Truth and Duty
"You are no knight, I know you. You are Florian the Fool." She tilted her head elegantly, her red hair tumbling in waves behind her.
I bowed and gave a nod. "I am, my lady, as great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight as well." I puffed my chest and grinned.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "A fool and a knight? I have never heard of such a thing."
"Sweet lady, all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned."
At that she finally cracked a smile.
"Ah, finally a smile from fair Lady San-er- Jonquil."
A knight and a fool.
This world was truly funny.
Hours ago I felt as noble as a knight.
But just as quickly that feeling has been stripped away leaving me as just the fool.
A fool that truly knew nothing.
Now a fool forced to know everything.
"Agh!"
"Yield, my lord. I do not wish to end you today," I pointed my wooden sword at my opponent's chest, his dark auburn hair matted to his forehead and neck.
He sighed and nodded. "Aye, I yield."
I grinned and extended a hand at him which he took to stand.
"You fought well Lord Cregan Stark. The finest I've ever fought," I paid with respect.
He laughed bitterly then nodded. "Aye, but you were the better man, my prince. It's an honor to have fought the Dragonknight and to have lived."
"Brother! Aemon!"
"Aye, the princess approaches, most likely to both scold and reward you," he chuckled.
I turned to look at my sister and opened my arms to her to which she jumped at me, her flowing red hair whipping around me as I twirled her around.
"I'm happy to see you Naerys."
"As am I, my prince."
Prince.
Before I knew it I found myself in the Godswood with nothing but the moon, the heart tree, and ghosts of the past enacting scenes that were played on this very spot.
The ghosts taunting me with my past trying to reconcile with my… future as it seems.
The ghosts bringing up the desires I had as a child, the same desires I cast aside as desires that can never be because of who I am – was – and how in the end, I had all the right to each of them. Every last one of those desires… I was meant to have all of them all along and more.
Prince.
The word tasted foreign in my mouth.
Prince.
My feet started moving again.
"From this day forth there would be but one king in Westeros!" I proclaimed while my sisters stood proud on each side of me.
Arya chose to play no one but Visenya, the warrior queen while Sansa was content to be Rhaenys, the beloved queen.
"And I name you, Lord Orys Baratheon as my hand of king," I nodded at Robb.
"Only if next time I get to be Aegon," he chuckled earning a displeased chorus of protests from our sisters.
"Roooob! Stay in character!" Sansa huffed. "You're ruining it!"
Arya gave him a cold glare, pointing 'Dark Sister' at him.
Robb always quick to Sansa's fits immediately apologized and promised to stop jesting and earning a smack from Arya. I chuckled.
And then when Uncle Benjen found us later on, he scolded us for pretending to be Targaryens, reminding us that is was frowned upon.
Robb never got his turn to be Aegon.
We never played dragonknights after that.
"You are the true crowned prince. You have the right to the Iron throne."
Heir.
My throat dried up.
King in the North.
And now…
Rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. The rightful heir.
I swallowed.
How many times have I dreamt of being something more? How many times have I yearned to be noble and honorable like the knights and princes and kings from the songs? And how many nights have I spent trying not to cry knowing I could never be any of that? How many times have I still tried?
Snow. Bastard. Steward. Lord Commander. King in the North. Stark.
Now this.
Throughout the many names given to me only one thing was constant.
I was motherless.
I have always been motherless.
I don't know what compelled me to venture down… the furthest you could go down in Winterfell but I was here.
It took some time but now I forced myself to look up to this granite pillar bearing the likeness of a woman well known to all.
A face and a name finally to put to the faceless, nameless woman I've been yearning to call mother.
The Winter Rose of Winterfell.
She-wolf of the North.
Queen of Love and Beauty.
The woman who men have started a war for.
Lyanna Stark was my mother.
The second wife of Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen in a secret marriage that ended with the prince's death as well as the death of the dragon line of reign as was known until now…
Until me.
And my beginning was her end.
My existence, the lie that distanced Eddard Stark and Lady Stark.
