Chapitre 535: 21
Chapter 21: Ch 21 Introspections
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 21 Introspection
Eddard Stark
It had been two days since leaving Winterfell. They were making good time, and at this pace it was only a matter of days till they reached the Dreadfort.
Between Houses Stark, Manderly and Reed, near five thousand men marched forth from Winterfell. They'd left some Reed and Manderly men at Winterfell with Sansa...Sansa in charge. That had come as a shock when Jon had left her in command as his representative. Catelyn had turned quite a few colours when Jon done that, naming her young daughter as his emissary- as a Hand of the King in all but name. And such an emissary had much more power and authority than the Lady of Winterfell, but Sansa had Jon confidence in ways Catelyn would never have. She had his confidence and Ned knew all that Jon hadn't told him, Sansa already knew.
Ned shook his head, in all so bewildering.
They hadn't been the only ones leaving Winterfell, Theon was banished with a company of loyal Manderly men, they were on their way to Torrhen's Square and from there, Theon would find himself on a ship bound for Pyke.
He cast that thought aside. Leaving Winterfell, Jon had taken Robb and Bran with them. Ned had taken Jory with them to help command the men, Rodrick remained in Winterfell. They were been accompanied by Howland and Jojen. Meera had stayed behind along with Lord Manderly in Winterfell. Lord Manderly had placed one of his trusted knights to command his men and sent along with them.
King Jon...Gods that sounded strange! He led the way, setting an example for all the men. He spoke well, was polite and gave every man his due and gave all men respect no matter their standing. He set an example for all and Ned found himself proud of the man he'd become. The Stark men were confused remembering the young boy they'd known in Winterfell and trying to come to terms with the man he had become after they died. The Manderly and Reed men saw the man and the Dragon King he was now. That he had become in that dark and treacherous future.
Robb was the same. Diligent and honorable. The Young Wolf they called him. Each man who remembered respected him as a veteran commander be they Stark, Reed or Manderly. An honorable man and worthy man, a true Stark and one day...a good Lord of Winterfell.
They both went about their duties as men not as the boys he'd once known.
And inside he wept at the costs they'd paid to become these men...all because of his mistakes.
The first day they'd camped he'd been the one to put off his conversation with Jon again, especially after speaking with Theon. He'd needed time to cool down after that. He'd been so angry as the knowledge of Theon's actions reverberated in his mind. All he could see was the boy he'd been. And all things he'd done to wrong House Stark and the North. Sansa had whispered to him all the horrors done to him by Ramsay and yet in that moment as Ned stood in front of him, all he'd remembered had been the wrongs and deaths Theon had caused.
Theon's blubbering hadn't helped, he hadn't recognized the creature looking back at him with Theon's eyes. He'd seen broken men before...those that had been destroyed by war and Robert, who at the end, had been destroyed by peace and the crown that had been forced on him by fate. Theon...he never seen such a look in a man's eyes before.
It was the second night now...a second day's travel distance from Winterfell and he knew he had to speak with Jon now. There was no more time to hide...and Howland kept looking at him and giving him his damn knowing look. His friend was far too perceptive, much to Ned's annoyance.
Ned walked through the camp, the men nodded at him in respect as they passed him. It was a simple camp they hadn't pitched any tents, they had sleeping rolls with the House standards flying over where the Lords and King was sleeping. The Stark direwolf flew next to the red dragon of House Targaryen. The Black lizard-lion of House Reed was pitched elsewhere as was the merman of House Manderly.
As he approached their camping site, he saw Bran leaning back against a tree, Hodor sitting by his side, Jojen was on the other side and Summer lay sleeping at his feet. His hackles were raised as he neared and saw Bran's eyes open and completely white. Bran's body may have been there but his mind was...elsewhere. Neither Robb nor Jon were there.
Jojen heard him as he approached. Howland's son looked much to serious all the time. He wasn't as emotionless as Bran had become, but the boy was strange...at times his eyes looked ancient.
