Kill the Boy 4
Winterfell's great hall was large enough to hold near a thousand people, and it was near packed to the brim as the King ate his last lunch in the seat of the North. He looked across the hall, noted with his eyes each of the Starks, his wife and her family, and then they lay on the boy. Jon Snow was troubling, a child of the man he hated and the woman he loved.
Ned was right to keep the truth from him, but now that he knew, there was nothing his old friend could do to stop him from what was about to happen. The man knew it too, merely given Robert that steel glare that never worked.
The fat king set down his wine goblet, his sobriety having been merely a brief event after the incident. Eyes turn towards him as he pulls himself to his feet. There are glares from the Lannister twins, both chained to their table, curious looks from the smallfolk, and a few extra glances between people in the know.
"I want to thank Lord Stark for this hospitality!" he starts, and then he smiles and picks up his goblet in toast. He is joined by near everyone and after the customary shouting has subsided he continues, "Now, many of you have probably already realized that I came here to ask Ned to by my hand. Unfortunately, circumstances have conspired so that he is not my choice."
Many of the people of Winterfell quickly glance at the Lord in question, and those who are swift enough see that Lord Stark gives the king a deferential nod. With the decision revealed to be mutual, eyes return to the king and Robert declares, "I am instead making Tyrion Lannister my Hand."
That gets some startled looks, drawing eyes this time to the dwarf who stood from his seat beside Robert. He was such a small man, and hidden so expertly behind a cooked slab of venison, that nearly none had realized he was present. The dwarf gives a bow of his head to the King, but does not reply verbally.
The people who knew of the Queen's derision of her brother turned their eyes then to her, and saw with certainty that she was not pleased with this turn of events. Beside her though, the Kingslayer had a contented smile as he nodded in appreciation for his brother's new position. It was with this new attention placed on them that most finally realized that they had been chained together.
Many eyes widened, including those of Sandor Clegane. The Hound had not realized that the royal family was in the shit, his charge having sent him off to, in his own works, 'Find a bitch to fuck, that's what Hounds do after all.' So he'd spent the last two nights with a whore named Ros and only came back earlier in the morning at the King's orders. Now he was unsure how to act, as it didn't look like the Royal shit was in any trouble, but the other two Lannisters were. He decided to take a wait and see approach, mostly because he didn't like his odds against a room of Northerners.
"I.. see you've all noticed the Queen's state," Robert notes, drawing eyes back to him. He sniffs heavily, frowns, and then sighs, "I could keep you all in suspense, but the kingdom will know soon anyway."
There is a tense silence, people trailing their gazes from Robert to Cersei, and back again. Most noticed that the Queen looked petrified at the thought that the king was about to reveal some terrible secret. When this was noticed, eyes turned back to the King with burning curiosity.
Robert saw their eyes, their thirst to know, but he would have to sate them with a lie, "It has been revealed that the Queen has indulged in Adultery, in a years long affair that my Kingsguard Jaime Lannister has spent much of his time in my service covering up."
Gasps from the ladies of the court can be heard throughout the hall, and eyes snap to the Queen, who looks at Robert with the kind of hatred reserved for beggars and wildlings. Beside her, Jaime Lannister frowns at the judgemental glares of most of the knights, and he smirks when he sees even the great Ned Stark gazing at him balefully.
"Now, I am enraged," Robert tells the gathered crowd, eyes again moving to him, "But after consulting both with Lord Stark and Lord Lannister, we have decided that I am too close to this matter to judge it effectively without inciting a war that none of us want. Instead, my wife, her brother, and her children who may not even be mine will return with me to King's Landing. Once there, I shall call all of the Wardens, Lord Tywin Lannister among them, to decide their fates."
Muttering permeated the hall, people wondering where their angry and rash drunken king had gone to. It was true, Robert was acting strangely, but you do not act as you normally would when you are haunted by ghosts.
And on the subject of ghosts, he was about to bring more than a few up. He cleared his throat and banged his goblet on the table, "The matter is settled! For now I have another thing that must be done."
