In The Shadows Hides The Dragon GoT fanfic

Thirteenth day of the fith moon of 297 AC Winterfell, North of Westeros

"He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind" A GoT-Jon III

Today it was the day that Jon turned five and ten days of his name. And the day was passing like any other day of his life as the Bastard of Winterfell. When he went to broke his fast in the Great Hall of Winterfell, he only received a brief congratulation from his little sister, Arya.

Although from distance, because before Arya could attempt to rise from the table to go towards him Lady Catelyn gave Arya a stern look that warned of the consequences that could have approach to hug her half-brother. Robb nodded to him from the lord's table atop the dais of the great Hall. Jon returned the nod and sat at one of the tables that corresponded to the servants. Giving quick account of that morning's breakfast; three hard-boiled eggs, with fried bread and a slice of bacon and a plate of wrinkled plums.

Glancing around the great hall, Jon realized that except for him, there was hardly anyone at the tables below the dais and his father had not yet arrived. Jon's little brothers, Bran and Rickon had

not yet finished waking up and they forced breakfast as best they could, while Sansa ate her breakfast with the elegance and poise of a great lady, the perfect daughter of Lady Tully. The latter looking at Jon with a face as if she had choked on a lemon.

'What have I done to this woman to make her hate me?' Jon wondered over and over again in his head.

As much as Jon tried to understand why Lady Tully's infinite hatred of him, he could only find explanation in that Catelyn Tully saw him as if Jon were Daemon Blackfyre reborn. As if he were the one whom one day would steal what belongs to Lady Catelyn's children. Or maybe Jon had it all wrong, and Lady Tully hated him because of her faith. Lady Catelyn believes in the Southern Gods, the Seven who are One, who see bastards a byproducts children of lust and debauchery.

'Maybe she's not so wrong in the last things.' Jon sometimes thought.

Great passions must have been aroused by Jon's mother so that the honorable Eddard Stark would tarnish his honor and reputation and after that, he would never speak about her again. Even to Jon. When he was a little child, a rumor spread about his possible mother. Due to the particular shade of his eyes, added to the fact that Lord Eddard after rescuing his sister Lyanna from captivity had gone to return Ser Arthur Dayne's sword, Dawn, to its rightful home, Starfall, Jon's mother shoud be Ashara Dayne. This was supported by the fact that after visiting Starfall, Eddard Stark returned to Winterfell with the remains of his sister Lyanna and a bastard son.

'Myself, Jon Snow.'

However, after a conversation between Jon's father and Lady Tully-Stark at the lord's solar, the rumor disappeared. Making it clear that Ashara Dayne was not Jon's mother and that name was never mentioned again in Winterfell.

'Who would my mother be? What would she be like? What act did she commit so terrible that Lord Eddard Stark couldn't tell me who she is?' Jon sighed, returning for a moment to his breakfast.

'Stupid, she sure was a whore and that's why he doesn't say anything. The stain of Eddard Stark with a whore, that's what I am.' Jon answered to himself bitterly.

Having lost all appetite due to his train of thought, he got up from the table and left in the direction of the forge. He still got time until morning training with Ser Rodrik Cassel and surely there, Jon could help Mikken with something or the other. In that way, one day he could ask to the smith for the favor he wanted for Arya's name day.

Although no one would give Jon anything for his name day, Arya's name day was yet to come and Jon wanted to have the ideal gift for his little sister. He also knew that this would surely be the last day of her name that he would be with Arya.

In a year surely Jon would be on the wall, being a ranger of the NigthsWatch, while Sansa and Arya would sure be betrothed to some heir of a powerful lord,

'Poor sod the one who has to deal with Arya.' Jon thought amused sometimes. Other times, Jon felt afraid for his little sister fate. 'Father surely would not make someone in the family marry a man without honor, he is not like that.' He always convinced himself internally about Arya's future.

In a year Robb would continue to prepare for his duties as the heir. Something which required endless hours with maester Luwin and, for Jon's grief and some jealousy, though never expressed, father's company and guidance. Bran someday, perhaps would leave for the Vale to be a squire for

his uncle, Brynden Tully, the infamous Blackfish. While the little wolf from the pack, Rickon, would stay in Winterfell, being a nightmare for the maester and his lady mother.

