A Bear's Roar

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The Following TWELVE Chapters are available for Patrons.

Chapter 42 (Where it All Began), Chapter 43 (Harrenhal), Chapter 44 (A Feast and A Queen), Chapter 45 (Queen Rhaella and The Hidden Prince), Chapter 46 (My Name is Aemon Targaryen), Chapter 47 (Jenny of Old Stone), Chapter 48 (A Sister's Love), Chapter 49 (Arianne's Passion), Chapter 50 (Trial by Combat), Chapter 51 (Happiness), Chapter 52 (The Calm), and Chapter 53 (The Melee) are already available for Patrons.

"All crows are liars."

Jon

After dancing more with Val, she wasn't stepping on his foot anymore; her eyes weren't leaving his eyes. It felt as if there were the only people in the hall dancing together, his grey eyes looking back at her. Val felt silly doing this; dancing wasn't something the Wildling didn't do; there was a day once a year in the Wildling culture; on that day, they would celebrate surviving and hoping that one day they would be South of the Wall. Whoever was good at singing would sing while the others made moves around. On that day, wildling often steals their partner.

Val felt her cheeks heating up at the way Jon was looking at her, and she hated herself for it, leaning close, so no one could see her face except Jon, she didn't mind even if he saw her like this, but no one else had the right to look at her in this situation.

After dancing some more, Val noticed people were changing partners, and she instantly frowned; Val didn't want to dance with anyone else; she didn't care if it was a simple dance, suddenly they saw one of the Bear women approach them, Val had to admit the woman in front of them would quickly gain quite a reputation back at the camp, unlike every other southern woman Val had seen so far, this one clearly had strength behind her body, it wasn't just a pretty face with a dress.

"Jon Snow, I was hoping we could dance?" The woman questioned with a bright smile across her face. Val looked at her carefully and was a little surprised to see a mace leaning against the chair the woman had been sitting on a minute ago. Val knew the mace was quite heavy just by the looks of it, and if someone wanted to use it on fighting, they needed to be able to use it freely without much effort.

Dacey is six feet tall, a lanky woman who finds herself at ease in a lady's garb or in leather armor. Despite her long features, Dacey remained elegant in dress and dance; she was six feet tall. She was wearing a long green dress with the house mormont sigil stitched on the front. Full lips, long dark hair like a crow, a small nose with light blue eyes, a long and beautiful face, long strong fingers that she probably used to lift her mace, as tall as Jon, and a bit taller than Val, who was 5.7 feet tall.

"You are?" Jon questioned; Val looked intrigued; she could see why they were warriors.

"Dacey Mormont of Bear Island, just call me Dacey." She said sharply before her eyes settled on Val, who looked back at her.

"You are, my lady?" She questioned with a little smile of her own; just like Val, Dacey could tell the woman in front of her was a warrior, and her eyes could see the hidden dagger in her white clothes; she had to give credit to her, sadly she wasn't into blades, she preferred a mace, and that one can't be hidden.

"Just Val, I'm no Lady," Val answered quickly, looking a bit annoyed, but she quickly masked her annoyance with a small smile; she knew South of the Wall, everyone called each other that for some unknown reason, she knew she would eventually get used to it, probably.

Dacey raised an eyebrow at her accent; it sounded northern but a bit stronger. She quickly remembered she had heard that accent before, and only from Wildlings that had attacked them a few times. Dacey looked at the woman's features, her choice of clothes, and the hidden dagger, but the biggest hint was her blonde hair like honey. No one in The North had that hair color, everyone had brown, dark, ash, or other variations of black color, except Lord Stark's children, that had auburn hair like a Southern, but no one had blonde hair. Her light blue eyes shifted between Jon and Val.

Shaking her head to get rid of her thoughts, she figured she was overthinking this, and even if she wasn't, Lord Stark must have approved her.

"I would like a dance, My lord if she doesn't mind?" Dacey questioned, looking back at Jon, but it seemed Val was fine with it.

