Chapter 3 : Brotherhood and goodbye's

Robb Stark

He gazed out across the training yard, lost in thought. His father's words from their morning meal echoed in his mind. Jon would be leaving for Greywater Watch, and he couldn't help but feel sad. He knew it was for the best, as Jon was his brother, but there was still a solemn demeanor about him. Hopefully, the wardship in Greywater Watch would benefit Jon. However, He would dearly miss his friend and confidant.

Jon had been with him for as long as he could remember. It didn't matter to him that Jon was his half-brother. To Him, Jon was simply his brother, always there for him. Whether he was hurt, alone, or causing mischief together, Jon was by his side. Reflecting on those moments, he realized that Jon was always the one getting the blame, especially if their mother found out. She would scold Jon in front of their father, using it as a means to elevate him and belittle Jon. It was unfair, and Robb now saw it clearly for what it was.

'Especially during our sparring sessions,' he thought angrily. 'How can I improve if the one I'm fighting against someone who isn't even giving his all? How am I supposed to learn or if I believe that I can defeat anyone?' He failed to notice that he often bested Jon in their spars while Jon consistently triumphed over Theon. Jon didn't need to hold back against Theon.

'And how could my mother be so cruel as to send Jon to bed without food for a week or longer?" Robb continued his internal rant. "Or to do other things to prevent him from eating? She couldn't see Jon for who he truly was. She only saw the shame attached to his bastard status, not the happiness he brought to our father. She failed to see my trust in my brother and that Jon would never betray me.' He thought angrily.

He wondered if he could ever forgive his mother. If she had only heard Jon defending her, or at least making it clear that she was their mother and they only had one, maybe she would have seen Jon's selflessness. Jon would always deny himself when there was a shortage, singling himself out to let the trueborn children have more. Jon was good and true; nothing his mother said would ever change that in his eyes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Stark, Robb," Jon called out, his voice tinged with concern. He snapped back to the present, realizing he had been lost in thought. "Yeah, sorry, I was just lost in my world. What did you ask me?" He inquired.

"I was asking if you're up for a spar," Jon replied, amusement evident. "Greyjoy doesn't seem to be up for another beating." He gestured toward Theon, who was slowly rising from the ground.

"Sure, Jon. It would be good to clear my head," He responded, appreciating the opportunity to focus on something other than his swirling emotions.

They positioned themselves in the training yard, wooden swords at the ready. Warily, they circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, Jon lunged forward, his sword swinging toward Robb's midsection. Robb effortlessly parried the blow and countered with a swift strike to Jon's shoulder. Jon managed to deflect the attack but stumbled backward under its force.

Robb pressed forward, his sword gleaming in the sunlight as he launched a flurry of blows at Jon. Jon skillfully blocked each strike, his sword moving with lightning-fast speed. Sweat trickled down Robb's back as he tried to keep up with Jon's relentless assault.

As Robb began to feel overwhelmed, he noticed an opening in Jon's defense. Seizing the opportunity, he feinted to the left and then lunged to the right, catching Jon off guard. His wooden sword connected with Jon's side, causing Jon to stumble backward with a grunt.

Jon quickly regained his composure, parrying Robb's next blow with ease. The two brothers continued their intense exchange of blows, their swords clashing together in a fierce battle. In the end, it was Jon who emerged victorious. With a final flurry of blows, he forced Robb back until Robb was backed against the training yard wall.

"I yield," He gasped, sweat pouring down his face. He was surprised yet thrilled that Jon had won their spar. He had never seen Jon fight with such skill and power before.

"Jon, I didn't know you had it in you," HE exclaimed, clapping his brother on the back.

"I've been practicing, as I mentioned, and now I don't have to hold back anymore," Jon replied with a small smile. "And since this is my last spar with you for a while, I figured I might as well give it my all."

He felt saddened at the reminder that Jon would leave, but he pushed it aside for now. He was just grateful for the opportunity to bond with his brother without their mother's constant tension and disapproval.

"Well, you certainly held back before, so now I'll have to do my best to land a hit," He said with a grin, appreciating the challenge and the lessons to be learned.

Jon nodded in acknowledgment, and they both sheathed their swords. Together, they walked toward the battlements of Winterfell, their spirits lifted by their shared experience.

As they strolled, He couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of closeness with Jon. He realized that he had taken their relationship for granted, assuming that Jon would always be there as his loyal companion. But now, facing Jon's imminent departure, HE felt a deep sense of loss and a newfound appreciation for their bond.

