make her understand that it entirely depended on Gale and he had nothing to do with it. Sansa kept a smug smile on her face throughout the meal and kept feeding Gale bits and pieces of meat while throwing Arya sneaky looks, making her angrier. Only pleading gazes from Jon made her stop bugging Arya any further.

Jon took a deep breath and knocked on the doors.

"Enter." Ned's voice came from the room.

Jon gulped and entered the room. He was shocked to see Lady Catelyn sitting there beside his uncle.

"I am sorry, My Lord, I would come back later."

It was Lady Stark who stopped him. "No, you don't have to leave. Your uncle had asked me to be present for this. Please, take a seat."

Jon sighed and sat down in front of the desk. "So, you know about it all then?"

Lady Catelyn nodded, "My Lord Husband finally deemed me worthy enough to know about it." She gave him a venomous glare, Ned looked down at his hands. "I can understand why he didn't tell me anything when he brought you home. I was new, he didn't know me. I was to marry your Uncle Brandon, not your Uncle Ned. I could relate to his hesitance. But what about afterwards? When I had come and lived in the North for a decade? When we have…" She choked down a sob, "We had five children together, and he still doesn't trust me. I am an outsider to him still." She broke down crying.

Jon rushed to her side and got to his knees. He was about to pat her hands when Sansa's words rang in his mind, so he just kept a hold of her hands instead, "Please, My Lady…Aunt, you don't have to cry…everything had turned out for better in the end, all the secrets out in the open…"

She looked up to him, "You don't understand, Aemon. I had cursed the unknown woman who had my husband's heart. Whenever I asked him about your mother, he had shut me out. I was afraid that one day, this woman will come back and he will set me aside for her…because his love for her is much deeper than he has for me. I was right, he loved her deeply, only it was a love a brother has for his sister. I was angry at him, at this woman…and I took that anger out on you, a motherless child. Family, Duty, Honour – these are the words of my house, Aemon. I had tried my absolute best to be a dutiful wife, to be a loving mother and raise my family with honour…but you, you have received none but undeserved scorns from me…I have failed – I have failed my family, my duties and honour, he made me a failure…"

"Please, My Lady, I am certain he had his reasons for not telling you…" He looked pleadingly at Ned, urging him to say something…anything.

Ned sighed and looked towards his crying wife, "Please try to understand me, Cat. When I reached the Tower of Joy, I didn't know what to expect…but I certainly didn't expect to see my little sister lying on her bed covered in blood. She had just given birth alone at that godforsaken place, with help from only a midwife. She put her newborn babe in my arms. 'Promise me, Ned,' she had asked me. She heard about the fate that befell Elia and her child, she knew Robert would kill him if he came to know. So I gave my word to my dying sister, I promised her that I would protect her son at all cost. I claimed him as my bastard. What is a stain in my honour against my words to her? When we came back, you were wroth about him, as any wife should for her husband's child outside of marriage bed. I had thought about telling you afterwards, but then I saw how your anger towards him gave him another layer of protection. I would have stayed quiet, if not his dragonblood flowed true…he came to know about my biggest secret all on his own, by the intellect his own and his blood…I would have never told him about his mother, only to keep him alive, unhappy mayhaps, but alive nonetheless…I would have made him take the Black…"

"Don't you dare, Eddard Stark!" Lady Catelyn had stood up so fast, her chair toppled over. Jon was almost knocked on his arse. He was sure that he could almost see smoke coming out of her flared nostrils.

"Don't you dare to send the rightful heir to the throne off to that frozen hell of criminals. I have to answer to my ancestors. Do you know that I had spent the entirety of last night begging forgiveness from the Mother, Father and Maiden for the wrongness you had compelled me to carry on? My Gods will never forgive me if I failed to protect my family…my entire family. I will not let you try and destroy the life of a young man, your sister's son – Lyanna's boy! I met her only for a short time at Harrenhal, but she accepted me into her family. She accepted me to be her good-sister. It will be over my dead body if I let her son spend his life amongst the scums of the kingdoms."