I thought I was just the last known living male Stark with Bran missing and presumed good as dead. The House and the Northern Kingdom pushed upon me.
It took so much and only this night with Sansa to make peace with that and then this.
I was still a Stark.
But I was also a Targaryen.
Possibly the last.
My eyes were burning, my throat was dry, and my body was trembling. My hands went to my hair and began pulling as I shook, trying to make sense of it all.
Everything I knew was a lie.
Who I was.
Who I am.
Just who am I really?
What if this was also a lie despite the documents shown me?
What was real?
What was true?
All my life, all I've been trying to do was to be more than what they saw me. More than just the Bastard of the North.
More than just Ned Stark's bastard.
And all along I wasn't.
All my life I just wanted to be like my father. Eddard Stark was the father who raised me. The one true proudest thing I cling my ideals and aspirations to. He was proud of me and he claimed me as his own and that was all that mattered.
"You might not have my name but you have my blood."
At the time he said that, pride, honor, and love filled me and it was all I needed to think about to give me strength to carry on.
How was I supposed to know that he was trying to tell me something else entirely?
"The next time we see each other, we'll talk about your mother."
But the truth found me anyway.
Eddard Stark was not my father.
He was my uncle.
I wanted to retch from the ill feeling. Am I to deny everything then? Cast it all away? Kill the past?
All I wanted since I was young was to be the Lord of Winterfell and now my hold is weak – my claim contestable.
I was not meant for the North.
I wanted it after all.
Seven hells, I've always wanted it.
My knees sunk to the ground and I was rocking back and forth.
How can I be a Targaryen?
How can I be the last dragon?
My burnt right hand proved against it.
Then I stilled and remembered.
I took off my glove and stared at my palm still wrapped in white, both tawny and red eyes of wolves staring back at me.
"And now you must remember too. You. Are. A. Stark." Came Sansa's voice clear and forceful.
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. I am still a Stark.
I am still a Stark.
I am still a Stark.
Then I looked back up at Lyanna's – my mother's carved face.
Father – no –Uncle, I tested and it sounded wrong in my mind. Ned Stark, I amended, never spoke about her. All I knew was what everyone knew since that tourney at Harrenhal. That and her likeness as seen in my sister – no – cousin Arya.
Cousin.
I sucked in a breath.
Sansa was now my cousin.
I bit the inside of my cheek.
And suddenly all thoughts and ideas flooded my mind, tapping into even deeper thoughts and desires, unearthing shame and guilt and – and relief?
I shook my head confused as ever. How can I even think about such things right now?
I chastised myself and tried once more to make sense of everything. What was I supposed to do now? What can I do with this information? Think. Think, Jon.
Then suddenly all my senses were alerted as I was made aware that I wasn't alone anymore. I didn't need to turn around to know who this was. There was only one person who can make my body react without second thought to her presence.
I stilled.
Waited.
And finally a few feet behind me Sansa stopped her approach, giving me space.
No.
I wanted to scream at her to be closer.
I needed her to be closer.
But I can't for the life of me, move.
She knows.
I told Howland Reed to tell her and her alone because as much as I wanted to be the one to tell her, I didn't think I still stands. I can barely wrap my head around it. But she had to know.
She can be the sole regent now.
She can be the sole Lady Paramount of the North.
Now no one can contest her claim as Queen in the North.
As much as I admit to finally embracing my given reign of the North, I would only take it with a clear conscience if I was the last Stark alive but I wasn't. The North rightfully belongs more to Sansa. And I fully support her claim without question.
"Jon?" she finally broke the silence, her tone wary, testing, yet gentle.
I let out a deep breath and forced myself to relax, choosing to sit on the floor, keeping my eyes closed and the back of my head resting at the foot of the granite effigy of my mother.
Nothing but the sound of our breathing filled the dark and cold crypt, the pillars silent and unmoving witnesses.
I knew she still remained where she was, gauging me, worry probably etching her pretty face. Sighing I finally opened my eyes and looked at her.