He accepted what future had in store for him. It was not what he wanted, but he was a bastard, wanting things wasn't within Jon's reaching.

If he felt something about his present and future situation, above all, Jon felt emptiness and sorrow at the future that awaited him. He felt anguiss to know that he would never have a place with along his family and that he would never have a family of his own because he had no place in the world.

Since he was able to understand what it meant to be a bastard, thanks to Sansa, Jon vowed that he would never beget one on a woman. He couldn't be so cruel to put a child through what he had been through.

And as far as how bastards fare in the Seven Kingdoms, he had been lucky. Without his father's honor, Jon would surely have ended up abandoned or in a ditch on the side of a road shortly after coming into the world.

The sun was not yet at its zenith when Jon finished helping Mikken at the forge. So he went first to the stables for a while. He liked to help Hodor take care of the horses and soothing the mounts of Winterfell.When he galloped through Wolf's Wood it was one of the moments when he felt most free from his burdens.That is why he always tried to give back something that only horses could provide to him.

'The feel of being free from every one of my burdens. Free of being a blemish in Lord Eddard's life.'

Once he finished in the stables, still with some time before his presence was required in the courtyard Jon went to the kennels where Winter was with her pups. Arya would probably be there, so his little sister could congratulate Jon in the way she wants. Without the censorious look from the bane of Jon's life in the area. The mother of Jon's little sister.

Sadly for him, when Jon got there, only Farlen was there. The kennel master greeted him cheerfully when saw him.

"Hello lad!" the kennel master said, whereupon clapped Jon's right shoulder. "A little she-wolf has told me, that today is a special day for you and she has left me something to give you."

Farlen gave Jon a blue rose of those that only grew in the Winterfell glass-garden. Jon knew that if Arya could, she would gift Jon a castle, but the fact that she remembered his name day was enough.

"By the way, the runt of the litter opened its eyes today, Snow. It seems that in the end you were right and it would live like the rest of them." Said Farlen in a playful tone.

At hearing this news, Jon could almost hug Farlen with joy. Knowing that his Direwolf pup was finally okay was the best gift they could ever give Jon for his name day.

"Thank you Farlen, thank you!" he said to the kennel master while clapping the man's left shoulder. "By the way if you see Arya again, can you tell her to look for me in the courtyard?"

"Yes lad. Now off with you. Go to your wolf before Ser Rodrik miss you." replied the northern kennels' master with a kind smile.

Jon then almost ran towards the fluffy white fur-ball that was farthest from the other pups and their

mother. Winter. The huge she-Direwolf with gray fur and yellow eyes, reached in height a little below Jon's shoulder and looked like the sigil of House Stark personified on the world, followed Jon's every move with her gaze. Ready to pounce on him should he do something wrong to the albino pup.

Under the watchful stare of the huge she-wolf, Jon picked up his pup and, he couldn't help but gasp slightly. Gaping at what Jon had in front of the eyes. Jon's wolf was not only albino, mute and the runt of the litter. Jon's pup was unlike any animal on the planet.

"Ghost, that's what your name is going to be. You like it?." He said tenderly, while running his fingers through the fur of Ghost's head and neck.

The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon's face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the light from the torches and shone like two great red suns.

Red eyes. Ghost had a weirwood's eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups Winter gave birth in the late summer snows; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow. Jon had never felt such a connection with anything or anyone in his life. He felt as if a part of him had been filled.

However the routine of Jon's daily life had to continue. So Jon left Ghost with his litter brothers and sisters, heading to train with Robb and the seven-time cursed Theon Greyjoy. All under the supervision of Ser Rodrik Cassel. The old Knight was a patient teacher. Capable of drilling them different forms to fight and always had wise advice on how to fight with honor. But Jon knew that when it comes the times when one is fighting another man for their life, honor has no place, only survival.

That is why after each workout, Jon 'lost' himself for hours in the First Keep. There, near its top, Jon found a great hall abandoned for centuries where with only the crows as witnesses, he practiced for endless hours with a jagged tournament sword against an old fallen column of solid oak.

Thanks to Jon's training and eagerness to be the best at whatever he did, even if he could never show it, Jon suspected he was infinitely superior to any man with the sword in Winterfell.

'But I can't prove it. Lest is a prove from my evils ways as bastard.' Jon mused inwardly.