"You can dance with him as long as we have a spar later?" Val asked with a challenging look; her accent made her sound more dangerous. Dacey smirked at her challenge; she wouldn't mind it.

"Of course, tomorrow morning would be a good time," Dacey accepted with a smile. Val kissed Jon on the cheek before walking back to her seat.

Dacey offered her hand to Jon, who grabbed it. She smiled at the feeling of his strong hand; her eyes looked back at him as they started dancing.

"I didn't know you were married, my lord," Dacey started the discussion, their legs moving around along with the song; despite being good at fighting, Dacey was just as good at dancing and acting like a lady.

She could tell from how they looked at each other that Val wasn't just Jon's betrothal.

"Yes, My Lady, I have known Val for four years. We married three weeks ago," Jon replied quickly; Dacey hummed upon hearing that.

Jon and Dacey kept dancing, talking about the upcoming Tourney in Harrenhall; she asked if he would enter the Tourney.

"I will. I will enter the Meele, The Singing, and The Jousting," Jon replied with a soft smile. Dacey raised an eyebrow at the mention of Jousting. Northern wasn't known to be good at Jousting, they were good at fighting, but unlike the South, they didn't have Tourneys every year.

"I will enter Meele too; it seems we will be fighting side by side," Dacey informed him with a low sweet voice.

Hearing that she would enter the Tourney took Jon by surprise, but soon he smiled, delighted to know that Val wouldn't be the only woman who would participate in the Tourney.

"Do you think I can't do well in a tourney, my lord?" She questioned with a flirty smile across her face that showed her beautiful teeth.

Jon chuckled at hearing that; he could tell what she was doing. "My wife is proof enough that you can do just as well as anyone else. We will enter the tourney too," Jon explained with a soft smile that Dacey quite liked looking at, her eyes quickly checking out his body; despite wearing clothes, she could tell that he was quite muscular, but her eyes quickly settled on his grey eyes.

Dacey hummed in approval upon hearing that. "That's good to hear. It seemed tomorrow morning would be even more fun than I thought," Dacey said with a low husky tone. Jon felt shivers in his spine hearing her voice.

Val

Watching her husband dance with Dacey should have made her angry, but instead, her eyes were focused on how everyone was dancing; a part of her wanted to dance just as well as them. She knew it was silly to think that, but she didn't want to step on his foot the next time they danced together. She didn't know why. It wasn't needed for survival, yet, she wanted to know how to dance. She didn't know why.

Hearing someone clearing their throat, she turned to see the woman who had been sitting beside Dacey.

The woman was a short, stout, grey-haired, and fierce warrior. She dresses in patched ringmail, and her favored weapon is a spiked mace. Val could tell from her eyes that she was a fierce fighter; despite her age, she knew this one was fearless.

"Might I sit here, my lady?" The woman questioned with a strong tone, but the wildling could tell the woman would sit even if she said No. Val nodded right away; the woman sat beside her but not in Jon's seat.

Once she sat, she moved her chair a bit closer to Val. She leaned close to Val, but her eyes and face were directed at Jon. "What is a Wildling like you doing here?" The woman questioned sharply with a demanding tone. Val's hand went to the hidden dagger in her clothes, but the woman's hand grabbed her wrist before she could do anything.

"No need to draw blades, my lady. I didn't come here for a senseless fight," the woman spoke slowly, her tone low but sharp at the same time. Val's eyes looked around the hall, trying to see if anyone else was suspicious of her, but it seemed the only one was Jon and his dancing partner.

"Freefolk," Val corrected, not looking at the woman, who muttered something under her breath, but Val didn't hear her.

"A Freefolk then, my question still stands. What do you want here, married to a son of the North?" She questioned her voice only a whisper. Only Val could hear her. The blonde free folk didn't turn her head to face the woman, nor did she.

