Greywater Watch

294 AC

For the first time in Mormont's life, he decided that he wasn't hungry.

When he'd sat down to eat at Howland Reed's table in Greywater, he'd expected the cuisine of the Neck to be just a little bit different from that of the kitchens of Winterfell.

He had been off by a significant margin.

Set down in front of him was a lump of pale white meat which he had figured was lizard-lion or the like. There were green and brown scales still attached to his cut. Besides that, there wasn't much else besides the surprisingly strong ale to wash it down with.

Mormont looked over to his squire. Jon looked about ready to vomit up his lunch right onto the table. Starag shared his distaste for the change in food.

That being said, at least the boy was warm. He was no longer blue and pale in the face as he'd been almost an hour ago. Now, Jon wore a fresh set of clothes he'd retrieved from his belongings. A black doublet, brown padded trousers, and high leather boots up to his shins.

He'd need them for the rest of the swamp.

Sitting across the table from the both of them was their host, his wife Jyana, and their two children: Jojen and of course, Meera Reed.

All four were digging into their cuts of… whatever was currently on Mormont's plate.

He didn't want to insult his host, however. Howland was a good friend of his. At the same time, he felt his stomach telling him not to eat the insidious chunk of pale meat on his plate.

Mormont was truly in a tough spot…

Reluctantly, he picked up the fork next to the porcelain plate and stuck it deep into the… lizard-lion, or whatever it had been. The meat cracked open easily and steam flowed out of the wide gap in the seared flesh. At least he'd have the ale to wash it down with.

Starag decided to get it over and done with. He quickly stuck his fork into his mouth, letting his teeth sink deep into the pale flesh. As he gulped it down quite easily, he had been astounded to realize that it tasted just like chicken.

Suddenly, the lizard-lion meat on his plate didn't seem so disgusting as it had just moments earlier. Mormont took another bite, this time more quickly than the last. The meat was tough and lean like a chicken's breast.

In a matter of minutes, Starag had devoured the whole plate in front of him, even the scales. Jon looked at him with astonishment. Mormont nodded to the boy's still full plate.

"It tastes just like chicken. Eat up, lad."

Jon shook his head viciously. Mormont bent his head down to the boy's ear and whispered. "This man is a good friend to myself and your lord father. Do you want to insult him and his family by rejecting their hospitality?" He said. "You'd both be embarrassing me and insulting your father by extension. Do your duty and eat the fucking food."

The boy nodded firmly, though his eyes were on the verge of cringing as he stabbed his fork into the lump of flesh in front of him. Mormont leaned away and began nursing his ale.

Howland had seemed to have finished his food. He was dabbing at his mouth with a white cloth. "Starag Mormont." He said simply with a rather impish grin.

The Lord of Greywater Watch was by no means imposing. He probably stood a bit taller than Jon. His figure was slight and lean. And along with his piercing green eyes, he had a full head of tanned orange hair and a matching beard.

"Howland." Mormont had said in polite reply. He occasionally kept taking his eyes back to Jon. The boy was coming around, now taking regular bites of the lizard-lion. He looked back to his host. "Been a long time since we've seen each other last. I didn't know you had a family…"

The Crannogman nodded his head. "There's not much anyone really knows about us…" he said with a quick laugh. "Though I'm not terribly surprised you don't have one just yet. A bachelor for life, hmmm?"

Pretty much all of his friends had shacked up with some lady or another. Ned had Ashara. Howland had his Lady Jyana. And Mormont had only the dark void in his chest. Occasionally filled with some woman he'd collect for a few days and then finally, send away forever.

It was not meant to be a barb, Mormont knew. A barb it had felt nonetheless. "Ah, you know me, Howland. Never could find the right girl to settle down with. I'd be too much of a handful." He said with a smile.

"I'm sure you've met several northern ladies who've caught your eye." Now it was Howland's wife, Jyana. She too was a rather short woman, just a few inches less than her husband. Her long braided hair was a dark brown, the same coloring as her children's. "Or perhaps you're more interested in the ladies of the south?"

Mormont had instantly regretted expanding on the topic of his love life. All girls were vastly interested in talking about a man's personal life. He should've known better than to talk about it openly.

Or just keep it to himself.

