Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, Ned Stark, Catlin Stark, or any of the other characters. I do not own 9 Crimes either.
A/N: This was inspired by 9 Crimes by Damien Rice. I'd always wondered about the time when Jon Snow was conceived, and this song is perfect. If you don't know it, look it up ASAP! I understand the R+L=J theory, and I'll write a story about that later. For now, Wylla is a camp follower, because I'm the writer, and I can make so occur! ^_^
The war was a hard one. By day, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, fought the bloody campaign against the Mad King. By night, Ned Stark, newly-wed husband, fought the torturous campaign against his heart. At home in Winterfell, he had left his wife, Catlin Stark, who was meant for Brandon. She wasn't even for him. That's what he tried to tell himself. She was Brandon's. Lyanna was Robert's. Who's was he? Only Brandon was dead. She was his.
She had been a camp follower. He dared not speak her name in fear that his treason would become a reality if he did. As he walked past her fire each night, he beckoned her with his eyes. Her long, dark curls made him want. Her soft curves, the swell of her breasts, and the soft, warm, wet spot between her legs made him a slave.
That was the hardest thing about war. Being away from a woman. He made her cry his name every night, used her every night. Nine moons they fought this war. A moon in, he got a raven that his wife, Catlin Tully, no, Catlin Stark, was with child. A moon in, her moonblood was late. A moon later, a swell appeared on her belly. When she'd told Ned, his face had drained of color. He had a bastard on the way. A wife at home, a wife with child, and a camp follower here, a follower with child.
She was close to bringing his child into the world, just as his true heir was at home. This was his last night before he headed back to his "freezing wasteland" as Robert called it. He sought out the closest Weirwood, which was a wild one in the middle of the Whispering Woods, and here, he sat. It began to pour, and still, Ned Stark sat. He could claim it wasn't his, of course. He could claim he'd never had her. "This is no place to be cheating on you..." He screamed at the pouring rain. He hated being a man. He hated everything at that moment. He could leave... No, he would be there for his child. He wouldn't leave him to the wolves, he would be a Wolf. A Snow, but a Wolf.
When he got back to camp, Ned sat in his tent, drinking wine when Robert came to join him. "I've a bastard on the way." He muttered. Robert's eyes lit up with surprise. Ned was the last person he expected to get a wench with child. "I don't deserve to go home to Cat, Robert. I'm a vile creature." Robert's booming laugh filled the tent. "I've fathered plenty of bastards, Ned." "But not since you were betrothed to Ly."
Robert nodded, sighing. "Do you ever long for them?" Ned asked a good while later. "For who?" "Your little bastard girl and boy?" Roberts eyes turned soft. "Ly would be furious if I brought them home." "Cat will be." Once again, surprise hit Robert like a typhoon. He sputtered his wine. "You're taking it home with you?" Ned nodded solemnly. "I won't let it suffer for my mistake. My white Wolf."
"You fucked a wench, Ned, and I..." Ned's bare fist crashed into Robert's jaw. His face was bright red, and he was nearly snarling. The Stag would fear the Wolf, and so he did. "Leave me out with the waste! This is not what I do! It's the wrong kind of place to be cheating on her. It's the wrong time, but she's pulling me through. It's a small crime, but I've got no excuse! Is that alright with you?" Ned started yelling, but finished in a whisper.
Robert stared, wide eyed at Ned, and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You're a better man than me, Ned." Robert left, and Ned slept. He was woken by a midwife. His child was coming. Ned dressed quickly, and held the woman's hand as his son came into the world. A son. For his second father. "Jon." He breathed. Jon, for Jon Arryn.
By dawn, they were riding for home. He took a wetnurse. Catlin would be furious, but she would bow to his will. He was the Wolf, the North was his land. He held the babe as they rode home, except when the wench needed to care for him. He arrived within the fortnight, just as his second son was coming into this world. He sat with Cat as Robb came. The next day, he calmly explained everything to Catlin Stark. She took it in quietly as Ned begged her forgiveness. In the end, it would be that Robb and Jon would grow side by side as brothers. His little lord of Winterfell, and his bastard. His gray and his white Wolf.