"Good morning Snow." Ser Rodrik greeted Jon with a disapproving frown when Jon arrived with the training already started, while the knight watched as Robb and Theon were having the first of the day's duels.

"Good morning Ser." Jon replied with a slight nod of the head in deference.

"Why are you so late Snow? You should have arrived almost half an hour ago." Winterfell's master

at arms asked Jon, at the same moment that Robb and his strength began to overpower the squid.

"I was in the kennels, seeing my Direwolf." Jon replied quickly and curtly to the old knight.

"See that doesn't happen again, Snow. If one day you find yourself facing a battle, it will start with or without you." the knight replied Jon in a dry tone, to then add in louder voice. "Enough you two. Now that Snow has come, Robb who was about to win will face him, thus warming up Snow's muscles soon. Greyjoy, you can practice with the practice target."

That was the signal for go where the blunt swords were. Among these, he chose a hand and a half sword. After that, he donned a padded gambeson and picked up one of the rhomboid shields that

were at the feet of the armors' shelf.

He tightened the shield bridles on his left forearm, while with his right hand absently twirled the sword to check the weight and balance.

'This will do.' He affirmed himself.

Since their spars lately consisted in not thrust lunges or slashes above the shoulders, today they

weren't wearing helms.

As he continued to absently twirl the sword, Jon framed himself with his brother Robb. "Ready to lose, Snow?" Robb asked Jon, as they both squared up to face off.

At one point in Jon's life, he would have been bothered that Robb called him Snow. But since that day when they had seven days of their name and his brother made clear that Jon could never inherit Winterfell because Jon was a bastard, he began to understand that no matter how much Robb tried and Jon turned a blind eye on certain things, their relationship would never go beyond being cordial, though increasingly distant.

With Theon's arrival and years later, with the squid's fondness for the women of Wintertown, especially those of its brothel, the distance between Jon and Robb continued to grow.

"I'll try to make it difficult for you, Stark." He quipped in merry way. Or merry for Jon's usual icy steel tones.

Despite Jon's at times internal contradictory feelings about him, Robb was Jon's brother and Jon would never hurt him. He would do everything in his power to protect their family. Even Lady Tully. Imagining the pain that would inflict Jon's family if something happened to their mother, made any serious animosity he felt for the Trout, diminish considerably.

Inspecting both his blunt sword and his surroundings Jon saw that his father, Lady Tully and Maester Luwin were in the gallery that overlooked the courtyard, watching the training.

Lord Eddard, when felt Jon's eyes on him, returned an affectionate smile towards him.

Although the affection didn't seems to finish reaching Jon's father's eyes. Whenever Jon's father looked at him that way, especially on his name days, Jon felt as if his father looked at him with a mixture of love and infinite sorrow. Something that Jon did not quite understand where it came from.

'It can't be because I remind him of my mother, because everyone says that if it weren't for my eyes and my lanky and slender complexion, I am almost identical to my father when he was in the Vale.'

Those were Jon's thoughts and doubts when the sibling spar began.

"Don't worry if you lose Jon, it's normal for a Stark to be better than you." Robb japed, but with a certain pride in his voice, while unloaded a powerful swing from the left to Jon's right hip, which he barely managed to parry with great difficulty with the sword, making him take a couple of steps back.

Robb's strength mixed with the height and reach difference between them, made of Robb a difficult opponent to him. Especially when Jon had to fight at half of his potential.

This caused that many times during their sparrings, Jon chose to be permanently on the defensive.

Today was not going to be different. Avoiding Robb's wild swing slashes without counterattacking in the innumerable spaces Jon's brother offered to him. Or without taking the offensive himself, inexorably led to Jon's only strategy of block with the shield or parry with his sword. Always taking a step back and another in the opposite direction from Robb's reach. Always attentive where his footing was planting.

"As always, the coward bastard is dancing in circles around Robb." Quipped in loud mocking tones Theon, who was now watching the spar.

In this way of fight Robb, Jon managed to lengthen the duels without showing his true potential. Doing enough to tire Robb and to look as if himself was condemned to defend with no option to anything else.

"At least I am capable of not get caught even once, unlike you, squid." Jon replied to Theon, slightly panting, while blocking with the shield a bottom-up attack from Robb, which if had landed would have left a purple on Jon's left thigh.