Starag knew he'd have a tough time getting out of this particular loop of conversation. "There… have been a few," he said tentatively. "Unfortunately, they'd deluded themselves into thinking I could be… tamed, so to speak."

There was something about beast-like men that women simply craved. Mormont knew because he was likely one such creature himself. There had been many women who got it into their heads that they could change him, make him a civilized creature, a proper lord…

Mormont would sooner toss Longclaw off the Wall than let that happen.

But now he saw his opening to change the subject. "But there is something that's been on my mind…"

It worked. Even Howland's children had looked up from their plates to look at him, rapt with attention. Jon glanced at him from the corner of his eye, finally having finished the lizard-lion.

"How did you know we'd be here?"

Silence.

For a few moments, not a single word had been spoken at the table. Howland locked eyes with Mormont for what seemed like ages. There seemed to be a sort of warning behind those green eyes.

Finally…

"My boy, Jojen." Howland answered, cutting the tension before it could sprout. He patted the eight-year-old on the shoulder. Jojen's dark green eyes simply watched Mormont with curious dispassion. Almost like he was inspecting a horse he'd just been given. "He has the gift of the greensight."

If Mormont was a man of the Seven or even one of the followers of R'hllor, he would've laughed right then as Howland divulged his secret. No, Mormont was a man of the Old Gods…

He'd heard stories of men and women who could become animals, or who could enter the minds of animals and control their actions. Mormont did not doubt them. Who was to say that Howland was wrong?

"And… how did he know we'd be coming?" Mormont asked.

"I saw you in a dream." The boy answered on his own. His eyes did not hold the same youth and vibrant energy that was behind Jon's or Arya's. No, this boy Jojen had an air about him that made him out to be older than he looked. "I saw a great brown bear walking in the snow. Behind him was a white wolf with ruby-red eyes."

Close enough as far as dreams go… He supposed Jon must've been the white wolf. "I see. Well, I'm sure there-"

"I wasn't finished." Jojen cut him off. Starag felt the ice re-enter his veins as he cooled himself. Judge the situation dispassionately… He sat back in his chair and nodded for the lad to continue.

"The Bear and the White Wolf had climbed a great many mountains together. Some in the terrible, windy rains, and others when all the snow had seemed to fall from the sky, nearly burying them."

Mormont had to hold himself back from laughing. He's not about to tell me my future, is he?

Jojen continued. "They enter many different dens with many different animals. I saw the White Wolf laying peacefully in a beautiful garden of Roses, and the Bear was facing off against Stags and Lions." He said with an iron-clad certainty that left Mormont with the distinct knowledge that this boy of eight years believed he knew what he was talking about.

"And then I saw the Bear dancing on a beach with a Dragon underneath the Great Sun and-" Jojen had been cut off by Howland, who gripped the boy's shoulder tight.

"That's enough, lad." The Lord of Greywater Watch said sternly. "We do not want to insult our guests. Understand?"

Lord Reed's son only nodded his head dutifully, though he looked like he had wanted to finish his piece.

Mormont heard everything, but he was far too tired to actually make any sense of it. He'd had a long day and he wanted some decent rest before he tried his hand at prophecies and dreams.

Jon had been completely enveloped by the premonition, however. Ned's nephew was looking back and forth uncertainly between Mormont and Jojen. No doubt his brain was working overtime just to know exactly what Jojen had meant.

"Well!" Jyana had come to the rescue in lieu of the silence. "I should think it's getting quite late. Isn't that right, my lord?" she asked as she looked to her husband.

Howland nodded. "Yes, that's right…" He glanced back at his two children. "Off to bed, you two." Then he looked to Jon. "Lord Stark, we've had a room prepared for you. It may not be Winterfell, but I'm sure you'll find it to your liking."

Jon smiled. "Thank you, my lord." he said and then looked to Mormont, as if asking for permission to go to sleep. Starag nodded. Howland's gaze had told him to stay where he was seated.

Mormont's squire stood up from the table and followed behind Jyana along with Jojen and Meera. They left the small dining hall and disappeared not a few moments later. Their childish utterings had stopped reaching Mormont's ears as he settled his eyes back on Howland.

"Howland."

"Starag."

Mormont shook his head as he kept watching Howland's deadly stern face and narrowed green eyes. "You're about to get me magnificently drunk, aren't you?" he said to the smaller man.

