A/N: I know that a lot of you were quite disappointed when Ghost died and I seriously debated for a long time if I was going to kill him or not. Because I also think that Jon without Ghost is not completely Jon at all. But it's quite clear what I decided for this plot bunny and I have a reason for it. I just can't say it yet. It would spoil a lot of things. But anyway, I'm a little busy nowadays so I might update slower now. Hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think.
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.
VIII
Jon was never thrown back in his cell.
He stayed in the rooms he woke up in and every morning, Pod would help him dress. After that, he broke fast with the king. It was a somber affair and they never ate in the king's chambers again. The king would sometimes talk about nonsensical things and Jon only responded when prompted. They would part stiffly and Jon would ask Pod if he can show him back to his rooms. A maester named Yayne came to him every afternoon to check his healing injuries and Tyrion would sometimes visit him and invite him to dine with him. Jon liked Tyrion. He was an excellent conversationalist and Ser Bronn would always have a crude joke or two to exasperate the imp. Pod would be there too, running between serving them and joining them.
But most importantly, Jon liked Tyrion because he was informative.
"When the late Hand died too peacefully in his sleep, the king became terribly suspicious. He wrote to your father—uncle—about it but Lord Stark responded with conditions that if he let you go, he would become Hand in return. Of course, the king refused. Quite colorfully, I heard." Tyrion said as he sipped his wine. Their supper had long since been eaten and only Bronn was left to pick at the crumbs. "So, it was merely a coincidence that my father bid me to visit my lovely sister and beloved brother. He sent me to be the Hand in his stead because, unlike the king, my father is a cautious man. He's gathered his bannermen and prepared for worst with the North uneasy as it is. So, I ruled beside the king and my sister, until a little whisper caught the king's ear. Jon Arryn discovered a secret before he died and his wife and son fled the capital after his death. So, the king investigated and discovered the horrible truth. My sister maintained a sordid affair with my own brother. Incest was not the crime, mind you. Targaryens have practiced this for centuries."
At this, Tyrion gave him a pointed look which he ignored and only quietly sipped his wine. Tyrion continued as if nothing was amiss. "So, Cersei and Jamie are accused of adultery, murder, and treason, the children stripped of their names and titles. Mercifully, they fled the city before Robert could catch them. The gods know what Robert may have done to them if he did."
Jon inwardly cringed. He is intimately aware of what the king can do to traitors. He still had the mending bones to prove it. It has nearly been a fortnight since his release and although Tyrion is very careful with what he tells Jon, they both knew that they could trust each other in waddling these uncertain waters by both being members of the Houses that betrayed the Crown.
"How did Lord Arryn die? Did they ever find out?" Jon asked after careful consideration of these events.
"He was poisoned, Maester Yayne proclaimed. He's our new grandmaester now. Pycelle was a damnable fool and one of my sister's spy. He lost his head after the truth came to light."
"Did your sister not realize that killing the Hand may have raised unwanted attention? Surely, the queen, if she's kept it for as long as she had, would've known about a thing or two about keeping a secret, my lord."
Tyrion grinned at him, amused. "Yes, she did. But then again, so did your uncle."
That shut Jon up and he took a huge chug of his wine.
"Secrets have a way of resurfacing. The bigger they are, the harder it is to drown them away." Tyrion told him in a scholarly manner. Jon thought that the imp enjoyed to lecture others like they were simpletons. Though, if one was as smart and as cunning as Tyrion Lannister, it is not overly insulting to be schooled by a man who could play the game of thrones. Jon had taken it upon himself to learn as best he could. True he vowed he will not play their games but it didn't mean he wouldn't learn. "No, my sister would've killed Robert then Jon Arryn and place Joffrey on the throne if she had her way. It wasn't her."
"If you know who, my lord, then shouldn't you tell the king?"
"I have." Tyrion shrugged. "He still wants her head on spike though."
Jon nodded slowly. "If it wasn't the queen, then who killed Lord Arryn?"
"Petyr Baelish." Tyrion dragged out the name like it was the most distasteful thing to roll off his tongue.
"The Master of Coin?" Jon was surprised.
Tyrion nodded. "Varys heard many whispers about Lady Arryn and Littlefinger. They conspired together and Littlefinger convinced her to kill her husband. But why they did it, that's a question only they can answer."
Jon swallowed thickly. Lady Arryn was Lady Catelyn's sister. Does she know about the charges laid upon her sister? Tyrion seems to have seen the question in his eyes.
