Chapter 41: The Red Dragon Emperor is a bit cunning (I)

Jon smiled as he watched his sister rub her eyes as she walked beside him. It was nighttime, with the vast majority sleeping. The torches and any sign of light inside, was minimal. As they walked down the hall, Arya was unaware that her brother had used magic to make them go unnoticed by any guards who were watching; be it the ones outside on the walls or the infrequent ones inside.

"Where are we going, Jon?" Arya asked curiously, but also sleepily.

"That depends. If you're too sleepy and want to go back to sleep, you can go back to your room. However, if you want to get a gift you can come with me."

"Gift?" Arya looked at Jon's face, who had an amused smile on his face. "What is it?!"

"Shh. Quiet. It's better if the others don't notice, right?"

 "Uh... Fine," a little unsatisfied at not having an answer, Arya pouted as they walked outside. She was more curious now, because she thought they were going to Jon's room, but now they were heading towards the old Tower. Soon, they climbed stairs, one after another, in complete silence. Arya didn't know how her brother could walk so well in such an absorbing darkness, but she had to take his hand to follow him properly. In the end, they had to stop.

"Be careful around here. As you well know, the tower collapsed inwards."

"How do we get through?" Arya asked, but she saw her brother's silhouette lifting something before pushing her a little. She had to crouch down before feeling more stairs with her hands. And from there, she had to crouch several times, crawl and even jump over what should be pieces of rock. At last, when they reached the end, she saw the Moon hanging high in the sky and its light illuminating the top of the Old Tower with a large part of the wall and roof open from the long-ago collapse.

"What will we do here?" Arya asked as she turned around, but stopped when she saw Jon holding a sword. The blade rested between his hands delicately, and it looked beautifully silver with the moonlight illuminating it.

"If you accept, then it is our secret. What do you say about learning how to use the sword?"

Arya's mouth dropped open at that moment. "R- R- Really? You would teach me?!"

"That's why I'm here, isn't it? However, as I said, it will be a secret. Every night we can come here to train. The sword here, will be yours, but it will have to be hidden by me. We don't want your mother to make a fuss, do we?"

 "Yes! I don't mind hiding it for a while! But I want to learn!" Arya said excitedly, jumping up and down. The previous sleepiness and tiredness had completely disappeared. She walked over to look at the sword: it wasn't too big, but it wasn't small either. Its blade was flat and widened slightly as you looked down at the handguard, which looked like a cross with metal surrounding the center, like a rose. The handle was a dark blue color and the pommel was white in the shape of a flower bud.

"It's very pretty. Does it have a name?"

"... Yes it does. But I won't tell you until you've learned."

"Why not?!" Arya asked a little annoyed. Even more so when Jon smiled at her and tapped her nose with a finger upwards.

"Let's get started. You've got a lot to learn in a short time."

"... Good," Arya nodded as she gripped her sword in one hand.

"First, use both hands. You need to be able to exert the force necessary to cut someone, okay? Yes, that's it. Now let's fix that broken stance of yours."

That night, Jon taught her several basics of swordplay. Since he trained under Ser Rodrik Cassell, he knew things from the start. But after receiving Excalibur Galatine, he had to go through arduous training under Barakiel to learn how to properly fight with a sword. And right now, he was passing all that knowledge on to his sister. What she didn't know, was that at the top of the old tower, time passed a little slower.

Jon brought back many useful things from Earth. Weapons, potions, food, ingredients, the Crimson Ravager itself, stored in its storage thanks to Skidbladnir's ability to shrink, technological stuff, etc. And what he was using, was a small magical item created by House Agares of the Underworld; it was an artifact that allowed a space from five to a hundred meters to be created around the user, so that they could train. Three hours inside was only one hour outside. The total difference was not that much, but it was still a useful thing.

But why was Jon doing all this? There were two reasons. The first was simply because he wanted to help his sister with her desire to learn how to use weapons. The second reason, was because the King was approaching. He had planned to do some things at that time, and if for any reason he was discovered, then he did not want her to get hurt in case she was involved.

Of course, Jon would not kill the King inside Winterfell. That was simply drawing too much attention, even more so when the North could be blamed for such a thing. No, what Jon wanted to do was to give some humiliation to the bastard who raped his mother. He had already thought of that after listening to his mother, but he never expected the prey to walk straight to his hunter.

It was simply too good. An opportunity he couldn't pass up.

But for now, he was focused on Arya, who had already started to sweat a little as she fought Jon, who was using a real sword and not a wooden one. He wanted his sister to understand how dangerous a sword was. Of course, he avoided cutting her at the last moment.

. . . . .

During the day, Jon was called by his father to his personal room, where he managed things, read letters, and signed a few others. Jon was sitting while his father finished reading one of those letters. He was a little curious about the sudden call to this place.

Soon, after a minute or so, Ned put the letter aside before looking at his son. "I called you because I wanted to know what you would do after the King's visit."

"What do you mean, Lord Stark?"

"... You know you can call me Father..."

Jon simply blinked, as if he didn't hear those words, causing Ned to frown a little. Even though he thought he wouldn't feel too much when he was in front of his father, it ended up being an illusion. Being honest with himself, he was angry at what he did in the past, knowing how devastated his mother was with the things that happened. He might not know that she was raped by his best friend, but that or undo his other choices.

Seeing that he wouldn't have an answer to his previous words, Ned went straight to the main topic. "The King is on his way. And he will most likely ask me to be his Hand. Because of that, I want to know what you will do next."

Jon tilted his head slightly to the side. "I will leave Winterfell, Lord Stark. It is the best option I have."

"Jon..." Ned's frown became more pronounced. "I understand that you want to go to the Wall..."