The thin line that was Lord Reed's lips quickly turned into the most impish grin Mormont had ever seen.

"Naturally."

Mormont had sorely missed dry land.

Once he'd recovered from the bells ringing in his head the morning after Howland had gotten him wasted, he and Jon had been 'dropped off' further down the Neck. How Greywater Watch could actually move through the swamps with such ease was a complete mystery. One that Mormont didn't care to find out.

Since then, Jon had been quiet. Even as they set camp, the boy had no words to say. He only had the look of intense concentration on his face.

Howland's boy spooked him, probably. Mormont still didn't know what to make of Jojen Reed's visions. Though he didn't really care much for them, either. He had gold to win and a lot of fucking knights to best.

Once they had entered the Riverlands, they had traveled along the Kingsroad. The weather had gotten better, but it was still quite windy despite it being summer.

They camped by a small inlet that had led into the Green Fork of the Trident. Mormont and Jon had each taken turns to watch the horses while the other bathed in the river.

It was a quiet evening as he and Jon were around their campfire. Mormont had his back to a tree and was smoking from his pipe while Jon was poking the fire with a stick.

The sky had darkened, and on the horizon, the sun was dim as it just barely cracked above the thin white line. The stars had finally come out to play in the night sky. The sight of the tiny shining dots had warmed Mormont to his core.

As he let out a puff of smoke from his mouth, he realized that Jon had been looking thoughtfully at him. "Uncle?"

It had been the first time he heard that title in days. "Yes?"

"When we were riding in the rain… and you spoke with Meera." Jon began. His grey eyes were as uncertain as any youth would be when asking a question. "What did she mean when she told you about the 'Knight of the Laughing Tree'?"

Mormont raised an eyebrow at the reminder. He supposed there was no harm in telling Jon the story, as brief as it was.

"Howland was making his way to the tourney at Harrenhal." Mormont began with a heavy sigh. "He was beset upon by three squires. You've seen how small he is, well… there wasn't much he could do when they began beating him."

Jon frowned as he turned to face Starag. "Why would they beat him? What did he do to them?"

Mormont shook his head. "Nothing." he said distastefully. "They were just looking for easy prey and they found it. Luckily for Howland, your aunt Lyanna rode in on her horse and scared the boys away with a tourney sword."

The curly-haired boy burst into laughter. "Three squires were scared of Aunt Lyanna? Seriously?"

"Seriously." Mormont nodded his head with a grin. "Your aunt Lyanna was a terror to grow up with, believe me." He nearly stopped himself as he briefly saw the boy's smile turn into the same dying grin of Lyanna Stark. "Arya… takes after your aunt quite a bit actually. It's surprising how similar they are."

Starag realized he was getting off track. He continued. "I met Howland that same afternoon after Lyanna had brought him back to her tent and cleaned his wounds," Mormont said as he stared off into the fire. "We went to the feast. I offered to bash the squire's heads in myself, but Howland talked me out of it."

He chuckled to himself as another set of memories sprung to mind. "Your father met your mother that night, too." He noticed Jon's eyes widening. "Your father was terrified to death about even speaking a word to Ashara Dayne. Brandon and I managed to convince him to walk up to her, though."

"And did he?"

Mormont grinned wickedly. "He did. I don't know what he said, but immediately after I saw him leading Ashara out onto the dance floor by the hand." He said with a hearty laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen your mother's face so red in one moment. She must've been very taken with Ned already."

Jon crossed his legs and sat forward. "Taken? What does that mean?"

"It means she liked him. A lot."

"Oh, of course." Jon nodded hastily, a feint red dusting his cheeks. "And what about the Knight?"

"Right. A few days later, a mysterious knight appeared on the second day of the lists, during the late afternoon, I believe."

Mormont shook his head at the memory of Lyanna's terribly mismatched armor pieces. "The knight was a short figure who wore armor that clearly did not fit him in the slightest. Still, he entered the lists and unhorsed the knights of the same three squires who had beaten Howland."

"When the knights tried to ransom their armor and horses from the Mystery Knight, they were told in a booming voice: "You may have your armor and mares back! Provided you teach your squires a lesson about chivalry and honor! They should not become knights if they needlessly beat those who cannot fight back!" And then the Mystery Knight turned around and rode into the forest." Mormont had to hold back a laugh. Lyanna was a clever girl, too clever for her own good.