"All of the Seven Kingdoms know what they've done. Basically, everything regarding the brewing war between the North and the Crown are swept underneath the scandalous affair of my sister's infidelity and the Lady of the Vale's nefarious plots with her greedy lover."
Jon's eyes snapped up to look at him. "War?"
"You didn't think your uncle just would leave you here to suffer the king's wrath, did you?" Tyrion said with his lips quirking into a small smirk at Jon's incredulous face. "Rumors have it that he's forging allies with Highgarden and Dorne. I believe that your sister is now promised to Willas Tyrell of Highgarden and your younger sister is now promised to Tristane Martell of Dorne. The North has been quite active lately with the heir of Winterfell personally visiting each of his future bannermen, renewing alliances and forging stronger bonds. If I heard correctly, your younger brother Bran is now also promised to Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island. Although seemingly innocent enough, one would wonder why all these betrothals have suddenly been forged so quickly and to two houses who are known Targaryen supporters no less." Tyrion gave Jon another look and Jon wished he would just stop doing that every time his birth father's family name was mentioned. It wasn't his to claim nor is it the name he wants to claim in the first place. "Stannis Baratheon has already implored his kingly brother to raise his own bannermen and confront the Starks for their treason."
Jon's eyes widened at this. This was the reason he stayed in this gods forsaken hell in the first place and all of it had been for naught. He still failed to protect his family. But Tyrion smiled reassuringly. "Rest assured that the king told his brother to stay his sword against the North, although, he did not say the same about the West. By now, Jamie and Cersei would have reached the Rock. They are preparing for war. My father has gathered his bannermen after all. Besides, the North will not openly declare war while you're here. That's the reason why the king kept you in the first place."
Jon wanted to scoff at that. It was the first time he's ever heard anyone say it out loud since his release. Despite these luxurious accommodations, he was still a hostage and what he went through has not been forgotten, just as his family remembers him.
The North remembers. He hears his father's voice echo in his mind and for a moment, he feels the cold winds of the North on his skin and the feather-light touches of the summer snows.
And the North will never forget, he thought with conviction. It renewed his hope, rejuvenating his purpose. This is far from over. Across him, Tyrion mused, chuckling to himself.
"Only a year ago, I was lording over Casterly Rock's sewer pipes, made sure all the piss and shit flowed smoothly into the sea. Now, I'm the king's Hand because my siblings left me behind and no one else wanted the job except Stannis whom the king doesn't like, about to witness one of the greatest wars that'll ever come in our lifetime." Tyrion raised his cup, toasting the misfortunes. "It's a wonderful time to be alive."
Jon didn't share the sentiment but nonetheless accepted that the peace of the land had all been shattered following his capture. Lords became restless, allies are forged and dissolved and enemies sprouted all around them, seemingly harmless until you've bared your back. Jon cannot help but think that he started all of this. It began when he'd been told the truth of his parentage and snowballed to the discord that's creeping into the Seven Kingdoms. War will ravage them all and the blame is placed squarely on his shoulders.
He never wanted this. All he'd ever wanted to be was a Stark.
Now, he's not even a Snow. What would he give to just stay a Snow?
"This is all my fault." Jon blurted out.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, lad." Bronn said, lounging on his seat, giving him a bored expression as if the older man was just humoring him. "All these fucked up lords' scheming ain't your doing. They've had it coming."
"But it is my fault." Jon insisted. "My father is starting this war because of me."
"True, but if you were there as him and he was here as you, wouldn't you do the same?" Bronn reasoned.
He would in less than a heartbeat. Jon shook his head. It wasn't the same. "I'm just a bastard."
"I hope you don't truly believe that, Jon." Tyrion advised him. "It would be terribly naïve of you to do so."
Jon sighed and stood, his body screaming in protest. "Excuse me, my lord, but it's late."
"Of course, of course. You are still healing after all." Tyrion said in forced cheer, nodding encouragingly. "I bid you a good night."
"And I you, Lord Tyrion." Jon strode to the door with Pod at his heels.
"Oh, and one more thing, Jon." Jon turned to see Tyrion smiling sympathetically at him. It warmed Jon's heart to see it even if he told himself not to rely too much on his friend. Loneliness will not be the cause of his failure. "Despite the situation, you aren't a prisoner in the Black Cells anymore. The king has given you permission to explore the Red Keep with an escort, of course, and I do miss Podrick attending to my whims. Ser Barristan Selmy will accompany you wherever you wish to go henceforth tomorrow."
He nodded his thanks and turned to leave.
Jon didn't say that the only place he wished to go was home.
Between them, it didn't need to be said.