She was shivering in her hastily drawn furs, her thin nightrail peeking amidst it. Her hair was unbound and flowing wild burning copper in the firelight and her bright blue eyes wide and wavering, filled with concern. Beautiful.
"You are freezing. Come sit beside me, Sansa. Please, sweetling," I beckoned trying hard to quell the desperation in my tone.
Wordlessly, she walked closer and sat quietly beside me, her eyes never taking themselves off mine.
I took of my cloak and wrapped her at once shushing her protests. I felt nothing of the cold right now. Only her.
We sat silently with only our shoulders touching until finally I felt her tentatively slip her hand in mine sending a shiver down my spine, her favor still wrapped around it now lay between our palms. I almost let out a sigh at the welcome contact.
I adjusted and laced her fingers with mine tightly. She squeezed lightly and I took that as reassurance.
"I don't know what to do," I admitted. "What I should do."
"We'll figure it out," she promised.
Then she made me look at her, her other hand lightly touching my face. "But I don't care about that right now. I care about you. How are you holding up right now? And tell me true, Jon."
I placed my hand on top of hers and held it to my cheek. "It's a lot to take in."
She gave me a sympathetic smile.
Then I looked fully to her and held both of her hands tightly in front of her. "Sansa, who am I?"
Confusion and surprise colored her features as her mouth opened and struggled for words.
I squeezed her hands tighter and urged her with my eyes. "I need you to tell me who I am. Who am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to be? Who am I, Sansa? Who am I?"
"You are Jon."
She wrenched her hands from my hold and brought them to my face. "You. Are. Jon. They may call you many names and give you many roles but whatever it is they call you, whatever role you have to fill, you are still you. Jon."
I closed my eyes tight. "I am a Targaryen."
"Yes. But you are still, a Stark."
"What do I do, Sansa? Please tell me," I pleaded.
"The question of what you should do can wait for a moment. What you should be thinking about first is what you want to do and we'll work around that."
I gaped at her incredulously. "What I want could hardly matter against what we need to do! What our duty demands!"
Her eyebrows furrowed and she pulled away from me and crossed her arms in front of her. "Fuck, duty."
My mouth hung. Did Sansa just curse?
She lifted her chin defiantly. "You heard me right, Jon. Fuck duty. Fuck propriety. I don't care. I don't want to talk about that now. We've come too far to fear anymore. And its just you and me right now. Others take them, but with me you can be honest. We don't need to pretend with each other or hold back. Haven't we bared enough to each other yet? I don't feel like hiding anymore with you. You need but ask and I will tell you what you want to know. I'll never push but I want you to feel the same with me. You told me yourself right? Trust?"
Her eyes burned sincere and resolute as they bore into mine.
"We can talk about duty later once we've sorted out what you want to do first. If we're going to make decisions, we're doing it with no reservations - yes we need to be smart about things but we need to let our heart out too. And this..."
Her eyes softened as she shook her head at me. "This news is not just something. This isn't any trifle thing. It's not something you can just take so easily. I can't even imagine what you're going through... so yes. Fuck them all. What matters is you."
She placed a hand on my cheek and I all but leaned into her touch, my eyes never wavering from hers. I was still outwardly staring at her in disbelief.
She studied me before sighing and speaking once more.
"Do you want the Iron Throne?" she asked.
I shook my head roughly. "No."
"Do you still want the North?" she asked after a beat of silence.
"I cannot have it. It's not mine to have anymore," I confessed.
She looked at me long and probing, searching and thinking before she spoke, weighing her words carefully. "No one has to know," she offered yet we both knew the weakness of that statement. Now that the truth was out, no matter how hard we kept this secret among the three of us with Howland Reed it wouldn't last long.
"They'll know. Everyone will know. If not now then soon and chaos will result," I clenched my teeth.
Her eyes regarded me sadly but she kept silent.
"Now we'll even have more enemies than before. Seven hells! I'm putting you in even more danger!" I threw my hands in the air.
Moving quickly, she placed one hand on my shoulder, the other firm the back of my neck trying hard to calm me. "Stop. Stop it Jon! Focus. Stay with me. Let's be rational. Let's think first. Don't go there. Stay with me. Please."
