AN: Hi, I'm not dead!
Wow, sorry for such a long break, but I was in a production of Les Mis and that took up literally all of my time for the past four weeks. I did have inspiration for the rest of this chapter though during then, but I had to wait for the weekends when I wasn't busy and that took a while. But anyways, here I am! And WHOA! Season 7 man. Just, whoa.
Anyways, thank you to everyone who has continued to leave kudos and comments on this story while I've been inactive, you guys are amazing. So, without further ado, enjoy!
Jon had went through what he would say a thousand times by the time he made it up the tower of the Hand, and he still had no idea what to say to his Lord father, even when he was standing at the door. Hesitantly, he raised his fist to knock, only after doing so regretting it. What if his father didn't want to see him? What if he was still mad at him? Was it even appropriate of him to be here?
Before he could change his mind and bolt down the stairs, the door swung open.
It was his father.
"Jon," he said, surprised. Jon took a moment to take him in. He look tired, like he always did whenever he had to deal with tedious squabbles and arguing lords back at Winterfell. Jon almost felt guilty for coming up here to make his day even longer, but he brushed the thought aside.
"My Lord," Jon managed, standing there awkwardly. "Um, may I come in?"
His father looked around the stairwell hall for a moment, as if checking to see they were alone, before nodding and stepping aside to let him through.
Jon walked over the a table and waited for his father to close the door before joining him.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out immediately. "For the other night, I'm sorry for my behavior, it was, I was out of place."
He expected his father to be angry again, like he had been then, but instead he let out a world weary sigh and sat down heavily on a chair.
"There's nothing to forgive," he said in a heavy tone. "You were right."
Jon balked.
"I was?"
His father nodded. "I do abide by my honor, perhaps too much. And if what you say is true, about Cersei and her threats, maybe I should listen."
Jon felt some of the tension that had been tightening inside him for the past two days loosen up. Not much, but enough to let him breathe.
Slowly, he eased himself into his own chair, to be at a more equal level with his father. He thought for a moment of what he wanted to say, choosing his words carefully. "It's not just that I am sorry for," he admitted. Taking his father's silence as an invitation to continue, he did. "What I said about my mother, whoever she was, it was wrong of me. And I apologize for that."
There was a moment of silence after he had finished speaking in which the only sound to be heard was the rustling of the wind in the silk curtains. There was no fire crackling in the hearth as there so often would be back at Winterfell in the evening, as it was now. The heat of the day chased away any desire for that down here. Thus, it made the silence even more stifling.
"I suppose it is my fault as well," his father finally said. Jon looked up, squinting somewhat in confusion. He went on to elaborate. "I've never told you of your mother," he admitted. "And it must only be natural to make assumptions."
Jon felt a flutter of hope and anxiety built up in his chest. Father never mentioned his mother, at least not of his own provocation. Maybe this was the time Jon would learn of her.
"When you left Winterfell, you said 'the next time we see one another, you would tell me about my mother'," he said, testily. The question in his words was left unsaid. But it didn't need to be spoken for his father to hear it.
"Aye, I did," he conceded. "You want to know about your mother."
Jon could only give a small nod in response.
His father sighed and dragged a hand down his face. He seemed even more wary now than he had when he had answered the door moments earlier. Jon almost regretted asking seeing at how much pain it caused him, but not quite. Jon had waited years for answers after all. But the answer he got was not what he had hoped for.
"Not tonight."
Jon barely managed to conceal the scoff he made.
"Why not?" He asked, trying to keep the whine out of his voice so as not to sound like a child. He felt as though it didn't work.
"I promise you, I will Jon. But here, now," he said, looking around the room as if making an example of it. "It's not right." He was met with a confused and frustrated stare. "You will understand," he sighed in defeat.
How could I? Jon thought to himself. You're making less and less sense, Father.
It took great strength for Jon not to shout again, having learned his lesson last time. He's only protecting me, he told himself, remembering what Ser Barristan had told him about mistakes. And you only protect what you love. He truly hoped that was the case.
"Alright," he said, trying not to let his voice betrayed him. "Well, good night My Lord."
His father nodded and watched as Jon left for the door. But right as he was about to grab for the handle, his father voice called out, "I've learned something which might interest you."
Jon paused in front of the door.
"Yes?"
"We talked about it some time ago, but you said we should share information we learn with each other, however trivial it seemed," his father continued. Jon frowned, he wasn' sure that was how the conversation had gone.
"Not in as many words," was all he said, but didn't bother correcting him. News was news, and he was in desperate need for some good news about now. At his father's insistence, he took his seat again.