Glancing sideways at the gallery above the courtyard, Jon couldn't help but gaze at Lady Tully and the look that lit up in her face as Robb attacked and was about to hit Jon. Or the looks of contempt and 'panic?' when Jon successively managed to block, parry or dodge Robb's attacks, without Robb even brushing against him.

"Come on Jon, show me what you can do apart from avoid my attacks." Rang powerful but heavily panting Robb's voice in the courtyard. Those kinds of expressions were the signal from Robb to him for attack. And as a good brother, Jon always did.

When it used to get to this point in their spars, Jon attacked in such way that his movements would be easily read by Robb, so that his brother would end up finding an opening in Jon's offense and thus ending the fight.

"If I beat you, then don't complain if you end up on that lord's ass for which so many daughters of northern lords sigh ... Lord Manderly's granddaughters would surely be delighted to offer you care after such serious wounds won in noble combat."

Jon's quip was received by a muffled laugh from Theon and a face of weariness and resignation from Ser Rodrik.

Jon began to attack in a series of patterns and stances that were demanding but that Robb should be able to block or dodge, while Jon used his shield to stop his brother's wild counterattacks.

Robb, heavily panting for the effort and for the references to Lord Manderly's granddaughters that had been hinted at Robb more than once, soon accepted Jon's bid and between puffs to find air, Robb replied.

"At least they don't mistake me for a maid because of my hair and for being pretty! Now you'll see, Snow!" Robb's jape delighted Theon, who was now laughing out loud.

By not changing Jon's pattern in his attack or defense, Robb would end up finding the opening and thereby defeating Jon 'according as the blood dictated'. And if that changed, Catelyn Tully would be there to remind Jon of that.

Jon still remembered it as if it were passing before his eyes. Maybe it was because since then his life has been a repetition of that year.

His sword was made of wood, but it was also Robb who stood facing him.

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see.

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." And he would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Robb would reply "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne."

That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had coldly answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell."

They had seven days of their name and while bastards mature earlier, Jon at that age still had an innocence that did not make him aware to the lengths to which Catelyn Tully could go against him, without actually incur in physical violence.

But Jon learned.

When Jon's father went to war with King Robert in the Greyjoy Rebellion, should he take actions that the Trout considered a threat from Jon against her true born, Jon would receive his punishment.

Every time Jon beat Robb in a spar, that night Jon had less food on his plate. When Jon was still sharing Maester Luwin's lessons with Robb and looking brighter than Winterfell's heir, his clothes were getting worse and worse and he had to ask old Nan to show him how mend them.

Lady Tully-Stark was at that time focused in trying to distance the two brothers, until then almost inseparable. However she didn't succeed, or at least not completely.

Yet, she did it with Sansa, who since she learned what a bastard was, stopped calling Jon brother, to refer to him as half-brother. Winterfell's servants did not take long to follow their lady's example, since Jon's father in the management of the household little intervened.

There were exceptions as Cage, the cook. Who, when sometimes Lady Tully gave Jon less food at dinners, before Jon went to his room to sleep, left a meatloaf waiting for him in the kitchens. And fortunately the cook was not the only one. Also showed some concern for Jon's well-being Mikken, Farlen, old Nan, Hodor in the way the great simple man could, and 'Ser' Andrew 'Longbeard' the watcher at the north gate who has so often seen Jon sneak into First Keep at night without saying a word to anyone.

Soon the exceptions from the year of the Greyjoy Rebellion became the norm and Jon's last eight days of his name in his life had been the same. Moving in the shadows trying to be inconspicuous and loyal to those who were loyal to him.

When the great lords from the north came to Winterfell, they looked at him as if he were an extraordinary object. As if Jon was a dragon. Something unthinkable that was there.

But he existed and breathed, being the walking stain of the man whom could hardly show him or give him the affection that Jon's father gave to his true born children.

And when Jon's father managed to find time in his duty to have moments alone with him, gazing towards him with that look of infinite love and sorrow, those were moments of affection that did not fill him. An affection that because of the secrecy in that sometimes had to be shown, felt bad, it could not be correct. And yet, when he saw his father with Bran or Robb. Or when Jon saw the

way his father looked to Arya ... He had never saw his father looking at him that way. Jon's train of thoughts as he faced Robb had thrown him into complete internal disarray. He always accepted everything life threw in his face and tried to overcome it.