"Oh, no. You misunderstand me," Jon interrupted him at that moment. "I wasn't planning on going to the Wall. Not anymore. In fact, I will probably head south."

 "What...? I haven't heard of that. Since when did you have this idea?"

"Since I heard that the King would come and ask you to be his Hand, Lord Stark. Let's be completely honest, okay? There's no place for me here, not when your respected wife doesn't want me anywhere near her children. The Wall, though it has a purpose, is no longer the same as it once was; you yourself have told me this. Therefore, my best option is to travel south and seek a goal for the future."

"Perhaps I'll skip south and go beyond. Essos, perhaps? There wouldn't be anything tying me to one place anyway, so I might as well look for something to do."

Ned looked at his son in disbelief. He didn't think he'd hear that from him, who seemed completely stubborn about going to the Wall. But he was also a little annoyed with Jon's apparent disinterest.

"What about Robb? He might need your help. Just like Bran."

Jon looked at him for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "Lord Stark, there is no help I can offer your children. You must understand that even if I could, your wife would not let me. Isn't it better to avoid unnecessary trouble? In the end, everyone will be happier."

"Your brothers will miss you! Didn't you think about that?"

"Robb is mature enough that before long he won't care. Bran too. As for Sansa... why would she? She hates me."

"What about Arya?"

"She... might be the strongest," Jon smirked, knowing better than his father.

Ned gritted his teeth as he looked into his son's eyes; a look of pure disinterest was what he received. Was this how his son truly felt? Did his brothers have so little importance in his life?

Jon shook his head before standing up. "It seems that would be all, Lord Stark?" With that he stood up from his chair to walk towards the exit. However, as he reached out to open the door, he was stopped by Ned's voice: "Jon... do you hate me?"

"Hate...?" Jon asked before looking back with a wry smile. "Instead of worrying about that kind of thing, it's better to worry about betrayals, games and sneaky people."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Aren't you going to the Capital? It is said that that place is full of greedy vipers, hungry rats and singing birds. Don't worry about me and concentrate on thinking of a way to be able to resist in that stinking place."

"I didn't say that I would accept," Ned replied, but was greeted by a look of pure mockery from his son. He was clearly saying that he didn't believe him. After that, he could only watch as Jon walked out while carefully closing the door, leaving a dissatisfied Ned Stark behind. He didn't know what had happened to his son, but he was clearly different.

 Rubbing his closed eyelids with two fingers, Ned leaned back in his chair, thinking about everything that was happening around him. A deserter claiming to have seen White Walkers, Jon Arryn's death, the arrival of the King, the encounter with the direwolves after the execution, his son's change... So much was happening in such a short time, that he felt a little overwhelmed.

He carefully stood up while opening a jug of wine to drink some. But, even so, he felt restless. He wasn't one to drink too much, but he tended to do so when he felt a little restless. And when that didn't fix it, he would head out to the Godswood to sit quietly to think and try to find some answers to his problems.

And that was exactly what he did. He walked until he reached the forest and sat on the rock next to the heart tree, cleaning his sword that was clean, and also looking at the pond from time to time. The trees creaked as if they understood his problems and the wind moved the leaves as if they were answers that could not be heard by his ears. Small ripples were created in the pond in front of him because of the wind, even his hair became a little disheveled.

He felt a little uneasy, as if the Old Gods were saying that this was no time to sit and ponder things.

That night, during dinner, he watched closely what his son, Jon, was doing. He saw him sitting near a corner with the other people in the Hall. He seemed to be smiling as he spoke to some guards and maids. He couldn't hear from where he was, and also from all the voices inside the place, but he certainly didn't seem sad or angry. Rather, he looked very happy, as if what they talked about earlier didn't happen. Or maybe it was that leaving Winterfell was a joy for him. He couldn't tell for sure.

But, that night, as he slept right next to his wife, he had a dream. It was a dream that was all too real. It was so real that he could barely consider it a dream. He was in a beautiful garden, a land behind a palace like no other. He looked around, not knowing what to do, but he could certainly move.

 "Are you completely sure? It doesn't seem like a good idea, dear," a female voice reached his ears. Ned was curious, but didn't show much emotion on his face. He moved one leg to take a step, then the other. Soon he began to walk as he heard two voices, one female and one male.

"I've already shown you how strong I am. Why do you worry so much, mother?" Ned frowned as he recognized the voice.

"Jon?" he muttered to himself. He walked a little faster through the bushes, until he reached a small part where there was a beautiful porch. There, he froze at the sight of Jon, but it wasn't just him. The person sitting next to him... Ned dreamed about her many times!

"Fool!" the woman's voice sounded a little annoyed. "Right now you're by my side. And knowing that you're alive, I worry. I, who never thought of meeting you, there's no way I can feel at ease when you're trying dangerous things."

 "It's not dangerous for me though?" Jon asked with a small smile.

"Still!" Ashara snorted as she crossed her arms. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence until Jon bared his teeth fiercely.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not stopping until I make that bastard pay for what he did to you. King or not, he has to pay," Jon stated seriously, but suddenly frowned, looking in the direction of Ned, who was staring frozen in a complete state of shock. He didn't know what was happening. Was it perhaps a response from the Gods? But that made no sense to him! Jon clearly shouldn't know who his mother was.

"I don't know who you are, but I can certainly sense your existence in that place. I'll have to talk to that woman so she doesn't invite strange souls into this place," Jon snorted before raising his hand. Ned only saw a crimson glow before he jolted awake on his bed, startling his wife.

 "Ned? What happened?"

".... I... don't know, Cat. I don't know anything anymore," Ned covered his face with both hands.

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