Jon was shocked beyond anything. He had seen Catelyn Stark as she doted on her children. He had seen her sneering at him, turning her hateful gazes at him all the times, throwing taunts and barbed words at his way. He had never expected her to be fighting with her husband for his future. Could he be wrong in truly knowing her?

"My Lady…Cat, please, let me explain…" Ned too had gotten up to his feet, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. Lady Stark again broke down in tears. Ned wrapped his arms around her. Jon turned away and went to the hearth, trying to tune out the murmurings of his uncle and aunt.

After everybody had calmed down, they retook their seats. Catelyn looked pale and broken. Jon had never seen her so defeated.

"You can write to Robert, Ned. You legitimize him, give him the Stark name. There are so many empty castles in North, you can make him a lord of any one of them. The other lords will not complain because of his growing reputation. Please, just don't send him away to waste his life."

Jon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This day was becoming more and more bizarre. The emotional upheavals he had faced throughout the day had made him tired, and he had yet to confront the past, with his parents' memories.

"My Lady…Aunt Catelyn, I thank you for your words. You cannot know how happy I am to have your acceptance after so long. I appreciate that you had let me live in your home when you didn't know the truth. I appreciate it even more now that you are going so far in offering me your name, a castle even, knowing full well how risky it is for your family if the truth comes out in the open. You have my heartfelt gratitude for all these. But for all intents and purposes, you were right in one thing, I am not a Stark. I can never become a Stark. Stark blood indeed flows through my veins, but it is mixed with dragonblood too. I am the last son of my father, for all I know, I am the last Targaryen. I can't let that name die out."

"Will you go for the Iron Throne?"

Jon turned his head away from them, looking at the fire in the hearth, "I don't know. That cursed seat had brought nothing but sorrow for my family…both of them. For now, I just want to travel, I want to see all this world has to offer…I want to make a name for myself."

Lady Stark reached out and took his hand in hers, "You are a good boy, Aemon. You are far wiser than your years."

Jon wanted to let the past lie in the past. He wanted to try this new closeness he was experiencing with his aunt, he squeezed her hand, "Jon for now, Aunt. I am not yet ready to bear a name that great…just like I said to the grumpy, old man here." He gave her a smirk.

"Careful, young man. Don't forget that I am your Lord still. I can have you punished for that slight."

"That is for the outside of that door. In here, you are just a doting old man who loves his children and nephew to the bits."

They all laughed at that, thankful for the levity that drove away from the gloom that thickened the air just a little while ago.

Ned cleared his throat, "Jon, it is time…"

Jon understood what he was trying to say, he took a deep breath to strengthen his resolve. Catelyn got up from her seat and came to stand beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Jon threw her a grateful look and nodded back to Ned.

Ned got up from his seat and went to the portrait of a Stark King of old behind the lord's desk. He pulled some levers and the portrait swung open revealing a vault hidden behind. Ned opened the vault with a very old looking key and brought out a chest. He carried it to the desk and set it down. He looked at Jon and sighed sadly.

"Inside of this chest, there are documents that I collected from the Tower of Joy, along with the stuff your mother said that Rheager had left behind for you before leaving for the war."

Jon kept looking at the chest, he was excited yet apprehensive of the things inside of it. Ned sighed again and opened the chest. Jon could see several things inside of it. But his focus was trained on a bunch of parchments that could be letters.

"Aye, those are the letters between Lyanna, Rheager and Elia. All of them."

Jon reached for the letters in a trance. He opened the first one and started to read.