"Hey, Jon," He broke the silence between them. "I just wanted to say... I'm going to miss you, brother."

Jon gave him a small smile. "I'll miss you too, Robb. But I'll be back before you know it," Jon assured him.

"How do you feel about Lady Alys and the Manderly girls?" Jon asked, curiosity evident in his voice. He blushed at the question, unsure of his own emotions. "I don't know. All I can remember from the last time Father and the Karstarks visited is that she had brown and blue-grey eyes. It's a bit like yours, but not the purple you have in yours. The Manderly girls that have been too long, all I remember is their brown hair and the names Wylla and Wynafryd." he replied, his nervousness palpable. Thoughts raced through his mind, wondering what Lady Alys, Wylla, and Wynafryd would be like now, whether she would resemble Sansa, Arya, or a combination of both in character. He knew he would find out soon enough.

"Well, if one match matches you, that's great. If not, it doesn't really matter, as you still have more than enough time to find the right match for yourself. But if you do, it's definitely a bonus. Look at it on the bright side, Robb. Three girls are coming all the way here for you. I'd say that's pretty flattering," Jon said, chuckling at the last part.

"Yeah, very funny. Well, you're off for an adventure, and I'm staying here, waiting for a ladies," He replied, mocking Jon's situation. Yet deep down, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as Jon embarked on a journey to the Neck and Greywater Watch, a significant chokepoint in the North.

"Well, I hope they please you, brother. You deserve a good lady, and I hope to like my future sister-in-law," Jon said, playfully teasing Him.

He laughed at Jon's comment. "I hope so, too. And who knows, maybe when you return, you'll also have a good sister-in-law for me to like." Jon nodded with a grin, and Robb appreciated the lighthearted banter, savoring this moment with Jon before their paths diverged.

"Jon," He began, his voice filled with emotions. "I am grateful for this moment, for our bond, and the strength we find in each other. You have become a remarkable warrior, and I am proud to call you my brother. Although I'm still saddened by the fact that my mother prevented you from revealing how good you really were," he told Jon.

Jon's expression softened. "Robb, it wasn't your fault. Don't ever think that. Remember that, please," Jon reassured him. "And I feel the same about you, Robb. Our paths may temporarily diverge, but when I return, we will continue training and spar like never before. Let's both promise to become even better," Jon said, his smile brightening the room.

Robb smiled back, his hope for their future evident in his eyes. "I look forward to that day, Jon. Until then, may the gods keep you safe on your journey, and may our reunion be filled with joy and shared victories."

They hugged once again, sealing their bond as brothers. As Jon left for his room to prepare for his trip, Robb watched him go, feeling a mix of sadness at their impending separation and a renewed sense of purpose. He refused to let his emotions dampen the present moment, instead focusing on their deep connection and the memories they had created together.

As Robb returned to the castle, a renewed determination filled his heart. The challenges ahead were significant, and he knew his mother would try to sow discord between them. But he wouldn't let that happen. With Jon by his side, they would face those challenges as true Stark brothers, unyielding and unbroken. The disappointment from the previous evening had faded away, replaced by a bright and hopeful outlook for the future.

Arya Stark

Robb and she couldn't help but blame her mother for all the mistreatment Jon had endured. He would always be her true brother, regardless of what her mother said. She felt a surge of determination in her heart.

With Jon leaving for Greywater Watch, her favorite brother was departing. Perhaps Robb could teach her swordplay. Father had mentioned that Robb was open to teaching her, and with the Mormonts coming. She held onto that glimmer of hope.

In the end, Robb yielded during the spar. He didn't appear angry but seemed happy as if he had finally found a worthy challenge. As they both left, she retreated to her room, realizing she had nothing else to do for the day. The Septa's lessons were suspended and wouldn't continue as Father had wanted to give them all time to reflect on what he had said and to spend quality time with Jon.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Can I come in? It's me, Jon," he asked from outside her door.

"Yes, come in," she replied, a small smile forming as Jon entered her room, his hands hidden behind his back.

She greeted Jon with a cheerful tone, trying to mask the sadness within herself.

"Hey," she said, her voice filled with forced cheerfulness.

"Hey," Jon responded, his voice hinting melancholy.

She noticed Jon concealing something behind his back. Her curiosity was piqued as she wondered what it could be.

"I brought you something," Jon said, revealing a small package wrapped in brown paper.

Her eyes widened with excitement as she saw what was inside— a sword.

"Jon, it's beautiful," She exclaimed, accepting the sword from him. It was a small thing with a tin blade. "I wanted you to have it," Jon explained. "So you can practice and keep yourself safe."