The old bear was simply looking at her daughter dancing with Jon. Her heart hurt a little knowing her daughter had yet to find a suitable husband; she hoped her daughter would find someone of the South, they usually never married South, but at this point, she just wanted her daughter to be happy, which was a tough thing to accomplish in a world like theirs.

"Who are you?" Val questioned her, her voice cold like the wall.

"Maege Mormont, girl." Maege answers right away with a hint of mockery that has the desired result.

"I'm not a girl, Maege," Val answered coldly, her hand grasping the pommel of her dagger, glaring at her; the old bear simply left out a chuckle.

"No need to reach for your blade. We are simply having a conversation. Now, why are you here? I know Lord Stark, and I doubt he hasn't seen right through you." Maege kept talking. Her eyes briefly flickered at Ned, who was talking something with Wyman.

"When Jon stole me, I became his, and I followed him," Val replied quickly. She didn't want to tell her of her true reason, yet, to bring the Freefolk south of the wall before it was too late. Jon had promised her he would do it, but Val knew she would still follow him even if there were no promises. Val told herself, briefly remembering her sister; she could almost see her tears, holding a pale, unmoving baby in her arms.

The first time, a baby of one day, as cold as snow. The second time, a boy of one winter, a common sickness, that's all it took to take away the smile her sister had on her face. The boy was frozen and later burned by her sister to not allow him to become one of them. Since that day, her sister hadn't smiled as often as before.

Maege, on the other hand, didn't know what she meant by 'Jon stole me,' but she doubted the boy had raped the girl, and from the girl's face and general appearance, she didn't look like someone who hated Jon, despite her age, she could still see quite well, she could see the way the free folk girl was looking at Jon.

It reminded her of how her own husband used to look at her before his eyes closed forever.

"Is that so? Well, as long as you're not using him, then I have nothing against your marriage." Maege spoke genuinely, her eyes looking at the prince. Her daughter seemed to enjoy her time, while the boy looked to feel a little uncomfortable. Maege had to stop herself from laughing.

"We are not like the kneelers. I would never use him for my own benefit," Val said with resolve in her eyes and voice.

"You might call yourself Free people, but I know you see the benefit of having rules you shouldn't break, don't you?" Maege spoke, turning her head to face Val, who kept her jaw closed, knowing she had a point.

"While it's good to have freedom, that same freedom can make people think that they're allowed to do anything they want and think they can have everything or anyone. Those castles you see wouldn't have been built if there were no rules." Maege spoke with cold fury, she didn't hate the Wildlings, but she despised the Ironborns. She felt her fingers digging deep into her palm. The bloody Iron Islands, a part of her hoped one day, the islands would be swallowed by the waves along with their people.

"That might be true, but we are free to live however we want, despite what you might think. I will never regret the day Jon stole me," Val said with clear resolve and passion, her eyes looking back at Jon, who had stopped his dancing with Dacey.

Maege smiled upon hearing that. "I wish you a good life with beautiful and Strong children," Maege said, raising her glass of wine. Val smiled, feeling a little relieved, her hand instinctively rubbing her belly, hoping that Jon's seed had taken root in her and soon she would give him a beautiful boy or girl. She could almost see them, a child with Val's hair and Jon's handsome face, and as powerful as he was. Beautiful and fearless.

Maege stood up from her seat; as Jon walked up to them, he greeted Maege, who simply smiled at him, knowing her daughter had told him about meeting her in God's Wood.

Once Jon sat beside her, Val grasped his hand, her other hand turning his chin to face her; before he could utter a word, she claimed his lips; Jon was a little surprised that she did that here but quickly returned the kiss, Val almost moaned when his tongue wanted to seek entrance in her mouth, but she pulled away before their lust could completely overwhelm them.

"Val?" Jon said, confused; his wife simply smiled, with a smile across her face.

"Nothing, I just wanted to do that," Val said before returning back to her meal.

"What did you talk with, Dacey?" She questioned after a minute of silence. Jon chuckled slightly, taking a sip of wine. He noticed that Val was avoiding alcohol.

