Chapter 10
Later that night, Jon was forced to admit that Barristan was right. The feast that night wasn't like any that he'd ever attended at Winterfell. For, unlike the people who were meant to be his family, Lord Reed seemed to consider him an honoured guest, a fact that Jon found unnerving. After all the times that Jon had resented being shoved to the side, for the first time he didn't want the attention. For the first time in his life, Jon actually wanted to hide. However, as Lord Reed's guest, he was unable to leave as he wanted to. He felt trapped.
The longer the feast went on, the more uncomfortable Jon felt. Lord Reed's constantly delighted beaming expression only made it worse. What kind of sicko took pleasure in another's suffering? Jon was disgusted. All that time spent hoping that this man would be a better man than his uncle, all those prayers… all of it for nothing.
As Reed mentioned – yet again – how glad he was that Jon was there, he felt his anger peak. Could the man honestly not see what was right in front of him? Was he so blind as to not be able to read a room? So far the only people who had noticed Jon's bad mood were Barristan and Reed's sharp eyed daughter Meera.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Jon was back in his room, alone but for Barristan's constant watchful presence.
"We don't have to stay if you don't want to." Barristan was the first to speak. "Not if just being around Lord Reed angers you so much."
"No. We're staying," Jon said firmly. "We're staying and asking the man how he could allow my uncle to treat me so foully for so long. How he could be willing to allow my identity to remain buried. I'm getting my answers, Ser Barristan, and then we're leaving."
Barristan nodded, though truth be told he would not be getting much rest that night. He would not be comfortable until they were back on the road. If it were up to him, he would have taken Jon and left that very night.
Even for Jon, though, the night seemed to pass extremely slowly. If he didn't know any better, Jon would have sworn that the universe was attempting to piss him off as well. Jon had meant what he said to Barristan after the feast. As soon as he had gotten the answers that he felt he needed from Howland Reed, he wanted to leave Greywater Watch as soon as possible.
As Jon went down to the Great Hall to break his fast the next morning, he almost walked into Lord Reed. Unfortunately for him, the man simply began staring at him again. Jon gritted his teeth and attempted to ignore it. But after a moment, found that he could not bear it any longer.
"I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me, Lord Reed," Jon said sharply. "Not only do I find it disturbing, it is also rather creepy on your part."
Lord Reed looked startled at Jon's words. "I can only apologise if I have caused any offence, your majesty. My only excuse is that I did not realise that I was doing it."
Jon nodded slowly. He would have to wait to see whether or not it continued to happen while he was here. He really could not stand it.
Lord Reed continued to speak. "As I said when you arrived, I have waited a long time to meet you again. I understand that you may be eager to continue your journey, but I would like the chance to speak to you properly before you leave."
Suddenly, in a hurry to get away, Jon said that he'd meet him by the keep's godswood after breaking his fast.
"Are you certain that you want to have this conversation with my father now? Greywater Watch is likely safer for you than King's Landing will be," a voice said from the shadows behind him.
"I may not be in any particular hurry to reach King's Landing, but this is a conversation that I want to get over with. I feel that I've waited long enough for answers," Jon said before turning to face Jojen. "I have a right to know the truth of my own past."
Jojen smiled at him. "You are wrong to think that the past is what makes us who we are. It is the choices that we make in the present and the future that shows who we truly are. You have always known who you really are. And your journey is only just beginning, Jon."
As he continued on towards the Great Hall and breakfast, Jon had to resist rolling his eyes. How was he supposed to know who he was when he didn't even know the first thing about himself? It was so easy for Jojen to say, the other boy had always known exactly who he was. The other boy had never been lied to about his identity had he?
"It may not be wise to antagonise the son of our host," Barristan murmured as he slid onto the bench beside him in the Great Hall.
Jon scowled. "Of course you saw."
"It is my duty to protect you," the knight reminded him sternly. "And it would do you well to listen to me. Lord Reed could be a useful ally, if he wishes. But he won't be so pleasant to work with if you antagonise him on purpose, Jon."
"I know," Jon groaned. "It's just… this is hard for me, you know?"
"I do," came the reply. "But it does not serve you well to lose your temper when you are about to receive the answers that you desire."
Jon hastily looked up in time to see Lord Reed exiting the Hall. Jon gulped. All of a sudden he felt scared. He knew he had no reason to be frightened, but he was. Despite his fears, Jon attempted to comfort himself with the knowledge that Lord Reed had so far shown no inclination of being at all like his uncle.
"Perhaps we should get going," Barristan gently prompted him. "And on the way, perhaps you can tell me more about these Old Gods and heart trees that you northerners worship. I've never entirely understood it. Much more used to the Faith of the Seven and their ways, you know."
Despite himself, Jon found himself smiling, recognising the diversion tactic for what it was.