Jon asked, "Do you remember the first lesson in sword fighting?" She replied with a mischievous grin, "Stick 'em with the pointy end." They shared a hearty laugh, savoring the sibling bond that had always been a source of strength and comfort.

She felt a lump forming in her throat. While she had never been particularly close to Sansa, her older sister, Jon, had always been there for her. He had taught her archery and tree-climbing, and now, he was entrusting her with the knowledge of sword fighting for self-defense.

"I'll miss you," She said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'll miss you too, little wolf," Jon responded, affectionately tousling her hair.

"Promise me you'll write often, and I promise I will too," she implored. "Of course, little wolf," Jon assured her, ruffling her hair once more.

They continued talking in her room, discussing Jon's plans and his hopes for his journey. The passing of time became irrelevant as their conversation flowed effortlessly. Eventually, Jon stood up from her bed.

"I have to go, Arya. But I promise we can start training in the morning" Jon said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Yes, I would like that," Arya whispered, her voice muffled against Jon's shoulder.

Jon released her from the embrace, offering one last smile before turning to depart.

Arya watched him go, tears welling up in her eyes. She clutched Needle tightly, finding solace and protection in its presence. He left not much later and left her in her thoughts.

Later that evening

Lying in her bed, Arya decided to sneak into Jon's room. She knew he wouldn't mind if she slept there, as they had done before when she was scared. She opened the door with quiet steps and heard the fireplace crackling in the background. It seemed odd to have a fire on a warm summer night in the North, but her attention was immediately drawn to the sight above the fireplace. Her eyes widened as she saw four stones of different colors shaped like eggs. They were dragon eggs.

At the sound of her presence, Jon opened his eyes, half-asleep. "Arya!" he exclaimed with a scowl. "What are you doing here?" His eyes widened as if he suddenly remembered something.

"Jon, why do you have dragon eggs in your fireplace? Or do I have to wake father?" Arya asked smugly, knowing that revealing her discovery would put Jon in a difficult position.

Jon sighed, running his hands across his face. "All right, I'll tell you, but close the door. I should have locked it," he said, acknowledging her presence. After she locked the door, he gestured for her to sit beside him. "You have to promise not to tell anyone, not even Robb," he requested.

"I promise. I won't reveal the secret of the Stark family," She responded, her curiosity piqued.

"Arya, I have these dragon eggs because they were gifts and belongings passed down to me by my father and mother. Lord Stark wasn't my father, and I'm not truly your brother," Jon said softly, placing a hand on hers.

Annoyed by his words, she spoke up. "What do you mean you're not my brother?"

Jon's face flushed with nervousness. "I'm sorry, but I'm not. My mother was Lyanna Stark, and my birth father was Rhaegar Targaryen. My true name isn't Jon Snow. It is Aenar Targaryen."

Her mind reeled with the revelation. "Wait, how did Father know? That means you're my cousin, but a trueborn one. Now, what Mother says about you makes even less sense. You're royalty! If Sansa knew you were a prince of dragons, she would faint," she said with a laugh, and Jon joined in.

Many things fell into place for Her. Jon's behavior change and resilience against their mother's cruelty—she now understands it. Their father's love for his children, even Sansa, despite her mistreatment of Jon or Aenar.

"What do you want to do now? And what should I call you?" Arya asked in rapid succession, eager for more answers.

"You can call me Aenar or Jon, whichever you prefer," he replied, kissing her on her forehead.

"Alright, Jon, tell me more about those eggs," She urged, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Jon took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the dragon eggs resting in the fireplace. "Aegon and Rhaenys, as you know, were my half-siblings, born to my father's first marriage with Elia Martell. They were tragically murdered during the rebellion by the Mountain and Amory Lorch."

She listened intently, her curiosity growing. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. Father never talks about the rebellion. What do the eggs have to do with them?"

Jon's expression turned somber. "Aegon and Rhaenys were given two of those dragon eggs. The black and red one and the orange and red one. When they died, some of their spirits went into those eggs. It's a tragic fate, Arya. They were innocent children caught amid a war. I can hear them and speak with them in a way. That's how I know they are Rhaenys and Aegon, or at least part of them is." Jon finished slightly smiling, though speaking of his deceased siblings brought him sadness.

Her heart ached with sympathy for the loss Jon had endured. "I'm sorry, Jon. But there is some comfort in knowing that part of them still remains." She hugged him, and Jon nodded in appreciation.