"She said Lady Maege wanted to talk with me about something. She said to meet her in the God's Wood an hour later," Jon answered, eating steak and drinking wine.

Jon saw Robb talking with his betrothal, Bran, despite his age, was talking with Lady Wylla, and Arya was sitting beside them listening. Sansa was talking with her friend Jeyne Poole, sometimes pointing her finger at either Wylla or Wynafryd.

Later

Reaching the god's wood, the sun had just started descending; soon, it would be night, and the sky had taken a shade of auburn. Jon looked up at the sky, he could swear he could see a dark comet, but it quickly disappeared. Jon suddenly felt a shiver in his entire body, the same feeling he had when he faced the Ice Spider.

Blood Traitor

Jon looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. Yet, he couldn't see anyone, only trees, their branches blocking the moon's light. Jon's grey eyes caught someone looking at him from the trees, a dark figure. Jon wanted to walk toward the figure, but his body froze. Mismatched Eyes were looking back at him, One Dark Blue, the other Bright Green. Jon couldn't see the face; he felt a shiver in his body; Cold, Cold, he thought, as his breathing rapid, shivering.

Crows and Crowns, they are all Liars, Blood of The Weaked, Blood of The Dragon, Blood of The Sea. Seek nothing but the Dark Stone.

Don't trust the Crow, Don't Trust the Crown, To Fly you must Descend, to Live you must accept Death.

Jon couldn't feel his heart. All he could feel was the mismatched eyes looking back at him. Jon felt everything spinning, the snowy ground rushing towards him.

.

.

.

.

Jon felt the snow beneath his face, not the cold, forcing himself to stand up. He couldn't see them, the Prince's eyes desperately tried to find them, but the eyes were gone.

Jon felt Kessa and Ghost nearby; Aegarax was sleeping far away in the mountains surrounding the Neck. He wondered why they haven't come to him to help. They could feel when the other was in danger, yet, neither of his companions came to him. Jon took a deep breath; he couldn't tell if he had Dreamed.

Calming himself, Jon decided to ignore it for now. From the tree branch, a Crow looked at Jon before flying towards the castle.

Reaching God's Wood, Lady Maege was there awaiting him. She stood up from the root she was sitting to face him. As soon as he arrived, she kneeled in front of him.

"My prince, I'm so happy to see you again," She spoke, still kneeling in front of him, waiting for him to say something.

Jon was lost for words; this was the first time someone had kneeled and addressed him this way. Val had addressed him as such, but it was more playful rather than actually addressing him as a Prince of the Realm.

"Stand up, Lady Mormont," Jon ordered; she looked at him with a smile, her eyes scanning his features.

"How did you know I knew the truth?" Jon asked after a short pause, wondering if his uncle had informed her that he knew about his identity.

"Lord Stark told me when he arrived." She quickly answered, stepping forward to get a better look at him.

"You look so much like her, My Prince. Your eyes are Lady Lyanna's eyes," she said softly, a tone Jon enjoyed hearing, a part of him wondering if that is how a mother talks to a child.

"Call me Jon, my lady." Jon quickly said, not wanting any barrier between them, especially with someone who knew his mother like a good friend. They both sat across each other.

"Did you know her, my lady?" Jon asked, looking away, a little embarrassed; Maege laughed at his blushed face.

"Call me Maege then, and Yes, I knew her well. She was like a daughter to me; she was a free spirit, and her smile, beauty, and courage were like a bright star for The North. Everyone in the North loved her," Maege said with a little smile.

Maege then proceeded to tell Jon everything about Lyanna and how she had been devastated when the news arrived about her being "Kidnapped" by Prince Rhaegar.

"After the rebellion ended, when your father told everyone the truth. I was relieved to know your mother was still alive, but when the news came of her unfortunate death and her child. I-I was devastated, everyone was, my daughters helped me to pass through it." Maege finished her story, but only the presence of the Prince stopped her from shedding tears; the memory of Lyanna was still a sour subject for her. She swallowed hard; she didn't want to look weak, not in front of him.

