Jon Snow was thrown backwards and onto the hard floor of the courtyard, his older brother Robb Stark standing over him smiling a wooden sword in hand.
"Come on Jon you can do better than that."
Jon knew that he could, he could do far better than Robb, in fact if he really tried Robb would be the one in the dirt struggling to get up but he couldn't not while she was watching. The Lady of Winterfell Catelyn Stark nee Tully, the bane of his ten year long life and his father's wife. A wicked women who followed the faith of the seven, a faith which had never influenced the realm beyond driving men and women to do insane things. A faith which unlike most others had no physical presence on the world.
The woman stood on the balcony that looked over the courtyard and glared down at him with a cold hard stare. Her anger at his very existence was known throughout all of Winterfell to practically everyone except his father who seemed to believe that if he left both of them alone and kept them apart neither would be upset. He was right at least right when it came to Jon but the fact that her husband ignored her complaints only seemed to make Catelyn hate Jon even more.
"That's enough for the day you two, go get cleaned off." Ser Rodrik the master at arms had been watching the fight and had decided that it wouldn't do them, or rather Jon any good to continue sparring. If anything it might be helpful to start training Jon privately out of the eye of Catelyn.
Jon picked himself up out of the dirt and returned the wooden sword he had been wielding to the rack of training weapons removing his leather body armour at the same time.
"And the words of house Targaryen Sansa."
"Fire and blood."
"Very good Sansa."
Maester Luwin was sitting next to Sansa a large book on the table in front of him.
"Forgive me Maester but why do I need to know this Maester, house Targaryen were beaten in the war."
"Yes, they were, but like house Blackfyre like any house, as long as a single member survives that house can rise again."
"And why did we need to learn it out here in the cold while Robb trains and why are you teaching me this and not Septa Mordane,"
Jon quickly walked past them and into the corridors that led to his quarters. Any house that had a single member could rise again, that thought went around his head over and over and over again.
One week later:
It had been a week since Jon had overheard Sansa's lesson and a single thought would not leave his mind. If a single member of a house could rise when their house was all but destroyed, then surely a bastard could create and raise a new house of their own. And with that single obsessive thought running through his head Jon sat in the small library within Winterfell's walls searching desperately for the stories of bastards who would make their own names and raise up a house of their own.
"Did you require my assistance Jon,"
Looking up Jon saw the face Maester Luwin staring down at him.
"Ummm no thank you Maester Luwin,"
"Very well but may I ask what are you looking for I may be able to help."
Jon thought for a second and looked up from the large book he had been reading once again.
"I'm looking at houses, I'm trying to see if in the last three hundred years a new house has ever risen."
"Well of course they have Jon it's rare but it happens."
"With the first member of that house being a bastard."
"Ahhhh, I see."
Maester Luwin paused for a moment a pitying look filled his eyes as he looked at Jon.
"You wouldn't find it in that book. Most families don't like to advertise that they were once bastards."
"Oh right,"
Maester Luwin slowly moved away from Jon.
"But if you were to find the answer, I would suggest looking in the Journals of the Stark of Winterfell."
Jon stared at the back of his head in shock.
"And I would start with the volume,"
Pausing for a second to think.
"second from the right on the fifth shelf down from where your sitting."
Maester Luwin slowly walked away.
"Thank you Maester."
Jon rushed between the shelves and pulled out the Journal that the Maester had spoken of, he skimmed through the book until he read the word bastard. He read the page aloud.
"I had journeyed to the court of King Viserys Targaryen to witness the trial of Rhaenyra Targaryen and her bastard children it was there I saw the King. As Rhaenyra went to make her testimony before the hand Otto Hightower the doors of the throne room opened, he stood there a decaying broken man leaning against his cane a golden half mask across the right side of his face. As he walked to the thrown he stumbled and refused to let the guards help him, but when his crown fell off his head his brother Daemon Targaryen helped him sit upon the throne and placed his crown back upon his head. Even though we all knew it to be true he still argued for his daughter and when the Lord Vaemond Velaryon insulted her he stood with a dagger and threatened to cut his tongue out. It was only prevented when Daemon Targaryen stood and chopped most of Vaemonds head off leaving the jaw and tongue attached to his body."
Jon stopped reading a puzzled look graced his face and he wondered why the Maester had recommended this particular journal it was about Targaryens. He skipped forwards and read another page.
"He came today, a dragon rider, the smallfolk whisper that he left dragon eggs in the Stark crypts so they could be safe, they couldn't be more wrong my father has sworn to aid Rhaenyra Targaryen's claim to the Iron Throne and in exchange the next time a daughter is born into the house of the dragon they will marry mine or my children's children."