"I know you think that I'm simply attempting to distract you, but I genuinely don't know. This is my first time in the North, you know."
Jon felt himself blushing at the reminder but didn't speak until they'd left the Keep's Great Hall behind them.
"In its simplest form, the Old Gods are a nature based faith. Spirits of nature, I think I heard them called once. No priests or Septons or whatever you want to call them. It's the southern faith that has all the rules, after all. There aren't as many rules that we have to follow. The old gods seem a bit more forgiving than the southern ones. The only ceremony that we have that I'm aware of is marriage."
By now they were approaching the Godswood. The sight of the familiar white tree with its bloody smile reassured Jon. For the first time since he had inadvertently made the discovery of his identity, he felt at peace. His life might have changed almost beyond recognition, but no matter where he went, some things remained the same.
Lord Reed was already waiting for them and caught their end of their conversation. "You're quite right there. Now, what do you know about the Godswood and heart trees?"
"The Godswood and heart trees are considered sacred," Jon replied automatically. "Some say that the Old Gods can see through the eyes of the trees, that they answer our prayers by sending the wind. Marriages are performed in front of them and any oaths made in front of them are considered binding. It is said that you cannot lie in the presence of a heart tree."
"Which is the reason I presume that you wanted to have this meeting in our Godswood," Lord Reed confirmed, making Jon nod.
"If I were you, I would put the boy out of his misery," Ser Barristan advised. "He was forced to live a lie for twelve years and it was his own blood that kept the truth from him all these years. When he did inadvertently discover the truth, it was by pure chance. And from what little we have been able to find out, you were there that day. I'd say that the boy has a right to know who he is."
Lord Reed sighed and paused as though attempting to gather his thoughts. "I first met Lady Lyanna at the great tourney of Harrenhal of 278 AC. A group of squires had cornered me, thinking that it would be amusing to abuse the crannogman. It was Lady Lyanna who came to my defence. She introduced me to her family and defeated the knights of the squires that tormented me in the jousts. The only prize she requested was that the knights teach their squires the meaning of honour."
"Lyanna Stark was the Knight of the Laughing Tree?" Barristan gasped, finally putting the dots together at long last. The identity of the mystery knight had long since confused and intrigued him. "And Aerys never found out?"
"He suspected a traitor, as you likely know," was the succinct reply. "But no, he never found out. Of course, Aerys sent Rhaegar to investigate the knight, but it was no use. The knight had vanished by the next morning; his shield hanging from a tree was all that was found of him."
"But Rhaegar ended up crowning Lyanna Queen of Love and Beauty at the tourney," Barristan mused slowly. "Instead of his wife."
"That's what I don't understand," Jon said, cutting into the conversation. "If he was already married, then why would he consider crowning another woman?"
Barristan sighed before speaking. "Rhaegar's marriage to Elia Martell was a political match. They certainly grew to care for each other, but their marriage was most definitely not a love match. I can only presume that Rhaegar discovered that Lyanna was the mystery knight. The idea of her defending her friend's honour would have been something that he admired. In many ways Rhaegar was a romantic."
"He can't have been that much of a romantic if he ended up kidnapping her," Jon said sadly. Despite what Lyanna had said in her last letter, he still found it hard to believe at times.
Howland shook his head violently at Jon's words. "Rhaegar never kidnapped Lyanna. Never. That is a damnable lie that was created during the Usurper's Rebellion. Rhaegar fell in love with Lyanna at the tourney and she fell in love with him. But he was married and she was betrothed. Rhaegar began to petition the Faith for an annulment, with Elia's permission. Lyanna wasn't so lucky, though. No matter how much she begged her father to break her betrothal, he refused. And even if old Rickard Stark had agreed, Robert Baratheon never would have. His obsession with Lyanna was beyond madness. It was as though he truly believed that he owned her. And so, believing that Lyanna would never be free of her betrothal, Lyanna and Rhaegar decided to run away together."
"If my parents were in love and ran away, then how come no one knew about it?" Jon asked. "How come everyone was so quick to jump on the 'kidnapped' bandwagon? Even her own family."
Howland Reed sighed. He had been hoping that Jon wouldn't ask that. But at the same time he couldn't say that he was entirely surprised. "Lyanna wouldn't have risked letting her family know of her decision beforehand. But after she was safely away, she would have sent her family and friends letters, explaining. I don't understand how they never got them. I can only presume that they were intercepted, most likely by Robert."
"Why on earth would he do that?"
"Most likely to regain control over someone he considered his personal property," Barristan said softly. "Both to win Lyanna back and so that there would be a legitimate excuse for him to attack the Targaryens. If the Usurper truly believed that Lyanna was his possession, than he likely would have stopped at nothing to get her back. Even if it was only to spare himself the embarrassment of a broken betrothal."