He didn't know how long it took for him to read through all of them. The first of the letters were from his father and stepmother. They painted an image of the treacherous place that was Kings' Landing. They told how his father, in one of his disguised tour of the realms had come to meet his mother by fate. His father said he fell in love with her the first time he saw her. He said how it was for duty that he married Elia, but came to care for her deeply. Princess Elia had told in her letters how she would welcome the union if it came to be. How she was afraid for her daughter and her own life under the madness of Aerys. How the Queen and Rheager had smuggled in an orphan boy and called him Aegon only so that the Little Birds of Varys would be misdirected. The puzzle of the winter roses came clear as it was Elia who had managed for a supply of those flowers at the tourney. She had hinted about it in her letter to his mother, almost teasing her about the surprise that awaited her there. The tone of the letters became frantic about the news of the betrothal between Robert and Lyanna. Rhaeger assuring her that everything would be alright, Elia telling her that she was urging Rhaeger almost continuously to make haste with his plans. When the Rebellion started, Elia said in her letters how much she was fearing for everyone, she wanted to send Rhaenys to Dorne, not to her brothers, but Lyanna. It sounded from her letters that she didn't expect to be alive after everything was over. She had urged Lyanna to take care of her daughter, Rhaeger, their soon to be born child…and also her brothers. She told her that if something indeed happened to her, how Prince Doran would confine himself and wouldn't let anybody see how much he was hurting. How Prince Oberyn would rage and curse, and in the end, would completely break down. She asked her to take care of her brothers for her.

The last of the letters was from Lyanna herself, it was addressed to her child. Jon had uncontrolled tears running down his cheeks by then. Reading about Rhaeger and Elia was beyond any of his expectations. He tried to open the letter of his mother, but couldn't manage it with his trembling hands. He held out the letter towards Catelyn, who had also been reading the letters with him. She too had a tear-streaked face, she nodded at Jon and took the letter to break the seal. She looked at Jon and he nodded, permitted her to read it. She cleared her throat and started to read the letter aloud.

My dearest sweet child,

You are yet to see the light of this world while I am writing this letter to you. Your father thinks you to be a girl, but I can feel that I will have a strong and handsome baby boy in my arms just in a few days.

We are so very eager to meet you, your father, step-mother, your big sister, and of course me, your mother. You will have a big family, you also have uncles, lots of them.

You also had one uncle who is not in this world anymore. He and your grandfather, my father, had left us behind. There are a few bad men who wanted to see our families suffer.

Your stepmother thinks that she will not be here to welcome you. She wanted to send your sister to us. But your other grandfather, your father's father, had stopped her. We don't know how they are faring anymore.

I am all alone here, far from my home, even your father had left me behind. But I have three brave men looking after me. They too are very eager to see you. One of them, your father's best friend, your Uncle Arthur told me that he will teach you how to wield a sword even before you start to walk. But don't you worry, I will beat him with the biggest stick I can find if he forces you.

I fear for your father, my sweet one. He and your Uncle Ned are fighting. We never wanted everything to turn so horrible. We had left a letter for your Uncle Brandon and your Grandfather Rickard that we are leaving. The boy said he knew your uncle very well and he will make sure that they get the letter. I don't know what happened afterwards.

Now I pray to the Gods that you live. Even if I am not there to see you, even if your father fails to reach you, I pray that you live and be the best you can. And if there are people who managed to cause us harm, I am sure you will make them pay for their follies. You will make it so that they know that Winter has come for them, with Fire and Blood.

Be brave, my sweet. You are the blood of wolves and dragons. You are our Song of Ice and Fire. Your father believes that you are destined to be the protector of all men. He believes in his prophecies, but I believe in the mettle of men. I know you will become the warrior that everybody will fear to stand up to. I know you will protect the helpless, you will care for your fellow men. You will be the Hero that everyone needs.

I hope I am there when you read this letter, if not, I love you, my son. Your father loves you. Your stepmother loves you. Your sister loves you. Your uncles will love you. You are all of our pride and joy.

Your loving mother,

Lyanna Targaryen (of House Stark)

Lady Catelyn held a sobbing Jon close to her chest. He was crying for the family he lost. The parents, sibling he never met. He cried for his uncle and grandfather. He cried for the mother who had so high hopes for him. He made a vow that he will fulfil her promise. He will make the people who brought his families down pay, he will make sure that Winter comes for them, with the vengeance of Fire and Blood.