Jon was close to throwing the book aside, how could the Maester lie to him give him hope, but he wouldn't stop he skipped forward twenty pages.
"An offer has come today an offer my bastard brother accepted. He journeys south to become one of Rhaenyra's dragonseeds, I hope that he lives and returns to the north on dragonback, when he left, he decided to take a new name for himself. He calls himself Bran Strickland."
Jon collapsed backwards into his seat; it was possible for a bastard such as himself to rise high and become a lord. Even if that house was now in exile, it was still possible.
Ned Stark stood overlooking the courtyard whilst his eldest son Robb was sparing with Ser Rodrik. matching him every couple of blows.
As his eyes scanned the courtyard, he noticed that Jon was missing. He turned to face Maester Luwin who had been informing him of the most recent news from the other six kingdoms and from around his own.
"Have you seen Jon the last few days Maester?"
"He has been studying the last few days i believe, taking his meals and sleeping in the library,he has mostly been reading the Journals of Cregan and Rickon Stark from the Dance of Dragons milord."
"And why would he be doing that?"
"He has been searching Sir,"
"Searching for what?"
"Searching on how to rise up and become a lord in his own right Sir."
Ned froze and returned his gaze to the courtyard.
"I thought that he wanted to join the nights watch with my brother," he said coldly.
"I believe he used to, but now he wants to be great to leave a legacy of his own, for his children."
Ned stands there, a million thoughts rushing through his head before he finally spoke.
"Let him have these fantasies but when he is sixteen, he will join the watch."
"Of course, milord."
Maester Luwin slowly walked away.
He walked and walked down corridor after corridor, flight of stairs after flight of stairs until he reached the Stark crypts. He walked until he reached the statue of a women, a statue that looked like it could start crying at any moment and was exactly a decade old.
He knelt down in front of the statue and carefully begun to clean the plate that held her name his chains clinkinging together has they touched the ground.
"Oh, Lyanna if you could see your son now, he acts so much like his father, but he looks so much like you. He has your eyes, your hair. He looks like a Stark and that has kept him safe all these years"
He paused.
"Ned wants to send your son to the wall, he says to give him honour and something to be proud of. He just wants to protect Robert, he chooses a man who thought you an object, a prize to be won over his own flesh and blood. I promised you all those years ago, if you ever had children and passed before you could raise them, I would make sure they were happy, healthy no matter what. I will keep that promise I will protect him, tell him who he is. You were always my favourite of the Rickards children"
Maester Luwin stood up and slowly started to walk away. He paused and started to laugh.
"Jon is so much easier to teach then you were."
"The grip of the weapon of Corlys Velaryon was carved from a bone shaft from a creature in the Shivering Sea when I asked his granddaughter about the weapon, she was quiet refusing to speak of it but when I pressed the issue, she told me the bone came from a skeleton that her grandfather had found. The skeleton in question was found upon an iceberg which did not drift. When I asked what the skeleton was of, she merely said a beast, a creature of Ice which put her mother's dragon Vhager to shame in size. An Ice Dragon. I was desperate to see such a beast for myself and when I asked my father to permit me take a ship and see them, he refused. I know now that I would never have survived the journey and that one day my descendants might. For whoever claims the Dragons of the north, will have the power to rival nay overthrow the house of Targaryen in both strength and legacy. Perhaps even create a legacy to surpass Valyria itself"
Jon shut the Journal and released his held breathe. Ice dragons creatures of the north that if claimed like the Valyrians did their fiery cousins would ensure his legacy and that of the house he would raise.
As he returned the Journal to the shelf it had once been on, he tripped and slammed into the floor. As he looked to the left and started to push himself upwards, he noticed a rolled-up scroll beneath the cabinet that the shelf stood on. He reached under it and removed the scroll unfurling it as he stood up, upon it was the image of a dragon one in immense detail labelled Winter. Jon knew the dragon he had just been reading about it in Cregan's journal. It was the Dragon Cregan's bastard brother had claimed, the first dragon that a man of the north had ridden but his name and legacy was lost to the Dance and the Blackfyre rebellions.
Jon quickly returned the items to the shelf that they once stood on. He quickly grabbed the notes he had made and rushed to his room concealing them alongside various other items he possessed that he should not have behind a loose stone in the wall. A knock on his door caused him to jump.
"Come in," he said breathlessly.
One of the many servants of Winterfell opened the door.
"Snow the Lord Stark wants to see you."
"Of course,"
"Now,"