"As you know, Lord Stannis Baratheon left for Dragonstone not so long ago," he started. "I learned recently that he and Jon Arryn were in close company before Lord Arryn's untimely death." Jon nodded along, showing he was listening. "Now, I've known Lord Arryn and Stannis for quite some time, they do not seem to be likely friends. In fact, I know they weren't. So that made me wonder why they spent so much time together in his final days. So I went digging."
"What did you find?" Jon asked, leaning forward slightly in interest.
"They would meet in brothels."
Jon blinked.
"Brothels?" He asked in disbelief. Maybe he hadn't heard that right.
"Aye, I thought the same," his father said, confirming Jon's thought. "Neither of them are the type of man to frequent such places. In fact, Lord Stannis tried some time ago to outlaw the institution entirely in the city." Then, in afterthought, added, "Obviously it didn't end up going through."
Obviously.
"But," his father continued. Jon sat in rapt attention again. "He also visited an armory. Both places quite strange for a man who had to care or need for either." Jon nodded along in understanding. A man who wasn't interested in whores visiting brothels, as well as being an old lord who had no need for armor visiting armories. The case of Jon Arryn was a very strange one indeed.
"So what did you find?" He asked.
His father looked him up and down before answering, as if measuring him up so he knew how to word his next sentence. "One of Robert Baratheon's bastards."
Jon sat in Arya's room on the floor with Ghosts head draped over his lap. He and his father had talked for some time about why Jon Arryn was meeting with Lord Stannis, and why he was looking for Robert's bastards, but ultimately, they had come to the conclusion that they needed to know more before they decided on anything.
Outside it was growing dark, as it was now evening, and Jon was waiting for Arya to return from supper to talk with her. In his lap, aside from Ghost, rested a large tome that might have been older than the last Targaryen king. Judging by the yellowing pages, new ones must have been added over the years while old ones had been left to rot and decay as maester after maester forgot about its existence until it became needed.
The book was called The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, With Descriptions of Many high Lords and Noble Ladies and Their Children. Lord Stark had given it to him to look over after their conversation about Jon Arryn and Stannis' disappearance with the comment that maybe Jon would find something in there that he could not. Jon had taken it, and immediately regretted doing so. It was a dull read. Just names and dates and descriptions of people who had long since died. This made Jon even more confused about the late Jon Arryn. Why one earth would anyone one in the right mind want to read this book?
Well, Jon thought. He was sick, maybe he hadn't been in his right mind.
That explanation would make this whole thing easier in Jon's opinion, but he had the sneaking suspicion that that wasn't the case.
Flipping to one of the first few pages, he found the Targaryen line. Just from skimming over the names, it seemed that they all purple eyes and silver hair. Jon tried to imagine what a person with those features would look like, but it seemed to strange to him to properly envision. Flipping a few more pages, he found a name he immediately recognized.
Aerys Targaryen. The Mad King.
The man who had burned his grandfather and killed his uncle. Who split the seven kingdoms apart. Hard to believe such a man could exist. But he had. Beneath him were the names of his sons, Rhaegar and Viserys. Jon didn't know much of Viserys, but from the books account he had the classic Targaryen features, as did Rhaegar.
But beneath Rhaegar, he was surprised to find the prince's daughter did not.
Rhaenys Targaryen, it read. Brown eyes, brown of hair.
For some reason that surprised Jon. She was a Targaryen, why wasn't she born with the classic look of one? Well, her mother had been Dornish, but another look at the page told him that Aegon, her younger brother, did have the look. Interesting. He didn't know why, but that bit of information felt important. He remembered how a Targaryen a few generations back had married into the Baratheon family, but none of the following Baratheon's looked remotely Targaryen. Maybe Baratheon blood was stronger. Apparently not strong enough compared to Lannister blood, as all of Robert Baratheon's children were a spitting image of their mother.
Well, Jon thought. Except for Gendry. It surprised Jon to learn he was the son of the king, but after remembering how the man acted, he wasn't overly shocked. He remembered what his father had told him about his visit to the bastard on the Street of Steel. How Gendry had told him what Jon Arryn had asked him about, which was his mother, what she had looked like, and how he was fairing. Apparently she had looked like Cersei with her golden hair. Which was shocking to Jon because Gendry was the spitting image of a baratheon now that Jon thought back on it. Maybe that had something to do with the book in Jon's hands. Had Jon Arryn been doing research on the Baratheon lineage as a whole? Bastard or not? No, that couldn't be right. The man was most likely killed. And this wasn't something that would warrant such a crime. This was much deeper that it appeared to be if the man was dead and Stannis had fled.
Jon frowned to himself in thought. Just what were you up to, old man?