I took several deep breaths and wrapped my arms around her to calm myself, pressing my forehead against hers. "If they find out they'll make me leave. I can't leave you."
"That won't happen. If the truth comes out it will be at our terms. We just have to think for a minute. Plan. You were right to wait for Lord Baelish to leave before talking to Lord Reed. We still have time before Littlefinger comes back. And by the seven, you will not leave! They can't make you – for gods sake they are sworn to you before all this and they are sworn to me too and I will never allow it!"
I held her tighter.
"I think we should call someone in here. We need to plan, Jon. As much as I don't like risking the wrong people to know, the right people need to know this from us. And we need to plan fast. Wait here. I'll call Ser Davos, Ser Reed as well of course, and Lady Brienne… even Tormund. Davos and Tormund, they are your most trusted right? Wait here and I'll call them –"
I silenced her with a look and shook my head. "Tomorrow."
She frowned, disagreeing. "It has to be now."
I stood my ground and held her gaze. "Tomorrow." I said firmly. "First thing."
She held her frown stubbornly but I wasn't going to budge this time and she knew that. With a resigned sigh she nodded. "Tomorrow then. I'll take care of summoning them to our solar."
I nodded stiffly. Then loosened my hold on her. I let out a breath and leant my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes. I was exhausted.
She slipped her hand into mine again and laced them with hers.
I let out a short laugh.
"What?"
"Since when did you start to speak such vile language?"
She pursed her lips and sniffed. "I had to go down your level of language to get through to you, your grace."
I barked out a laugh at that and made a face. "I deserved that."
She chuckled. "Well, it worked, didn't it?"
"Aye," I sighed then nudged her shoulder. "It...amused me though. You should spend more time with Tormund and he'll have you talking profanities in no time."
She nudged me back. "And you should spend more time with the likes of Lord Royce. Teach you how to curse less."
I laughed again. If only she knew I already roped Ser Davos into teaching me.
"Tormund... I like him. He's funny. Crass and at times, scary - the horrible stories he tells at times, but funny."
"I changed my mind about you spending time with him. Can't have him scaring you with over the moon stories."
She giggled then yawned. I glanced down at her and saw her eyelids fluttering open and close, heavy with exhaustion. It was well past midnight, I would guess. It has truly been a long night and tomorrow promised a longer day.
"The right thing to do is to let you go back to your chambers," I murmured.
She released my hand and wrapped both of hers around my arm instead and burrowed, leaning into me, her eyes closed. "Hmmm."
"But I would not mind terribly if you stayed a little longer…" I admitted.
She tilted her head and reached up to place a light kiss on my cheek. "I'll stay all night if you let me," she slurred and yawned once more.
I kissed the top of her head and kept my lips there. "Then please stay," I murmured against her hair.
"Then I shall stay," she whispered in promise. "It's still you and me, Jon. No matter what happens, I'm still your Sansa, sister or…cousin. You are still my family. We're still a pack. We'll go through this come seven hells, together."
I reached out and covered her hand on top of my arm and caressed it with my thumb in reply.
Sister.
Cousin.
Family.
If there was one thing that was clear to me in all of this confusion it was Sansa, never mind that until now she was the sole cause of any confusion that I felt. I almost let out a laugh at the absurdity of it all but here it was.
No matter how hard I push it away, no matter how hard I try to reason against it, nothing has ever been clearer as anything I have ever known at this moment.
I now knew how to call my love for her…
…now that I could.
Cousin.
Now it all made sense.
Cousin.
It felt like a reprieve.
Cousin.
It was so clear. Plain as day. In the middle of everything I ended up falling for Sansa. I can finally admit it to myself.
I choked a laugh. Targaryen.
It must be true then. I was never meant to call her my sister. Maybe everything that happened lead to this moment.
It was still wrong in a sense but less so than… It wasn't unheard of. And being a – a Targaryen –being siblings wouldn't even be an issue. I snorted. Now who is clinging to his birthright?
