AN: Please enjoy! Had to rewrite the chapter several times because it was awful and it sounded like I wrote i in the middle of the night :D
There was not a day lately that Jon did not want to be somewhere else, away from the judging eyes of the servants and Lady Catelyn's constant anger. When he was younger, he could not really understand why she loved her own children dearly and had only hatred left for him. As he grew older he learned to understand what it meant to be a bastard. That he was a child born out of wedlock during the war. Lord Eddard had brought him to Winterfell to take care of him. Of course, his presence had insulted Lady Catelyn deeply. She was the lady of their household and being reminded daily of her husband's unfaithfulness and betrayal was hard to tolerate. Yet it had not been Jon's fault his father had not kept to her bed. It was unfair to be treated like that.
Jon wished he knew his mother or at least her name. Nobody ever talked about the woman not even his father when they were alone. After the years Jon began to believe she was a whore in some brothel along the road south or some baseborn tavern wench but most likely dead by now. Her being a whore would explain why he had been taken to Winterfell. A brothel was no place for a child and Eddard Stark would not have allowed his own blood to grow up under such conditions. In the end it did not matter since he would never know the answer to that question. His mother would always remain a mystery. While still deep in mind someone knocked on the door of Jon's chambers.
"Enter!"
It was one of the servants.
"Lord Stark sent me. He wants to see you in his solar immediately." Jon nodded and got up from the chair he had been sitting on. If it was something important, he should better hurry.
Not knowing what exactly awaited him Jon opened the door to his father's solar. The times he had been summoned there could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Mostly, it had to do with Lady Catelyn complaining on Jon's behavior. Today there had to be another reason, because he was sure he hadn't done anything wrong and Lady Catelyn had been away from Winterfell the whole day. His father was sitting behind his desk, a large table made of dark oak wood, when Jon entered the room. He gave his son a sad smile.
Something is clearly wrong! Jon thought and closed the heavy door behind him. Is he going to send me away?
"Please have a seat, Jon. What we have to discuss will take some time so make yourself comfortable!"
"Are you going to send me away from Winterfell?" Jon asked not being able to hold back what he was thinking. He had planned to leave his home when his uncle Benjen visited next time but leaving on his own account was an entirely different story than being thrown out by Lady Stark.
"Of course not, Jon. You will always have a place under my roof" —he paused for a moment—"it is time to talk about your mother."
Jon swallowed hard while he placed himself in one of the armchairs in front of the hearth. He had not expected that. His mother had been a taboo as long as he could remember, the one woman that had managed to even let Eddard Stark forget his honor for a second. Lady Catelyn believed her to be Ashara Dayne, a Dornishwoman and highborn lady from Starfall, but his father would have never dishonored Ser Arthur Dayne's sister. Only a madman would have challenged the Sword of the Morning.
"Why now?" Jon asked curiously.
"You want to go with Benjen to join the Night's Watch. I thought you have a right to know the truth before making a decision. It could probably change your mind."
It does not change the fact that I am a bastard, Father! And that is the reason I want to serve at the Wall. The Black Brothers do not care if I am born out of wedlock! Jon wanted to scream at his father. There was nothing he could think of that would actually change his mind. This was the path he had chosen for himself.
"Then please go on," he answered instead.
"Is it okay for you if she explains for herself?"
Jon stared at him in disbelief. "She is here? Alive?"
His father nodded. "She would understand if you choose not to talk to her. In that case I would explain it to you."
Again, Jon swallowed hard. Suddenly he felt utterly uncomfortable in the cushioned chair. He was beginning to sweat lightly as well. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
"I want to know who she is!"
"You may come in," his father said a little louder and the door to their right was opened. Jon jumped to his feet and turned around to look at the newcomer. The first thing he realized was that she was undoubtedly a northern woman. Her dark brown curls were braided the same way his sister Sansa wore her hair. In contrast to his little lady sister, the woman in front of him was dressed in riding attire, reminding him of Arya. She had a long yet beautiful face and the same dark gray eyes as he had. There was no possible way this woman was a commoner. She held herself in a regal way, her clothes were of a very fine quality and her hair was too shiny. Jon had expected a plainer southern girl from the Reach or the Riverlands. All those years he had thought he had inherited his father's looks and he could not be more wrong. Seeing her he looked nothing like Eddard Stark.
Who is that woman?
She watched him with the same curiosity. "Good evening, Jon. Thank you for allowing me to meet you," she said politely. "I am Lyanna!"
Now he was staring at her with a gaping mouth unable to fully comprehend what was going on. Lyanna Stark had died from a fever at age sixteen in the arms of her brother. She was looking so much like a Stark she could not be someone else. Had she been too afraid to return north after her abduction and being raped.
"Lyanna Stark?"
She nodded. When Lyanna Stark was his mother, then Eddard Stark could not be his father. Him sharing the bed with a whore Jon could believe, but he would never have laid hands on his little sister.
"It seems you have realized—" his father began. No, Lord Stark.
"You are not my father? So, Lady Stark was right the whole time, I do not belong here!" His confusion was slowly turning into anger. Why would Lord Stark raise his sister's bastard when she was still alive and, if not Lord Stark, who was his father? The answer to that question was simple. Lyanna had been abducted and raped by the crown prince, Rhaegar Targaryen.
Great, now I am a royal bastard and the product of rape. Thank the Gods that nobody knows about it!
Still angry he turned to his mother. He could see in her eyes that she knew what he was thinking. Apparently, she felt sad and ashamed.