Quiet fills the hall, and none can help but wonder where the King intended to go next. He took a deep breath and said, "Jon Snow, step forward."
The bastard of Winterfell, who had been in the back of the hall, silently watching the goings on of the king's court and gently sipping from his own drink, turns his gaze to the king with solemn resignation. He didn't know what the fat monarch had in mind, but no doubt it would put off his plans to travel North with Benjen and the Stark men who would accompany him. He stands slowly, setting his glass down before moving in front of the King's table.
"Boy, do you know your mother?" Robert demands.
"No, your grace," Jon sighs, not sure what to expect, but certainly not an interrogation about a dead woman who his father never spoke of.
"Well I do," Robert tells him, and Jon's eyes furrow. His father had never told Jon, nor anyone else, much about the woman who birthed him, but now the king knew? Robert nods at his incredulity, "I loved her, but she did not love me. Now, seeing you, I can see that she wasn't taken from me or the Starks, that she went with love in her heart."
Jon's furrowed brows lead down to narrowed eyes now, trying to place what the king is saying. He is much slower than most in the room, for though he was in Winterfell now, in his mind he still dwelt years ahead, when old wars were not what mattered anymore, only the new ones did. For the rest of the men and women in the hall, it was obvious what the King was getting at, and they were beginning to wonder if this was where his famous rage would be released.
Robert would disappoint them, though, as he told Jon, "Your mother was my betrothed, Lyanna Stark. Your father was not Ned Stark, but Rhaegar Targaryen."
Jon slowly blinks, and then his eyes widen when he realizes that what that probably means is that Robert would want him dead. He, like everyone else in the hall, knew of the King's rage at the Targaryen family. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable knife in the back, and his eyes close in acceptance.
"You'll not die today, Jon Snow," Robert tells him, starting to move around the table, "I'm sure all of you expect me to kill him, to celebrate the chance to murder one last Targaryen, but I'm not that big of a cunt."
He stops in front of Jon and sighs, "I loved this boy's mother, and if I could name him a Stark I would. But I can't."
He looks around the crowd, "I'm sure even here there are a bunch of stupid bastards who are just waiting for a new legitimate Targaryen to get behind. So you'll stay a Snow, boy."
Jon nods, slowly, not truly sure what the King was aiming at.
"On top of that though, I'll do you the honor of sending you as far away as I can stand to do to Lyanna's child," Robert adds, and he holds his hand out for Barristan Selmy to hand him his sword. The old knight does so with some reluctance, but the King pays him no mind and tells Jon to kneel. When the bastard of Winterfell slowly does so, he continues, "Jon Snow, I name you Lord of the New Gift. You are to produce the sustenance necessary for the survival of the Night's Watch, and you are to seek peace in the realm in any way you can. Go make peace with the fucking Wildlings, as long as it keeps you North of the Neck."
He hands the sword back to Barristan, and as Jon rises he tells the boy, "Gods above, if you ever come that far South I'll have to kill you out of principal. Am I clear?"
Jon slowly nods, "Yes, your Grace."
"Then get the fuck out of my sight," Robert growls, at the same time giving the confused Lord Snow a wink.
Jon, still trying to get his head around what was happening, merely nods again and steps away from the king, moves a few steps further back, then turns and walks slowly out of the great hall. As he leaves he hears Robert declare, "Alright, that's it, everyone else out, too! I'm fucking tired. Somebody get me more wine!"
It was a cold afternoon, as it usually was in the North, and as he breathed in the chilled air while making his way to the Godswood, Jon couldn't help but feel just a small bit happy. He'd told his father… Uncle, now, it seemed… that he didn't care to know who his mother was, and that was true. Who gave birth to him did not matter to him, but it seemed that now it mattered to others.
He supposed that the King had made a clever use of his own desire to go beyond the Wall. Not to mention to settle somewhere quietly. With the added benefit of not being allowed south of the Neck, King Robert had essentially revealed why he was being favored and pseudo-banished in one stroke.
