Chapter 4
He was furious, felt so helpless. He had come here to learn, to help, to do something, Because when the world was falling to pieces, even a coward must be able to do something other than running away from the fights. And he was good at figurings things out but they wouldn't let him! So he ranted, and Gilly listened, unexpected blessing that she was.
Somewhere in the middle of his furious outpouring of words about maesters and their obsession with windows and steps and bowels, his brain caught up with him, knocking him over the head with what Gilly had just told him. A Rhaegar Targaryen… an annulment…
And everything changed.
He ripped the book out of Gilly's hands, ignoring her offended sound, and read. Rhaegar Targaryen, yes. An annulment, yes. A second marriage in Dorne, yes. In 282. He knew the history of Roberts Rebellion well enough; his father had fought in it. And in 282, Lyanna Stark had disappeared, and not been found until after the war. In Dorne, dead.
He was now desperately searching the notes for a name, any name of the bride. And then, there it was. Lyanna. The confirmation made him sick to his stomach, especially since the detail – obsessed maester had added that the couple seemed devoted.
This, Jon had to know. As well as Queen Daenerys. Because if what Maester Aemon had once said was true, Targaryens didn't fare well alone. And Sam knew Ned Stark, who had been known for his honour, had been the one to find his sister. And Jon's eyes was purple in a certain light.
So when Sam and Gilly left Oldtown, they stole that book, as well as all those about the Long Night he could find, and set out for Winterfell.