"His Grace is walking the camps now," Jojen said without prompting, "He should be checking on the horses by now." Those ancient eyes were watching him now.
The hairs on the back of his head stood up at Jojen's unlooked for answer.
"...this is the best time to speak with him," the boy finished with an expectant look.
He didn't answer the boy, he just struggled to keep his face blank as he nodded back politely before going to find Jon.
A brisk walk to the outskirts of the camp brought him to where the horse were being housed. There were guards walking their rounds about, but they kept their distance from Jon as he tended to his own horse.
As he approached, Ned steeled himself and called out gravely, "We need to talk Jon," he began.
Jon stopped brushing his horse and turned to face Ned. Despite the near darkness, the dark colours of his clothes were still distinguishable from each other. The dark red and black still could be seen clearly. As could the great Red Dragon that was stitched blazonly across the chest of his tunic.
That had been another surprise. Sansa's time before they left had been anything but idle. Whatever time she'd had left over from preparing Winterfell for the winter, she'd been spending stitching and making new clothes for Jon. And it hadn't been just her, Sansa had co-opted the skills and time of many of the ladies of Winterfell. All his new clothes were done in red and black. All with the Red Dragon of House Targaryen. It all made Jon stand out and brought out startled looks from everyone the first time he'd worn the clothes. She had even managed to customize his armour, she'd had Mikken engrave the Targaryen dragon all over Jon's armour.
Sansa had smiled smugly as she observed the results of her work, though she had lamented that she hadn't had time to properly fashion him a crown.
What would you think of him now, Lya? What would you think of me? I tried to keep my promise.
Jon was looking at him now, with a resigned look on his face. His eyes betrayed nothing and they stood looking at each other for a long moment before Jon sighed.
"Aye, we do," he said sadly. He looked around them before gesturing for Ned to follow him.
Ned followed and Jon led them away from the horses. They walked and reached a small clearing, within the camp but well away from most everyone else.
Jon turned back to Ned, "I heard what happened with Theon," he began, "...you were a little hard on him."
Ned gaped at Jon, "What? Hard on him?!"
"Sansa and I saw him before we left, she hadn't seen him that bad since Ramsay still had him. He's not the Theon you once knew. No one is harder on Theon than Theon now. He's not glib or smug anymore...not after what Ramsay did to him," Jon explained in a troubled voice.
Ned pursed his lips, his feelings ran rampant through him. On the one hand, he knew that he'd come down on Theon harder than he wanted. He didn't want to admit I, but he had to, all the events that had happened, all the changes had gotten to him. His patience was strained to breaking point and no matter how he tried to be calmer, his own wolfsblood was bubbling closer to the surface than he was comfortable with.
On the other hand, Theon had betrayed Jon and sacked Winterfell...and that was not something any Stark could easily forgive. Or forget.
Ned remained silent and didn't retort. Jon was eyeing him with an unreadable expression in his eyes, his face was blank and for a moment Ned imagined that he was actually looking in a mirror. Was this what others felt they were faced with his own judgment?
"This isn't what I wanted to talk about," Ned finally managed to say.
Jon's face became graver.
"...I'm sorry Jon." Ned began, "I should have told you the truth. You should have known about your mother before joining the Night's Watch, you should have known everything, but..." he trailed of as his words failed him. What could he say? What excuse could he make for his failure?
"She made you promise father. Promise me Ned, she said. She begged you to keep me safe. You couldn't break that promise," Jon stated gravely, his eyes not leaving Ned's.
Ned felt faint, the blood draining from face as Lyanna's final words were quoted back at him by her son. Words he couldn't possibly know. Words that he hadn't even shared with Howland. Words that had haunted and tormented Ned since the Tower of Joy.
"How do you know those words?" he demanded hoarsely.
Jon gave him a commiserating smile, "Bran told me. He was there at the Tower of Joy. He saw everything that happened there."
Of course it was Bran. The Three eyed Raven sees everything.