"True. I'll tell you more about the rebellion and what I have planned. But for now, it's late, and if we don't get some sleep, we won't be useful to anyone," Jon said, recognizing they need rest. She nodded, satisfied that she would have more answers from him in the future.

"Goodnight, Aenar," She said softly, her voice filled with emotions, as she snuggled against Jon. He placed an arm around her and pulled the covers over them. "Goodnight, Arya," Jon replied, his voice filled with affection and shared understanding.

Jon/Aenar Targaryen

Three weeks after Jon's nameday

The last three weeks had been different for him. Now that Arya knew the truth, he had someone to confide in, someone who understood the secrets he carried. While life at Winterfell remained mostly the same, Lady Catelyn still disapproved of him. However, he noticed a positive change in his relationship with Sansa and even Theon, as they seemed more accepting of him. It was comforting to rebuild those connections.

Today was the day he would finally leave Winterfell after twelve long years. He woke up earlier than usual, as he always did, to train and prepare himself mentally for the journey that awaited him. Before setting off, he decided to talk with his mother, or at least the statue representing her in the crypts.

Walking into the crypts, he spoke to the statue with a mixture of longing and determination. "Hello, Mother. I miss you every day. But knowing who you were brings me happiness. Reading the letters from you and Father, I am filled with a sense of purpose. I will try my best to make you both proud. I will set history right and reveal the true story, not the one spread by the usurper."

He continued, his voice filled with determination. "I will bring honor back to our house and protect our family, both sides if they are still alive. And if there are any Targaryens left, I will protect them too, as they are family." The image of the woman with purple eyes and silver hair lingered in his mind, a potential Targaryen connection. But he knew the truth of her existence remained uncertain.

"Today, I will leave, but I promise to return and visit you. Know that you are always in my thoughts, and I will forever love you," he said, his words filled with sincerity. Perhaps he could honor his mother by carrying on his father's musical talents. Singing was something bastards were not usually allowed to do, but he believed Lady Stark would have permitted it. He began to sing "Jenny of Oldstones," a song his father had sung before. "High in the halls of the kings who are gone."

"Jenny would dance with her ghosts."

"The ones she had lost and the ones she had found."

"And the ones who had loved her the most."

"The ones who'd been gone for so very long."

"She couldn't remember their names."

"They spun her around on the damp old stones."

"Spun away all her sorrow and pain."

"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."

"Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."

"They danced through the day."

"And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall."

"From winter to summer, then winter again."

"Til the walls did crumble and fall."

"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."

"Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."

"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."

"Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone."

"Jenny would dance with her ghosts."

"The ones she had lost and the ones she had found."

"And the ones."

"Who had loved her the most."

As he finished the song, he heard applause behind him. His hair stood right up as he turned around to see who it was. "Jon, I thought it was him for a moment. You sing just like him," his uncle-father said, his voice filled with emotion.

"I heard him sing once at Harrenhal before the joust. He sang the very same song. Your mother cried when she heard it. It seems fitting that the first song you sing to her is the same as your father's," his uncle-father said with a chuckle.

"You were a really good son. She would have been proud of you," his uncle-father said, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder. "I'm proud of you too, Jon. You have become a great man, and I am honored to call my son if you still wish for me to call you that." His uncle-father's voice trembled with emotion.

"Rhaegar might have been my father, a man with his own faults but also a good man from what I know. I mourn the fact that I never had the chance to know him, and I will always love him. I was hurt that you kept the truth from me. But you, Uncle Ned, are the one who raised me and made me the person I am today. For that, I will always see you as my father," Jon replied, his voice filled with gratitude and love. He embraced his uncle tightly, cherishing the bond they shared.

"Thank you, Jon. I will always see you as my son as well. I will do everything I can to help you reclaim your rightful place. Could you write to me when you are away? I want to hear about your progress," his uncle-father said, a chuckle escaping his lips. They walked outside together, ready to break their fast before his departure.

As they entered the great hall, the rest of the family was already gathered, including Lady Stark, who wore an unexpectedly content expression. Jon couldn't help but feel a pang of cynicism, knowing her happiness was likely due to his departure. Nonetheless, he had managed to bring a smile to her face, if only for a brief moment.

"Good morning, everyone," his father greeted the family seated at the table. Each responded in turn, including Sansa and Lady Stark, who directed their words toward Jon. He understood Sansa's initial reaction, as she had only followed their mother's lead. He hoped that the kind-hearted sister he once knew would return one day.

