Chapter 3
"You really have to stop saying it Rodrik, your just going to get yourself into more
trouble then you'll be able to handle."
"Jon Snow I don't know how you can do it!" The youth looked at the sullen boy. "I
don't know how you can let them hide the truth."
Jon took a deep breath, "The truth is I'm a bastard. My father will not publicly
recognize me for the offence it would create to Lady Catelyn and he never will speak of my
mother."
It was hard for Jon to not get mad. He was getting tired of having this argument and
the salt it rubbed in wounds that wouldn't heal.
Rodrik Snow, who had just turned the age of being a man was getting tired of
having this argument. Why wouldn't his cousin listen to him?
"But I know who my mother was and she told me who my father was."
"But you have no proof Rodrik, just your mother's word that you are a Stark.
Without proof all you are doing is bringing dishonour to the family you claim to be a part
of."
The two were walking along the shore of a large shallow river that ran through the
Wolfswood. Rodrik liked to walk here when he just wanted to think, or strengthen his
resolve. While Jon may have let himself be tricked out of his name, Rodrik would not do
the same.
Rodrik Snow was a Stark born and true, the fact that his father was dead should
have made no difference. The man was still his father, the man was still buried in the crypts
of Winterfell, the man still carried the last name of Stark. Rodrik's last name should be
Stark, what was the big deal?
"I dishonour them? THEY DISHONOUR ME! They deny who I am for reasons I
don't understand! Your father lies when he says I'm not a Stark, he out right lies!"
Jon turned into Rodrik's path. "My father never lies! How dare you say that?"
"Jon, this isn't your fight. My honour is not yours to clear."
Both young men whirled to face the woods, where the unexpected voice had come
from. In the shadows cast by the leaves stood a man, tall with square shoulders. His face
was covered by a short trimmed dark beard; it was easy to see that the blood of the first
men ran through his veins. You could see it in the squareness of his jaw, the cold look he
naturally had in his eye and the way he carried himself even out here trudging through fresh
summer snow looking for a boy that had just become a man.
Jon stepped away from Rodrik, he saw Ice the Stark family's ancient sword at his
father's side. Lord Eddard only carried that with him when he was expecting to use it.
"Father please he doesn't mean you any…"
Eddard cut Jon off by raising his hand. "Rodrik and what happens to him now are
not your concern Jon. Head back to the castle. I shall catch up shortly."
Jon hesitated for a moment, went to speak then fell silent. He looked at his friend,
forlorn, he wasn't even sure he should…could say goodbye. Rodrik looked at Jon, and in
his eyes there was a cold fire, a fire Jon had seen elsewhere many a time when his father
faced a believed injustice. It was that look at that moment that had Jon believe that perhaps
there was some truth to Rodrik's claim. Of course now though it was too late.
After Eddard was sure Jon had left, he looked at Rodrik. "I've come to ask you to
leave Rodrik."
"Why? Is swallowing the truth getting too filling uncle?"
Eddard sighed, "Look Rodrik. If you could give me one shred of evidence of what
you say is true then I would welcome you into my home and family with open arms. But
you can't and I can't have you making these sorts of claims unfounded."
Eddard reached into a pocket and pulled out a small bag, it jangled, the sound of
coins bouncing together; lots of coins. "Take this; it should keep you going for a while."
Eddard tossed the bag at Rodrik. It hit Rodrik square in the chest and fell into the
snow at his feet.
"I will not take that money If you will not accept who I am then I will not take your
charity. My claim is not unfounded but I guess that's past the point of concern isn't it? I
think perhaps I should have you cut me down, at least that way my honour will remain
intact. If I run, hide and lie about who I am then I will have no honour at all, and that will
disappoint my father greatly."
"Do you think he will think better of you or me if you force me to cut you down?"
Rodrik closed his eyes and looked down. When he looked back up it was plain to
see that he fighting back the tears. "I can't stay and I can't go if I wish to keep my honour,
and I am not allowed to die because I'll lose my honour and by extension my father's…I
guess there is only one thing left for me to do."
"What is that?"
"Lord Eddard I'm going back to the castle, to retrieve a few things. Thank you for
letting me stay with you and I…I…apologize for causing trouble for you."
Eddard walked over, "What do you plan to do?"
"And…yeah, you can tell Jon that he can have anything he wants I leave behind. Oh
and can you tell him good bye?"
Eddard could do nothing but nod, and watch the young man walk back towards
Winterfell Castle.
This man knew he would get no honour from his birth.
This man hoped he would get honour from his death.