Ned felt like banging his head against a wall. Every. Single. Time. Every single time, something unnerved him so much, it was always Bran's fault.
"You had to protect me from Robert. All he saw was Dragonspawn. I know what Tywin Lannister had done to my siblings," Jon's hands clenched in anger, "Siblings I will never know," he spat angrily.
Ned felt another stab of pain at that. The small bloody bodies of Rhaenys and Aegon, wrapped in Lannister red were yet another of his failures. The siblings Jon would never have a chance to know. If he hadn't been distracted by Jaime Lannister's kingslaying, he might have reached Elia and the children before the Mountain!
Again Ned cursed the damn Kingslayer and his foul actions.
"I told you that first night, I understand. It was an untenable position. There was no perfect solution." He stopped and gave Ned a kind smile, "There's nothing to forgive..." he paused again, "Though...all things aside, it would have been nice if Lady Stark could have been a little nicer to me."
Ned reddened with embarrassment, Cat's actions had always strained his honor and played on his mind. In the aftermath of truth and the changes, Cat had been treading on very thin ice, and she knew it.
Ned cleared his throat, "I am sorry that I did nothing. Cat has always been..." he stumbled over the right words.
"Difficult? Arrogant? Rigid? Southern?" supplied Jon in unamused amusement.
Ned winced and cleared his throat, unhappy to have Southern thrown in his face. He'd heard it too many times from his own bannermen for his own comfort.
"Despite her, Robb, Sansa, Arya, and Rickon are my siblings. My cousins are my siblings. Nothing will change that. Winterfell is the home I always longed for through everything that happened, I am King now, but I will always be of the North," Jon stated evenly, "But I am also of the South now. For one, I have more family now."
Ned frowned at Jon's blatant omission, "What about Bran?"
Jon's lips thinned, "Bran will always be my brother...but the Three eyed Raven is not Bran."
It was Ned's turn to feel anger. It was useless to feel anger now, but it still bothered him. He quickly jumped to another topic his nerves were frayed enough without touching on the creature Bran had become.
"The rest of your family?" asked Ned. The rest of House Targaryen...what was left it anyway. Daenerys and Viserys. They were across the Narrow Sea now.
It was Jon's turn to become dour. For a moment he looked like the brooding young boy he always known and the King he was now.
"I met Maester Aemon when I first came to Castle Black," Jon stated, a smile started playing on his lips.
Maester Aemon? He thought in confusion for a moment before his mind reminded him who exactly the maester of Castle Black had been before he'd joined the Citadel. It jarred him as he realised that Aemon would be Jon's, several greats, Uncle.
"...I will be glad to see him again. He is a good and wise man," Jon said with a proud smile. "He shared with me a lot of wisdom before he died."
"How did he die?" Ned asked, curios.
Jon nodded, "In the middle of all the tragedies and battles that were happening, old age finally caught up with him." He explained in mild disbelief and grudging respect, "It will be good to see him again, especially now that I know that truth."
Ned nodded understanding the sentiment, "And what of your other relations...what of Daenerys? Sansa and Arya have spoken very highly of her." She had to be a special woman to gain the respect of both his quarrelsome daughters. He had never known them to agree on much...if anything before.
Jon suddenly had a look of longing in his eyes, "Daenerys is...special. I met her as the King in the North, looking for allies against the Others. After the Night's King killed one of her dragons...we became...close. We stayed close till the end."
Ned started, "You and her were...close?" The intensity of that word triggering alarms in his mind.
Jon gave him a chagrined smile, "Very close."
Understanding came to him, "Oh..." Close. Targaryen close. Yes, Lyanna was definitely going to be waiting for him with a heavy mace now.
Jon remained silent, just giving Ned a look.
The silence deepened setting Ned on edge. He dragged a hand through his hair, "And this...this is something that will happen again? It is decided?"
Jon's resolve seemed to break for a moment before he answered, "No."