Jon smiled sadly, hearing her words. A tear rolled down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away with his sleeve; he looked up at her, both sitting in a root of the Weirwood Tree.

"How did you recognize me?"

"Do you remember the day we went riding?" Maege asked with a melancholy look on her face. Jon's answer was a simple nod.

"When I saw you riding your horse, at that moment, I knew you were her son. Only Lyanna could ride like that. When she mounted her horse, she and the horse became one. She was the best rider the North had seen for a very long time," and when I heard you singing, I knew you were the King's son, Maege, though, but didn't say it.

"W-Why did you not tell me?" Jon asked, looking a bit hurt; Maege closed her eyes tightly, forcing herself to keep herself strong; looking at his grey eyes, she felt like she was looking at Lyanna as if she was the one who was asking her instead of her son—judging her for allowing her son to live six more years as a bastard.

"I wanted to your grace. I truly wanted to, but I first wanted to confront Lord Stark; he told me the truth and then begged me to give him a few more years to prepare Robb Stark and his family. To prepare his son to rule the North. I-I accepted," Maege confessed, looking directly at grey eyes of Jon. She could hardly bare to look at him. She felt like she had wronged her own flesh and bones.

"I know I should have told you, your grace. I know the treason I committed is unforgivable. I will accept whatever punishment you want for me," Maege finished, accepting her fate. She knew she deserved it, but despite that, she didn't allow herself to shed tears; her husband had been the one and only one who had seen her crying and the only one she felt comfortable enough to show all her emotions. No one else would.

Jon took a deep breath to think clearer. There were many things that could have gone differently in the past fourteen years. His uncle could have simply given him to his real family, and Maege could have told him the truth right away. The Ice Spider could have killed him that night; there were many ways this could have gone differently.

Looking at Lady Maege, he knew she should have told him the truth, but because he went north, he met Val and Aegarax. He wouldn't have if he had known the truth; somehow, it felt like Bloodraven had known just what to say and do, to tell him to leave only one year before Lord Stark actually told him the truth and then leave him alone in the middle of the woods which resulted on him meeting the Wildlings, it felt as if Bloodraven knew just what to do for things to happen a certain way, Jon wondered if there was anything else he had done that he didn't know, one thing Jon could remember was the leader of Thenn Clan suddenly wanting to challenge him instead of Mance Rayder.

Jon quickly dismissed the thought, for now, his great uncle had helped him to claim Aegarax, and have another Valyrian Sword, despite its strange origin, existing before The Empire of Valyrian existed! The Prince trusted his uncle; he only wanted what was good for House Targaryen. He had saved him when from the sickness.

Jon's attention turned to Lady Maege, there were only one or two people that deserved punishment, and Lady Maege wasn't one of them. Jon stood up from the root tree and walked up to her, extending his hand toward her.

"I forgive you, Lady Maege Mormont. Lord Stark was the one who took me away from my life, not you, my lady. You simply wanted Lord Robb to be more prepared and not be in power when he was only eight name days." Jon said with sincerity. Lady Maege accepted his hand before they both shared a hug.

She held him close as if he was her own child, reminding her of a time when she used to hold Lyanna like this.

Stepping away, Maege's saddened face turned to a more serious one. "My prince. I don't know what will happen during the Tourney, but House Mormont will stand with you. You have my word." Maege promised in front of the Weirwood Tree.

Night

As soon as he arrived at his bedchamber, Jon was forced against the wall; it took a moment for him to recognize Val. A coy smile on her beautiful face.

"Val?"

The Wildling Princess said nothing but claimed his lips, her tongue seeking entrance right away; Jon was surprised by her dominant side.

Eventually, the need for air forced them to stop, both of them looking into each other's eyes. "I want you Now!" Val commanded.

Note: Jon forgiving Maege doesn't mean he's also forgiving Lord and Lady Stark.

Dacey won't be with Jon. She will be with someone else.