Jon sat rapt with attention. He was eating up the story. "And then what?"

Mormont continued. "The knights had belittled their squires, of course. King Aerys had decided that the Mystery Knight was his enemy and ordered the Kingsguard and Prince Rhaegar to hunt him down."

He paused as he let out another puff of smoke. "The Mystery Knight had disappeared, however. Rhaegar returned only with his shield. Emblazoned on it was a pale white weirwood tree with a laughing red face."

"Did you ever find out who it was?" Jon asked eagerly. No doubt the boy's curiosity had been sparked. It had been set aflame.

Mormont smiled at the boy's wild gaze. Just like his mother. Just like Lyanna.

"It was your aunt Lyanna," Starag answered over the crackling of the fire. "She was always magnificent on a horse. Had a unique talent for riding," he said as he shifted himself on the grass. "She got away, obviously. From that day forward, the Mystery Knight was dubbed: 'The Knight of the Laughing Tree'"

Jon had sat back on his haunches and stared back into the fire. Mormont couldn't make out the expression on his face in the glow of the fire.

He glanced back out onto the crystal lake nearby. The white moon had glittered and reflected in the black waters.

Mormont's mind went back to the Reed boy's premonitions. If he was going to think about it, might as well be then. Anything to take his mind off the blood-soaked sheets and weeping smile of Lyanna Stark.

Garden of Roses? Sounds like the Tyrells to me, at least. But what was that he meant about the Bear and the Dragon-

"Uncle?"

Mormont looked back to Jon, broken out of his musings. "Yes, Jon?" he said, letting out more smoke from his nostrils.

"Can you tell me more about Aunt Lyanna?"

Starag felt his pulse quicken just a little bit as he slowly lowered the pipe from his mouth. He knew if he kept talking of the Stark girl, he'd let the secret slip. Mormont couldn't-shouldn't be the one to tell Jon who his mother and father were. That was not his place.

Mormont forced the ice back into his veins as he fixed a smile on his face. "Maybe another night, lad." He felt his lips betray his hesitation with a slight waver. "We've got a big day tomorrow. Time to get some rest."

Jon nodded morosely, but he turned around and lay down on the cot. His tight black curls bunched up around his head. His gray eyes watched the fire closely until after a few moments, they closed.

Starag watched the boy thoughtfully. He struggled to imagine that this was the same boy he'd met for the first time back in Dorne.

He was the first babe that Mormont had held in his arms. Jon was so small then, almost like a large ball in Mormont's massive paws.

Starag distinctly remembered when he had been riding hard out of Dorne with Ned, Howland, and Arthur. The rest of the northern lords with them had gone back to King's Landing. They were men who could be trusted, of course. They hadn't let him or Ned down to date.

The other two Kingsguard; Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower had fled. Hightower went back to Highgarden to hide and plot. Mormont didn't know where Whent had gone, but he suspected that Whent was across the Narrow Sea, doing gods know what in Essos.

Eddard had gotten tired as they had ridden for a whole day. Ned had refused to allow anyone else to hold his nephew. But by the time they had made it to the Reach, Ned was ready to drop from his horse.

So, Arthur had handed little Jon off to Mormont.

For six hours of hard riding to the little village where they found a wet nurse for the lad, Mormont held the child in his arms tight to his chest. The lad had been unnaturally quiet for a newborn babe. Mormont had never been as delicate holding a woman as he had been when he held Jaehaerys Targaryen in his arms.

Starag remembered the jolting scream that Jon's mother had made when she gave birth to him. He'd never seen so much blood come from a little woman like Lyanna.

"Promise me, Ned…" Her voice was desperate and pleading. Never had Lyanna Stark sounded so weak and frail before when Mormont heard those words. "Promise me…"

She hadn't been speaking to Starag directly from that lonely bed in the corner, drenched in her own blood and sweat. Mormont made the same promise, though. She was as much Starag's sister as she was Ned's.

Mormont had distinctly remembered the moment when he looked down into those dark gray orbs as they rode through the night.

And for only the briefest moment, those gray eyes had turned amethyst in the pale moonlight.