Usually his little sister Arya tells Jon that his way of dealing with life was to brood for everything. But if she would analyze it well, more than melancholic and brooding, what Jon was trying to be, it was a shadow.

To go as unnoticed as possible. Knowing that his place in life would always be being the shadow of the only stain in the immaculate and unpolluted life of Lord Eddard Stark.

He just wanted life to pass as quickly as possible, while he stayed in the shadows.

But if he was completely sincere, Jon had ambitions and desires, as well as a bottomless well of anger and frustration always simmered inside him. A well of sorrow and sadness.

Jon's soul was broken by feeling that he did not belong anywhere. His family had a part of his heart and Winterfell was his house, yet not his home. Never his home.

He could never have what a Stark of Winterfell have. He could never be one of them. He was not a Stark. He was a Snow. And because he was a Snow, he was doomed to be the Bastard of Winterfell for life. Carrying a grief in which he had nothing to do with it. Jon was not to blame for being born. And now he had to let Robb win, or else Lady Tully would retaliate against him.

'What's next if I beat Robb? Leave me without firewood for the hearth ? Poison me?' Jon thought with anger burning inside him.

Jon's name day was officially shit.

At that moment his hatred for Lady Catelyn, caused that Jon saw the same cold turquoise blue look of hers in Robb's eyes 'Who are you? Who's your mother?' that look had always seemed to say. 'This is not your place. Why are you here?' seemed to convey the look in Robb's eyes when his brother was going to attack Jon in his opening. But instead of leaving himself open, the only thing that passed through Jon's mind was red.

Red as Fire. Red as Blood. Red as Ghost' eyes and the heart tree sap.

For the first time in his life, his inner self-regret and grief gave way to a new sensation. Inside him, a dam had been opened, and he did not know how to close it anew. Overflowing all his being with blind fury and rage. Something inside him that burned from within and this time he was unable to contain it.

'All seven curse you Catelyn Tully-Stark; watch a bastard sweep the floor of Winterfell with the ass of your beloved firstborn. Look who I am! Look why I am here! I could own this place if I want!'

Jon's fury was such that he didn't realized that it is all over until he heard distant voices and a muffled yip.

'Ghost! How did he get out of the kennel, what is he doing here?'

Upon coming to his senses, Jon was able to realize that during his outburst of fury he had not only defeated Robb, over whom he was now straddling, sword against the neck and Robb looking as if he were looking at Jon for the first time in his life. But also, at some point the cursed squid got in

the duel between him and Robb and now was on the ground on his knees with blood running profusely from his nose.

Ser Rodrik, who was tending to the hostage from the Iron Islands, was looking at Jon with a face of equal parts reproach and amazement.

When Jon fully came to his senses and regained his coolness, he noticed that practically everyone in Winterfell, including his brothers and sisters and all the direwolves, were watching the scene that had just happened in the training courtyard, with mixed expressions. These varied between Bran's disbelief and awe, the astonishment on Sansa's always composed face, what Jon sensed was fear on Septon Chayle and in Septa Mordane, and an ear-to-ear smile of pride in Arya.

'Not only have I beaten Robb, but I have almost made him pulp and in the process I have broken Theon's nose. By the gods!!! This will only give Lady Tully more reason to hate me and everyone will want to see this as proof that I am the bastard they say I am, because I have been unable to control my impulses.'

When Jon gave Robb his hand to lift him from the ground and apologized, he can't help but felt the cold, hateful and 'scared look?' from Catelyn Tully atop the palisade and the look of 'Disappointment? Pain?'' in his father.

If Jon needed more signs that it was his time to disappear away from the view of the people from Winterfell the rest of the day, this confirmed it.

"Sorry Robb, we'll talk later. It must have gone to my head that today is my name day." He somewhat muttered, half ashamed of himself, half tempted to say all that was inside of him.

With that and a pathetic attempt at an apologetic smile, he prepared to leave the courtyard and the focus of attention in which he was. Without apologizing to Theon, he scooped up the newly appeared Ghost to head into the Godswood, with the hope to find the peace that had left him.

With Ghost in his arms, imbued in his thoughts, he was intercepted near the end of the courtyard by his father who has come down from the gallery without him notice.