Jon wiped his eyes and face, in a gruff voice he asked, "Who?"

Lord Stark looked at him askance.

"Who was it that she left the letter with?"

"I don't know, son, I was at the Vale when they eloped. I only came back to the North after your Uncle Brandon and your Grandfather had died." He looked towards Catelyn.

"I don't know either, Jon. Brandon had just reached Riverrun for our wedding. Then suddenly he was riding off with only a few friends with him. We didn't know where he went, only knew that he was yelling about killing someone for bringing shame to his family. Months later, we come to know about his captivity at the Capitol…and afterwards, all of the Seven Hells had broken free."

Jon was pacing around the room, "That boy…man, whoever he was, he incited everything that happened. He either never delivered her letter, or he changed the message, sending everything to the Hells. I want to know who he was."

Ned too was trying to think about the identity of the man, "He may not even be alive now, son. Many had died, many had left these lands forever. We may never know his identity."

Jon was standing by the hearth, eyes trained to the flames, "If he is alive, I will find him, and I will make him pay for everything. My mother demanded it."

The room was silent for a long time.

"There are still some things left in the chest, Jon."

Jon sighed and came back to his seat. Ned reached inside of the chest and pulled a garment out. It was a cloak, emblazoned with the dire wolf sigil of House Stark.

"Is that…?"

"Aye, I believe this is your mother's maiden cloak."

Jon held the cloak close to his nose, he could almost smell a faint scent of winter roses, his mother's smell.

Underneath the cloak, they found a declaration of marriage between Rheager of House Targaryen and Lyanna of House Stark, the marriage was conducted by a Septon Maynard, witnessed by Ser Arthur of House Dayne.

There was another certificate, this one was the declaration of the birth of a child of House Targaryen. The name Aemon was put in by his Uncle Ned's handwriting.

"Jon, I am sure this one will ease your mind a bit…"

Jon looked at his uncle to find him holding out a sword for him. Curious, he grabbed it and took it out of its scabbard. It was a beautiful longsword. The blade was dark and with distinctive rippling patterns, screaming of its Valyrian make. It had golden crossguards in the shapes of flame. A big ruby decorated in the middle of the crossguards. The pommel of the sword appeared to be shaped like a claw of a dragon. The slimmer build of the sword was proof enough of its identity.

"The Dark Sister!" Jon's voice was full of wonderment.

"Aye, one of the two swords of your House. It is said to be lost since the Blackfyre Rebellion. Your father somehow found it and left it to be wielded by you."

He swung it around to test the blade. It was so light that he felt as if he was wielding his dagger. Its edges were as sharp as the day it was forged. Satisfied, he put it back in its scabbard and turned towards Ned.

"My father left it for me?"

"Aye, he did."

Jon nodded, "Then I am changing its name...for now at least. Too many heads will be turned and will put us all under unnecessary scrutiny if they see me with this blade."

"What do you want to call it then?"

Jon thought for a while, then he offered the sword back to his uncle. "You have your Ice, I have my Frost."

Ned nodded appreciatively and held the sword.

"Do you think Mikken can discreetly make a new pommel for it?"

"Aye, it can be done. What do you want it to be?"

Jon gave him a feral smile, "A wolf's head, of course!"

Ned's smile back to him was just as feral.

A sudden loud gasp brought their attention back to the third person present in the room. Catelyn had a hand covering her mouth, looking inside of the chest. Ned looked at her and dropped his head in realization.

"Aye, his father had also left that for him."

Curious, Jon went back to the chest. Ned reached in and brought out an oval-shaped stone. It was bigger than Jon's head, white of colour with red dots adorning it all over. Intricate scale patterns covered it fully.

"What is it?"

Catelyn replied in a quivering voice, "It is a dragon egg. I have only read about them. But none of the books told of an egg this big!"

Jon took the egg in his hands. Shocked, he looked up to his Aunt and Uncle.

"I think it's alive!"