A/N: Okay, this is where it gets a little strange and I just had to have a Tyrion scene. Who doesn't want a Tyrion scene? Haha. Let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy this.
Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is not mine.
Summary: When Ned finally told Catelyn about Jon Snow's mother, he had not expected for things to turn out the way they did in the end. It was so unfortunate that Robert had been smarter than Ned ever thought he was.
VI
When he woke up, he was clean.
Which was an odd thing considering that the last thing he remembered was that he'd been covered in his own piss and shit. His body also felt oddly well. There had been parts of him that had not healed well from the beatings, he remembered. Broken bones that had not been set right or cuts that started to grow puss from infection. He had been running a fever, he remembered, but for the first time in a long time, he felt fine. He tentatively touched his cheek and sure enough, the beard he had grown was gone. His face was smooth and only hurt a little from what seems to be healing bruises. His hair was also cut, cropped neatly on his head.
He was lying on a soft bed in a beautiful room that overlooked most of King's Landing. The air was fresh and smelled of the salty sea. He slowly sat himself up. He didn't understand. None of this made sense. Why is he here? Is this a dream? Is he finally dead? Is this a trick?
There was a knock on the door. "May we come in?" A muffled voice asked.
Jon wanted to yell at them to go away but he couldn't so he said nothing and hope that whoever they were, they'd eventually leave. But the door opened tentatively and a dwarf peered in. When he saw Jon awake, he smiled politely. He came in with a dangerous looking man and a young man in tow. Jon tensed at seeing these unfamiliar faces.
"Jon Snow," the dwarf began as he slowly, tentatively approached and stopped a few feet away. Jon was grateful he they didn't come any closer. "My name is Tyrion Lannister. This is my squire, Podrick Payne, and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater."
The others nodded at him when their names were introduced but Jon didn't recognize any of them except for the dwarf. He was a Tywin Lannister's son, after all. Everyone knew of the lion and his pride. They were awkwardly plunged into silence. The dwarf, Tyrion, seemed to be waiting for something and Jon realized it was his response. His mouth felt like it was filled with sand but he licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. He spoke for the first time in days.
"W-well met, my lords." He rasped.
Tyrion nodded, a little smile adorning his face. "Excellent. I hope you find your accommodations fairly well, as well. It has the most stunning—"
"How long was I—I-I mean… Forgive me, my lord." Jon blurted out, sounding choked and looked away, expecting he'd be punished for that.
"Imprisoned, you mean?" Ser Bronn supplied and Tyrion shot him a look. "What? It's true. Just look at what the king fucking did to him. Did you reckon he was having a grand time down there in his cell?"
Tyrion sighed and when his eyes returned to Jon, they looked sympathetic. "It's been half a year if I'm correct." He answered almost quietly. Jon hid his stunned expression as best he could and nodded once. Tyrion shared a look with Bronn but Jon didn't care. Let them have their looks.
"And how are you feeling?" Tyrion gently asked which surprised Jon. Evidently, the shock was plain to see on his face for Tyrion gave him a reassuring smile. "You've been asleep for quite a long while. Almost four days, if I remember the maester's words correctly. He did say that your… injuries were quite extensive and you've been running a very high fever when they took you out of that cell. Not to mention the bones he needed to reset… In any case, I hope that you are feeling well."
He'd been asleep for four days, recuperating. It didn't make sense. They drugged him and healed him and he couldn't understand why. What was happening? What sort of trickery were they up to now? What cruelty lay in wait for him after this? Did they tire of only beating him? Were they going to raise his hopes only to crush it again like a plaything?
For the first time in a long while, Jon felt something other than despair: anger.
He will not play their games. He will not give them that satisfaction.
Refusing to say another word, he nodded and looked away in a clear dismissal.
Tyrion's smile was almost sad. "I'll leave Podrick here to help you dress." He paused before continuing. "The king has requested that you join him for breakfast."
Jon's head snapped up and a feeling of dread welled up his chest but he pushed it down.
He can torture me all he wants with his sick games and tricks. He will not break me. I will be brave,Jon thought.
He nodded in understanding and Tyrion clasped his hands, an encouraging smile on his face as if he had just read Jon's mind.
"I'll leave you to it then, Pod. As Hand, I have much to do." Tyrion said then he turned to Jon again. "Pod will escort you to his His Grace as soon as you finish."
With a final nod, Tyrion left with Bronn behind him.
Pod began to rummage around the room and brought him fine clothes dyed in Stark colors. "Lord Tyrion left these for you, my lord."
Jon took a deep breath and exhaled. He forced himself to rise despite the pain and braced himself. He was still stuck in this hell. It was just that they plan to torment him in other ways now. Let it come then, he will fight them all until the very end. He was his mother's son. He was Ned Stark's son.
He will survive. He will live.
He is a Stark of Winterfell and their words are Winter is Coming.
And one day, he knew, Winter will remember him and it will come for them all.
"I pity the poor boy." Bronn casually remarked as they entered the Hand's solar. Tyrion walked directly to his wine and poured two cups. He gave one to Bronn as he passed.
"I agree but don't count him out just yet. Jon Snow is a dragon and a wolf. He doesn't seem the type to surrender." Tyrion warned, sounding impressed.
"Aye, just like his family. The North is still gathering their allies then?"
Tyrion nodded and sipped his wine. "Whispers of Lord Stark treating with Highgarden and Dorne. I'll tell you, stubborn as they are, Northerners lack subtlety."
"Hard to be subtle when everyone's eyes are fucking glued on them. This is the biggest scandal the people's had in fucking years, not since that boy's mother ran away with the Dragon Prince."
"She was kidnapped." Tyrion halfheartedly corrected.
Bronn scoffed. "Do you really fucking believe that even now? When we've seen the boy and the way Stark is scrambling to get the boy back?"
"No, I don't." Tyrion said. There will be songs sung in Jon Snow's honor for thousands of years to come, he was sure. A war that tore the entire country apart begun because of Lady Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and now, another begins because of their son. Blood will flow in rivers of red and fire will burn across the land. Winter will starve out the rest and wolves will come to prey at the corpses. Still, Tyrion cannot deny that there is greatness lying in wait for that boy. A greatness that will come with pain and suffering.
A bastard prince who holds the promise of a great destiny paid with a heavy price. Tyrion mused. But he expected nothing less. Ice and fire ran through that boy's veins, his blood came from the line of kings. Jon Snow may yet save or doom them all.
"One thing's for certain," Tyrion said, taking another sip from his cup. "This won't end well."