In any case, he would be leaving Winterfell in the morning, and when he finally reached his destination, hopefully Ygritte would be there with him. He reached the reflecting pool and sat on one of the roots of the great weirwood tree, closing his eyes as he thought of his lost love. He thought of her hair, her smile, the way her face would shift with her mood. He thought of the Cave, and wondered if he would be able to join her there again.
He hoped she would want him as much as he still wanted her.
"So, Snow, looks like things are a bit different than we thought," Jon opens his eyes to see Robb, standing in front of him with a smirk, "I can tell you, that all caused quite the still."
"I imagine it did, Stark," Jon nods, and smiles.
"And it seems that you're to be one of my future bannermen, rather than a dour brother of the Night's Watch," Robb adds, smiling, "And soon you'll be off to the Wall anyway, how does that happen?"
"The Long Night is coming," Jon tells him, sighing, "No man, Wildling or no, deserves getting murdered by the dead."
"Aye, I think I've seen more than enough to prove old Nan's horror stories already," Robb waves a hand at Jon's chest, "I don't think I need the dead coming back any more than they already do."
Jon snorts, nodding.
"Is it strange?" Robb asks.
Snow's gaze turns up to him, and he frowns in thought. His eyes move from Robb to look at the Godswood and after a moment return to tell his brother… cousin now, "Yes, very. I see people I know are dead, I see places I know are burnt, memories that've haunted me for years are now happening all over again."
"What d'you mean?" Robb asks.
"I'm to head north soon, and… father… is to head south not long after," Jon tells him, deciding to call Ned his father, as he had done for his entire life. In that vein he, the Starks were his brothers and sisters as well, "I fear a war will break out while I'm away."
"Well, if that happens, I'll hold off on making any deals with Walder Frey," Robb assures him, and the chuckle he receives in returns is well worth the joke.
"I'll be expecting to see you again, Robb," Jon tells him, "Don't do anything foolish."
Robb nods, and leans against the Weirwood, deciding to enjoy the time he has left with his brother, now cousin. Occasionally he glances down at Jon, but the new Lord Snow acts much the same as he had the last few days. It was his normal stony calmness, mixed with a measure of resignation and more experience than even father had. Robb knew, that Jon was as much a Stark as he, even more so if his brother's similar attitude to their father was anything to go by. They each had an almost imperceptible air about them that made people want to follow, that slight note that the man has seen and done enough that no matter what you do in life, they will have done it and grown tired of it before you'd even thought of doing it. It wasn't something that Robb thought he'd see in anyone other than his father.
On the subject of Ned Stark, the man in question was standing in his chambers across from his wife, who was not pleased. Catelyn Stark was not having a good week; first she'd had to reassess her treatment of her husband's bastard, then she'd learnt that the boy would not be remaining and had to fight the elation that came with the news, and finally she'd learnt that the boy was not even Ned's bastard at all.
That was the worst of it, truly, for she knew that she would have treated the boy more kindly had she known. She was kind to the other bastards she knew, for her ire was reserved for the presumed betrayal that her husband had forced upon her. And now she knew that there was never a betrayal, that Ned had never been unfaithful to her.
And she was feeling all of that self loathing that had been with her when she had wished him dead as a boy, when she had seen him fall only a few days ago, and now all she could see was this new betrayal. Her husband had lied to her for as long as she had been wed to him, and she had wished an innocent child untold pain for something that had never been his fault.
Now, she wasn't even angry with Ned, merely broken. It was destroying her inside, the way she treated Jon Snow, and her husband could see it happening. She knew he could, his eyes were always so expressive, but he would not approach her. If he did, she would strike him, let all her anger loose on him, forget that she was angry with herself, and then she would be back to the start in a few short hours. She had told Ned to stay quiet so that she could work through her feelings.
Unfortunately, it didn't look like she would be able to come to grips with herself by the time Jon was gone.