"Jon, are you okay?" Lord Eddard Stark asked with some concern on his grimace.

"Hmm ..." Jon affirmed absently.

"I want you to know, that I am not mad at you. On the contrary. I am glad that you finally beat Robb, especially on your name day!" His father said in an attempt at a warm voice, in which Lord Eddard failed miserably.

Jon let out a sigh, but before he could answer, his father spoke again.

"What you have shown today is incredible, we did not know that you had that skill with the sword. Have you always been keeping something up your sleeve? Or is it that all this time you've been holding back in training because you didn't want to embarrass Robb? You can be honest with me, I can understand you, nothing happens because you are better than Robb in something ..." Lord Eddard said with voice laced in sorrow and softly.

In that moment Lord Stark looked towards the courtyard, but Jon felt he was looking really into infinity, for then look again at Jon's face and with a small smile, told him.

"My brother Brandon always humiliated me in our duels. He took advantage of the fact that he was older and bigger than me ..."

Jon's father seemed to be looking at the courtyard as if he were seeing his past again. Lord Eddard voice trembled a little. After a moment in silent, Lord Eddard let a sigh and continued addressing him "... one of the reasons why I became fast friends with Robert in the Vale was because he taught me that I could beat any man if I wanted to. And he proved it by letting himself win. Or at least i believed he left me. The point is that I would have liked to be able to do Brandon what you did to Robb today."

Before answering, Jon looked around to see if there was anyone paying attention to what they were talking about. Since there was no one, Jon was going to ask his father what he wanted most in the world.

"Father, today is my fifth and tenth day of the name. You know I have never asked you for anything, nor have I complained about Lady Catelyn's continuous treatment or..." but before Jon could finish the sentence, Eddard Stark's deep breath interrupted him, and with the stoic face he usually uses with the lords from the north he said

"Jon, you know that you are a sensitive matter for Catelyn. I can ask her, and even demand that she accept you living here. But I cannot ask her to be a mother to you, nor can I demand better treatment of you, without incurring possible political ramifications. Hoster Tully still writes me a letter every six moons threatening to break the grain exchange agreement with the North if at some point I come to consider legitimizing you even by putting you last on the inheritance list." On that moment his father made a face that seemed to show that he was already well into his thirty days of the name.

"Jon, the politics are very complicated and after Robert's rebellion, Westeros is sustained by a very unstable peace. The North cannot afford to lose the support of the Riverlands. For there to be any change ... I would have to get out of her..."

Ned stared into Jon's eyes. Being only slightly taller than Jon himself, their eyes were almost in the same line of sight. The amount of emotions that passed through his father's gaze, gray eyes like a storm, were impossible for Jon to list. But if he was sure of one thing, it was that the next thing his father was going to tell him was going to hurt.

"I don't know if you've seen that while you were training, Catelyn came to talk with Maester Luwin and me." Jon just nodded, giving his father his foot to continue. "Today a raven came from your uncle Benjen, saying that good men are needed for the Wall. And after seeing your exhibit today, I doubt there are better men than you in the North. There is great honor in serving on the Wall."

Eddard Stark stared at him to see his reaction. But at that moment Jon felt nothing.

That he chose the dignified and honorable way out of going to the Wall to stop being a nuisance when he completed the six and ten days of his name, was one thing. That his own father was inviting him to go before even being an adult to the Wall ... with all the mistreatment and bile of Lady Catelyn that he had had to endure ... on his name day ... after what had happened with Robb ... it was too much.

So Jon chose to be direct and stop beating around the bush.

"Very well Lord Stark. Since I am a political charge and we do not want the trout to get angry, I will go to the Wall. I will exile myself, but in return you will tell me who my mother is. After that there aren't reasons to have more contact between your lady wife and me. Neither between the two of us, if you my Lord wish so. I will only ask you to allow me to maintain communication by crow with those of my brothers and sisters who want it." Jon said in a challenging way, his voice a little speeded up, but cold and dry.

Many times his father had denied him the knowledge of his mother, but if Lord Stark wants for him to go to the Wall, first he had to know who his mother was and if she was alive.

'I don't care if she was a whore or that she was a bastard daughter from the Mad King. I'm going to find her. Even if I have to immerse myself in the depths from the Fourteen Flames of Valyria and go through the Seven Andal hells.'