Jon nodded to himself. He had to admit that it made a warped kind of sense. "What happened next then?"
"Shortly after Lyanna and Rhaegar ran away," Reed continued his story, "they were wed in secret by the High Septon. However, when Rhaegar was called back to fight the rebels, Lyanna was pregnant. With you, Jon. "Lyanna prayed that Rhaegar would return in time for the birth, to meet his newest child. However, it was not to be. Before long, Rhaegar, Elia and their children were all dead." Reed shook his head sadly. "Lyanna's grief hit her hard. I'm honestly surprised that she didn't have a miscarriage."
"And what happened when Jon was born? From what little we've been able to find out, you were there that day," Barristan questioned.
"During the rebellion, there were rumours about the tower in Dorne where Rhaegar had 'stashed' Lyanna after supposedly abducting her. Her brother Eddard was almost as bad as the Usurper, even then. He was desperate to find his sister, to 'beat some sense into her. No matter how many times I attempted to explain that I didn't believe that Lyanna had been kidnapped, Eddard refused to listen to me.
"The day that we arrived at the tower, it was to hear a woman screaming. Lyanna was in labour. In his rush to get to his sister, Eddard attempted to take on Gerold Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne all but singlehandedly."
"Hightower and Dayne were two members of your grandfather Aerys' Kingsguard," Barristan said upon seeing Jon's confused expression. "Good, loyal men and better swordsmen I've never met. I can't believe that Eddard Stark would be able to kill them both without assistance."
"That's because he didn't kill them both," Reed's smirk was almost evil. "In his haste, Eddard never realised that Arthur Dayne survived. The moment that Dayne went down, Eddard immediately presumed that he was dead, but he wasn't."
"Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, lives?" Barristan gasped in shock, tears shining in his eyes at the thought of his former brother.
"Yes," Reed confirmed. "I treated his injuries, told him to flee Westeros and followed Eddard into the tower. Dayne's been living under an assumed name in Essos ever since. Over the years I've sent the occasional letter, keeping him informed of happenings in Westeros and what little I knew of Lyanna's son."
"After treating Dayne, you followed my uncle into the tower," Jon prompted, determined to hear it all. "What happened in the tower?"
"By the time we reached Lyanna, you had just been born," Reed sighed. "Your mother lived long enough to name you Aemon and attempt to elicit a promise from her brother for him to look after you. Unfortunately, Eddard refused and she died without knowing that her son would be looked after. I attempted to ask Eddard to give you to me – my first thought was to raise you myself or give you to Arthur Dayne for him to raise in exile. Once again, Eddard refused, saying that as your uncle, as blood, it was he who should raise you. But that he would raise you as a bastard, and not the prince that you were by right."
"But wouldn't that have raised more suspicions?" Jon persisted. "Bastards are still frowned upon in the North. Not to mention that fathering a bastard in the first place would stain the otherwise perfect honour of Eddard Stark?"
"I don't think that Eddard ever really cared about that," Reed said, shrugging. "In that moment, all he cared about was getting his petty comeuppance over the Targaryens. As far as Eddard was concerned, the Targaryens were at fault for his family's destruction, and they had to pay. Rhaegar had supposedly kidnapped his sister. And then Aerys had his father and elder brother killed. His sister died giving birth to a Targaryen. By the end of the Rebellion, Eddard blamed the Targaryens for everything that had ever gone wrong in his life. So if the last Targaryen scion lived and died without ever knowing who he truly was, then Eddard wouldn't have cared about his honour. As long as the Targaryens paid for what they had done to his family."
"That's insane," Jon scowled briefly. "Not to mention the fact that it doesn't even make any sense. My father's family may have played a part in the deaths of my uncle's family, but you know who didn't help the situation? My uncle's family. And there's no better scapegoat than a dead one."
"I think that's actually the first time you've referred to Rhaegar as your father," Barristan said thoughtfully, looking down at Jon.
"It's been hard for me, since finding out," Jon muttered, more to himself than anything. "But just because I want to deny something, doesn't make that something not true. Because it'll still be true, whether or not I accept it. Life is what you make it, and I still have time to make sure that it's good one."
For the first time that day silence fell over the three of them. As the sun reached its peak and began its descent, they began to discuss what steps would need to be taken next as they attempted a Targaryen restoration. One thing that became quickly apparent was that it would not happen soon, despite what they may wish. As the two men spoke, Jon listened, taking it all in.
"I'm glad that you will be going to court, Aemon Targaryen," Howland Reed said finally. "King's Landing may be a snakepit, but you'll learn a lot at Barristan's side, and from observing the Usurper. How a King should and should not act, for example. But as long as you keep your wits about you, you'll do well."