With the meal proceeding as usual, filled with casual conversation and the occasional glare from Lady Stark, Jon and Robb finished their breakfast. Robb gathered his belongings, including a chest, while Jon pondered the predicament of hiding Blackfyre. He had already concealed it outside the castle, but he needed to discreetly decide how to transport it. He resolved to retrieve the sword along the way.

"Morning, Alyn. Are you ready to leave?" He asked Alyn, one of the Winterfell guardsmen who would accompany him on his journey. He had prepared a note from Lord Stark explaining Alyn's duty and their shared mission. As they approached where he had hidden Blackfyre, Jon contemplated the necessity of carrying the Valyrian steel sword.

"Yes, Jon. Good morning, Lord Stark. I'm excited to leave and serve you," Alyn replied respectfully, unaware of the true purpose of their journey. Jon's smile revealed both appreciation for Alyn's commitment and a hint of anticipation.

Facing his family one last time, Jon made his way to Arya. He crouched down, meeting her gaze. "Hey, Arya. Take care of yourself while I'm away, alright?" he said, gently ruffling her hair.

Arya nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. "You too, Jon. Promise you'll come back and write to me?" she pleaded.

His voice softened. "I promise it already, Arya, three weeks ago. You're my brave little wolf, and I'll always be there for you."

He then approached Sansa, who maintained a certain distance, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resentment.

"Goodbye, Sansa," He whispered. "Remember that Winterfell and the North are a part of you. Don't let anyone make you forget that."

Sansa nodded, her gaze distant. "I won't forget. And I won't forget you either, Jon." She embraced him briefly, their complicated bond visible in that fleeting moment.

Lastly, Jon turned to Lady Stark. Their relationship had always been strained, but he wanted to leave on a relatively good note. "Lady Stark, I hope for the best. Know that I will always love your children. Goodbye for now," he said with a respectful nod. He was not getting anything in return. He supposed she was only here because of Rickon.

Looking down at the baby in Lady Starks arms, Rickon, his not-yet one-year-old brother, gave him a playful smile. "Hey there, little man. Take care of everyone for me, okay?"He said, his voice filled with affection.

Rickon giggled, and his innocent eyes wide looked at him. He would miss those eyes. "I bring you a toy when you come back." He ended and gave Lady Stark a final nod.

Approaching Bran, trying to stand tall as a brave knight in an old body, He looked down at him with admiration and warmth. "Take care, Bran," he said, tousling Bran's hair gently. "Keep exploring and learning about the world. You have a bright future ahead of you."

Bran beamed, his eyes shining. "I will, Jon. Safe travels!" Bran wanted to say more as he looked down to his. "Can you bring me a toy too?" Bran asked quietly. "Of course, little ser." Bran gave him a happy hug in response.

Finally, Jon stood before his older brother, Robb, and their father, Lord Stark. Robb had grown into a strong young man, while their father carried an air of wisdom and authority.

Robb embraced Him tightly. "Take care of yourself, Jon. I love you, brother. Greywater Watch won't know what hit them with you around," he said, his voice filled with mixed emotions.

He chuckled, returning the embrace. "I'll do my best, Robb. I love you too, brother."

Finally, he turned to his father, his voice filled with warmth and respect. "Father, thank you for everything you've taught me," he expressed gratefully. "I'll make you proud, I promise."

His father placed a hand on Jon's shoulder, a mixture of pride and sorrow in his gaze. "You already have, Jon. You will always have a home here. Never forget that. You may not bear my name, but you carry my blood," his father said, and they shared a heartfelt embrace.

"I won't," He replied, mounting his horse and riding towards the inner gatehouse. With one last look at his family, he bid them farewell, his heart heavy yet brimming with determination as he and Alyn set off toward Greywater Watch.

Notes : Thanks for the read. Jon is leaving for Greywater Watch, and Arya receives Needle.

End Note: I wish to formally declare that I hold no ownership over any lines, worldbuilding aspects, or characters derived from the following works: "Game of Thrones," "House of the Dragon" TV show, or the broader "A Song of Ice and Fire" universe.

The credit for the creation of these literary elements rightfully belongs to HBO and George R.R. Martin for their contribution in crafting this rich and immersive world.

The narrative presented herein utilizes elements from these works solely for the purpose of constructing a new story.

I hold the rights solely to the original elements introduced within the context of the story I've created. This includes new characters, plot developments, and any unique narrative elements that are not directly derived from pre-existing works such as "Game of Thrones," "House of the Dragon," or the broader "A Song of Ice and Fire" universe.

Thanks for the read, and don't repost this story. If not given permission.