I shook my head and bit my lip. I may be called many names and given different roles but one thing was sure.
It is madness. It is wrong. In a way.
It is reasonable. It is right. As it feels. But all in all…
It. Is. True.
It's my truth.
Whoever I was in this new life, I would always be hers.
To my last breath, and even beyond, I am Sansa's.
I looked down at her and smiled as I saw her already fast asleep, her long lashes fell elegantly on her cheeks, her delicate mouth parted as her quiet breathing evened out - the perfect image of a peace. I would gladly cross oceans and die a thousand deaths if only to give her more peaceful sleep like this.
I traced her eyelids, smoothing down the bags that formed from being up so late this night, to her aquiline nose, her sharp cheeks, and her lips soft as petals as lightly as I could. As much as I could stare at her like this all night, such restful sleep warrants a comfortable bed.
Carefully I gathered her in my arms and started to carry her to her chambers, careful not to wake her and ignored any one I passed on the way, my eyes focused yet hard and dismissing, they would know better than to question me.
Finally, I placed her on her bed and arranged the warm furs over her, Ghost suddenly appearing chose his place as he stretched beside her on top of the furs, his muzzle over her arm while I sat on the bed and took her hand - this is how I would spend the rest of the night.
In the morning, everything I ever knew would change including our relationship. Nothing will be the same now that my eyes are wide open to all the truths that I needed to know.
Everything would change except my love for her.
It doesn't matter how she loves me. If this was all it's ever going to be then so be it.
Jon Stark for the North.
Jon Targaryen for the South.
Jon Snow for the rest.
I don't care.
The only thing I care about is what Sansa needs me to be.
What is the best course of action that would allow her to be free, safe, and happy? That will be my role.
I bent down and kissed her forehead, her nose, and finally, as light as I could, I brushed her lips with mine - only a whisper yet burning every detail into memory as this would probably be the closest I could be to her in this moment of weakness that I will only allow just for tonight – nothing more beyond the touch of her hand in mine from here on.
I can't in good conscience lay beside her tonight, let alone, bring her to my bed. But I will watch over her.
No matter how I feel the call of honor of leaving her in her room I couldn't. I needed her tonight. I needed the reality of her presence with me tonight – just that would suffice greatly for this night.
"A fool and a knight. A king or a squire. Whatever you need, I will provide."
I squeezed her hand and kissed the back of it.
"I love you, Sansa."
And I promise to protect your love and your honor.
Even from myself.
"With that mortal blow, I perish! Agh!" Robb clutched at his 'wound' as I 'withdrew' my sword and proceeded to dramatically fall on his back.
"Curses! I shall have my revenge on the morrow!" Arya shouted before fleeing.
I smiled triumphantly as I made my way to 'free' the princess.
"Take my hand, princess. I have rescued thee!"
Sansa took my hand and I helped her stand. "My brave knight! How shall I ever repay thy bravery?"
I tapped my cheek and bent over to her. "A kiss from thy fair maiden's lips is the reward of rewards."
"Thus you shall be rewarded so!"
She stood on her toes and placed a kiss on my cheek. Both of us not knowing to savor the moment as that was the last I've ever played the hero in our games.
AN: Just three things.
1. There you have it. Jon and Sansa finally know the truth of Jon's heritage. I don't know if you guys want some Sansa POV here especially after all this but ultimately, this is Jon's journey. We'll see, what do you think? And let me know what you think she's thinking. I'd love to know your ideas and insight.
2. And I know, I know as I said before, I might be MIA for a few days or weeks but I was so inspired before I knew it this chapter wrote itself. But now I really do have to leave it like this for awhile until I'm through with my real life commitments.
3. Lastly, just a disclaimer. I own nothing but the plot and before you accost me, I've used some lines directly from the book and the show as I've tried not to veer away too much from the spirit of the Canon. But yes, I've taken liberties. Oh and sorry, this has so far been unbeta'd. Yikes.
Anyway, thank you so much and really, I welcome all thoughts and I'll try to find time to finish this and polish it.
Much love.