Ned was taken aback by the answer, he frowned in surprise, "No?"
Jon nodded, "We will do as duty dictates." He sighed before continuing, "We talked before the end. Several misunderstanding aside, I do love her. And I know she loves me. But we have to do what is best for Westeros, not what we desire." He began pacing back and forth, deep in thought. He spoke as he paced, "Depending on how things are changed, I may end up married off to Margaery Tyrell to secure the Reach in our favor. She may have to marry a Lord Paramount...Edmure Tully is a possibility...we even discussed the probability of her marrying Robb to satisfy the Northern Lords' sense of honor and justice."
Ned stared in surprise. Robb married to the woman Jon loved? Lya would be waiting for him with a rusty knife if that happened! He knew how agonizing duty could be! Violet eyes returning to haunt him again, now more than ever.
"But all of those plans were part of the original plan. Everything has changed now," Jon finished in unease.
They both stood there pensive as unpleasant possibilities continued to occur to Ned.
"You have an uncle as well. Viserys. What of him?" He asked, moving the conversation forward. Viserys could also be used to secure Jon's throne.
Jon expression turned darker. He was silent for a long moment, "Viserys was his father's son," he admitted slowly.
Ned winced and then frowned greatly. A second Mad King was not something anyone would tolerate, "If that is the case what will you do with him?" he asked unhappily.
"Best case, he'll be locked away in some remote tower. He'll want for nothing, but he'll have no power. No matter how mad he is...he's still family," Jon said with a grimace.
Ned nodded sagely, "'Tis the honorable thing to do...but what if..."
Jon waved a placating hand in Ned's direction, "He could insult the Dothraki again...or try something with Daenerys's dragons..." he paused and let out a heavy breath, "That would neatly deal with that problem. But whatever happens it will be Daenerys's decision in the end, not mine. His fate is hers to decide."
Ned paled as he understood Jon's words. A dead Viserys would make matters much simpler...but Jon was no Kinslayer. He paused as he repeated Jon's words mentally, "What did you mean insult the Dothraki, again?"
Coldness gripped Ned's insides as Jon quickly explained. He told him about Viserys's first death. Threatening to cut out his own sister's unborn child was something that would not have been tolerated amongst the Highborn of Westeros...never mind the barbaric Dothraki. Khal Drogo's actions were far from merciful...but he doubted any Westerosi Lord would have acted differently. A quick trial first at least, then an equally quick execution probably.
Ned became lost in his thoughts, this conversation had been as heavy and emotionally draining as he imagined it would have been...but it brought more to light than he had imagined.
Jon and Sansa were still keeping things from him...but he knew they'd tell him when they were ready. He couldn't force it.
"Was there anything else you wanted?" Jon asked when Ned remained silent.
Ned shook himself from his revere.
"No, Jon. I think I've said all that needed to said," Ned said with brooding smile.
Jon nodded, he gave Ned a hard look, "I can only do what duty compels me to do now. No matter what, we have to defeat the Others, all other concerns come after that."
Ned nodded, a sense of pride filling his gut at Jon's commitment. He was surprised when Jon suddenly came to him and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. He returned the hug quickly, happy to have this reassurance. The boy he knew still existed under the King's Duty.
"You're always going to be father no matter what," Jon said hoarsely into his ear. "Thank you for everything, Father."
Ned gripped him harder for a moment before finally letting go of Jon. They stepped apart and Ned looked again at the man Jon had become.
I will keep my promise Lya...and you would be so proud of him...
He nodded once before turning around and walking away...before Jon could see the tears in his eyes.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Jon Targaryen
He watched with a lighter heart as the man that was his father in all but blood walked away. The talk he'd been dreading and avoiding had happened...and it had been less painful than he imagined for either of them.
No shouting. No accusations. No recriminations...apart from Lady Stark, but that was always going to be sticking point between them.