"As I said before, you will always have a place under my roof. You are my blood, Jon. Not my son, but my blood and I will always protect you."
"Then I want to know the truth why I could not stay with you!" Jon addressed Lyanna.
She took a few steps towards him.
"When I was a little younger than you are now, our maester started to whisper in our father's ear. He began to develop some southern ambitions betrothing Brandon to Lady Catelyn and me to Robert Baratheon. Robert was Ned's idea, but I hated the man. He had a bad reputation and terrible manners. When father told me, I voiced my complaints, but he was adamant to advance his influence south of the Neck. That was also the reason why House Stark attended the great Tourney of Harrenhal, a lavish feast that changed our lives forever!
"Your uncle Brandon had an affair with Lady Ashara Dayne, a lady-in-waiting to Princess Elia Martell. He left her with child and her brother Ser Arthur wanted to kill Brandon afterwards. It took a lot of people some time to convince him not to murder the future Warden of the North. Ned stopped speaking to Brandon afterwards, because he had been infatuated with Lady Ashara."
His fath‒ uncle turned his head away in shame. "I would have married her even with the bastard."
"You see, Jon, that living together with them was not exactly easy. I spent most of the tourney with Benjen and Howland Reed to avoid my brothers' quarrel and jumped head first into my own doom."
"You met my true father there, right?" Jon did not want to cause her pain by talking about it, but the servants at Winterfell had sometimes talked about Harrenhal in the past. To his utmost confusion she smiled at him. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"I met him there at the feast in the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. It was the evening before the first joust. He asked me for a dance, and we talked a lot during the following days. What we did was not appropriate. I was promised to someone else and he was married, worst of all Elia was already pregnant with Aegon."
Jon listened to her story patiently. After some time, it became clear that the rumors about Lyanna's abduction were just that, rumors. Nothing he had heard before was true and she pointed out more than one time that was not unwanted and a child loved by both his parents. His anger slowly subsided and after all the news he was not even surprised by the fact that his father was still alive. But his question as to why he had to live separated from them had not been answered yet. It disappointed him that she had given him away.
"I thank you for being honest, but why had I to grow up in Winterfell alone, away from you?"
"Robert had already claimed the throne when you were born. The Lannisters had brutally murdered Elia and her substitute child and we knew about Robert's hatred for anyone with Targaryen blood. With Dragonstone under siege and the Red Keep being taken from us we had no place to go. Exile was our only option and we both wanted to protect you. Ned offered to take you in and hide you from Robert while we could get settled in our new life."
"So, while I lived here my siblings lived with their relatives in Dorne?"
"Yes, they were raised by their uncle Prince Oberyn alongside his bastard daughters. I wanted you back the moment we found a place to stay, but Ned had assured me that you were happy at Winterfell and Essos is no place for Northerners like us."
At first, Jon thought he felt nothing about these revelations. Maybe a little happy that his mother was still alive, but he was not prepared for the sudden anger he felt inside his body. His rational thoughts started to drift away and made place for unwanted judgement. A second ago he was ready to forgive her for leaving him behind, but that angry side of him did not let go. It grew and grew until it completely overwhelmed him, and he wanted to scream at her, curse her for the life he had to live but never deserved. The rage was like a flame burning through him fighting is way out. It hurt. He was unable to say something and the whole situation was simply to much for him. He got up from his chair and ran out the room. He ran and ran until he collapsed to his knees and felt the tears running down his cheeks. He had never really cried in the past and at the moment he wished that he could be more composed.
"I am truly sorry that I lied to you, Jon. You deserved to know but I was a coward." Jon could barely hear his uncle's words. His ears were ringing, and he did not want the man to see him like this. "I feared that you would run away. I promised your mother to take care of you and the truth would have put you in danger instead."
The truth. Eddard Stark was not his father. Robb and the others were not his siblings. He was not a bastard.
"Is Jon even my real name? Or just another lie to keep me safe?" As the tears dried the rage returned.
"It is your real name. As far as I know you were named after Jon Connington, the late Lord of Griffin's Roost. He died at the Trident and was one of Rhaegar's closest friends and supporters."
Jon had heard the name before in one of Maester Luwin's lessons. Jon Connington had been Hand of the King during Robert's Rebellion and was later exiled to Essos for losing the Battle of the Bells against Robert Baratheon. His whereabouts were unknown afterwards.
"Would you leave me alone? I need some time to think!" Jon said trying to sound more composed than he actually was. The fire was still raging on, but he had regained his ability to think clearly.
"As you wish. I will send Lyanna back to her camp. It's to dangerous for her to stay here. You can meet her there if you wish to see her again." Jon heard his uncle take a few steps before stopping. "There is more I need to tell you. Your parents' relationship may have started as something inappropriate, but the way they handled it later was the right one. Your grandfather Lord Rickard gave them his blessings and sent a letter to the Eyrie to tell Robert about the end of the betrothal. The letter for me never arrived and I was told lies about my sister's abduction. Whoever was involved in that farce or responsible for it most likely wanted to provoke a war!"
How can anything they have done be the right thing? I may not be a bastard, but my existence is just as wrong!
The time to forgive any of them had yet to come. No matter how good the explanation it still hurt terribly. They had betrayed and abandoned him, not only his parents but his uncle as well. He had worshiped Eddard Stark and now he felt lost and even more alone than before. To join the Night's Watch was a decision he had yet to make and he was unsure if this was what he wanted. It was his uncle who wanted him to go for the Starks had manned the Wall for generations.
But I'm not a Stark!