Still...it had brought painful thoughts to the surface. He sighed, he'd been trying not to think of Daenerys. Bran kept saying she was fine, that the dragons had been reborn, but he wouldn't be happy till they received some word from her. Never mind what arrangements they might be forced into in the future. His words to his uncle hadn't helped. If he focused too much, it would distract him from what he had to do. His focus had to be on the Others. Nothing else mattered till they were defeated.
A nuzzling at his feet caused him to look down, Ghost had come to him when he wasn't looking. Ghost latched onto Jon's pant's leg puling at him. He followed the urging and bent down to scratch at Ghost's head. Ghost was a still a growing pup now, he was still small- smaller than a dog but he was growing as rapidly as Jon remembered. Already, he couldn't be considered a runt any more.
"Hey boy, that went well, didn't it?" Jon asked.
Ghost ignored the question and leaned into the hand that was scratching his head, closing his red eyes as he enjoyed the sensation.
Jon sighed, it had gone better, but there was still much more that Uncle needed to know...would know, when the time was right, "I'll tell him about Arya soon enough. And Jorah. And Jaime. The right time will come."
Ghost lifted his head away from Jon's hand and sniffed noisily, giving him a knowing, dubious look that a direwolf pup should not have been able to give.
"There will be a right time to tell him. I'll tell him about Arya, Jorah and Jaime when it's the right time," Jon said in annoyance.
Ghost's red eyes just continued staring back, unconvinced.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Cersei Lannister
She held her knees to her chest as she languished in one of the Black Cells.
The days were starting to run into each other, sitting in the darkness waiting for whatever came next. She didn't know how many days had pasted since the madness came. She didn't know what Robert and Renly were thinking, she just knew that everything had crumbled. She hadn't recognized the Renly that had confronted her. He'd looked more like Robert when he was angry than that weak sword swallower she knew Renly to be.
Her heart had frozen in fear as he named her precious children as Jaime's bastards. He'd dragged her screaming from her rooms all through the Red Keep till they'd reached the courtyard around the stables.
They had been a battle ongoing, she saw the dead bodies of Redcloaks littered amongst the rest of the dead. But many Lannister men had been gathered in the courtyard as Renly and his men approached...and for a moment she'd seen her salvation. He'd been sitting golden and as beautiful as ever, astride his warhorse. Myrcella had been sitting safe with him, protected by her true father.
Jaime would save her, he'd cut down Renly and all his men. Then they'd ride off back to the safety of Casterly Rock with the children.
She'd screamed and Renly had shouted his obscene demands.
Jaime had seen her and frozen...
Then the impossible had happened.
She couldn't even scream after that. Her mind refusing to accept what was happening. She had to have heard Jaime wrong, he was incapable of saying such words!
It was a nightmare!
It had to be a nightmare!
For so many days, she couldn't believe it was anything but a nightmare....
It was not possible that Jaime...her Jaime had left her to die!
...no worse!
Actually told Renly to kill her!
And what madness? Jaime was the mad one now! Renly was mad as well! They were all mad! She was the sane one!
She had to have heard Jaime wrong!
Jaime and Her. They were one. Two halves of the golden Lannister legacy. Nothing could drive them apart! Not Robert Baratheon! Not Father! Not even the gods themselves!
She didn't know why she was still alive, if Robert truly knew, she should already be dead. Nothing would stay his hand if he knew.
No...Renly must have acted without enough evidence...but if so, why was she still in a cell? If that was the case, Robert should have freed her by now...
She shook her head, nothing made sense!
She grit her teeth as her anger threatened to overtake her.
Whatever had happened she at least took solace that all her children were safe with Jaime. He'd taken them with him as he left. Whatever madness was afflicting Jaime, he'd still protected the children.
She took a deep steadying breath, controlling her rage.
Jaime had forsaken...but Father...he would come for her!
She was still alive...and Father would come for her!
She fed off her rage and imagined what Father would do to those that had wronged them.
She would survive...and they would all pay for this!
Notes:
Author's Notes: Hope you liked that :) I just added the
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone