Unforsaken
Catelyn Stark
The rain was the first to greet her instead of the morning sun, as she awoken and viewed her homeland from her chambers. Dark skies and crows were flapping and circling her home. Their screeching noises, crying out the coming day, It all felt like it was a return back to the horrid night before when Robb returned. Frighten, weary, and morbid.
Catelyn has always known Winterfell to be cold, harsh, and even very quiet for her liking. Now, however, this lingering feeling of fear had all but swept them away. The worry for her children lives, and even worse still, her children concerns for their half-brother.
Once she tried counseling Robb of the incident and reassuring him, but he refuted when Jon was brought up. While it wasn't her intention at the time, for the first time, her son was angry at her for dismissing him. Catelyn has always done what she deemed herself what she thought best. It never genuinely occur to her until now; she sees now how much her lord's bastard has reached into her children hearts and can't separate them now. No matter how much of her profound contempt she can shed towards him.
Catelyn couldn't take any more of the thoughts that have lingered in her head. She quickly left behind to make her way to the sept to make peace with her mind in prayer. It was empty with nothing, but candle lights ignited to each of the seven.
She kneeled before the Mother and Warrior for the protection of her children. Catelyn would repeat the same sermons that would always remember in her childhood in the days she dreamed of dutifulness and love. Mother and Warrior grant strength to the virtuous and innocence…
Her continue recitation of the words were interrupted when she heard a crack from the door behind her. The hollow winds were blowing out. The lights flickered and crept coldness has shivered her skin.
She didn't understand what she was doing, but walking towards the door. Catelyn followed the winds that lead outside. The cries of the wind and wrathful noises of the massive raindrops greeted her when she set her foot down outside.
The Lady of the Wolf reminisces back in her childhood at Riverunn. Compared to here, it was much warmer and lush with Godswood tall and leaves moisture from softer drops of rain. Her sister Lysa and old friend Petyr whom she grew up with most of her childhood. How they play together out in the wood, and the two sisters took the turn playing kisses with Petyr.
How foolish I was, she thought to herself with a smile.
Thunder startled her, turning her head to the dark-grey sky. The shape of clouds was ominous to stare. They were like in the form of dragons circling each other with the center a black-like-hole was pouring down the rain.
She turns her eyes away to see a man on the ground laying down.
It was Ned's bastard…
What is he doing here? What was he doing in the night? Once, her weariness towards Jon would immediately turn into silent anger, and then a quick but slice dismissal of him, just so that he remembers his place here. Now though, she could only look at him with pity for the first time.
When the boy was brought before her and Ned as though he was lifeless, Catelyn had thought that she would feel relief that he would no longer be a threat to her family and her children's rights to inheritance. However, she didn't feel that way, Neither did she felt dismissal of the issue, or even feeling nothing at all.
Instead, she could only feel pain for her children's pain over Jon. The tears on all of them genuinely terrified her of what could happen worse if Jon had indeed died. Would she of any capability to comfort them of that? What could she have done when the only she has done in the situation, was follow her lord husband's request to bring Bran and Robb back to their beds?
It was at that night, and when Robb argued back at her, Catelyn realized only bringing back Jon could heal this pain.
Moreover, she hated that. Feared it even of what Jon may be capable of doing.
Worse of all, she was now beginning to feel pity for the bastard.
She reached down to Jon, delicately moving the hair away from his face. His eyes were squeezing from dreaming. 'No more like trapped in a nightmare.' He was breathing heavily. Bruises all over his body, most significantly, marks on his neck.
She began to panic. Someone was able to reach into her home and could've killed them! Where they here still and hiding? Catelyn would have to move now to alarm the household guards of the situation they were in now.
"… Mother…"
Catelyn's heart beat faster when she heard him whispered. The gut feeling on the thoughts of Jon's mother, the jealousy of the woman whom Ned had loved so dearly to take their son into their own house. A woman the even her lord husband would not speak of, whoever she was.
"Never speak to me of that again." The words echoed still carried the cold and wrathful anger when Ned heard of the rumors of Ashara Dayne being Jon's mother. She did not know if that was true. For when looking at the bastard, he did not show any of the features of a Dayne. The daynish facial features like that of a valyrian.
No, somehow, she knew his mother was not a Dayne.
Catelyn could only see Stark as he laid on the ground still, not moving an inch or a flicker from his hands. It was something of a curse and twist of Irony that the boy would look more the son of a Stark than the rest of her children, except for her daughter Arya. Both were possessing the same hair and eyes of their father.
Now when she looked at him closer than she had ever done, she saw the distinct feature that separating his father. He had pale skin that was not like the color of the Starks. While Ned's skin was of a light color that could gloom in his presence, Jon's looked more like the frigid winters themselves.
It felt like she was now staring at the heart of winter itself.
It may be fitting for one with black blood in his veins. A curse of darkness placed upon his birth.
Despite all that, even the harshness she could ever do to him. Catelyn found for this moment and oddly; it felt peaceful to look at him.
"My Lady?"
A voice came from behind. It was Harwin.
"Help me carry him up he's in need of condition." She spoke directly. Commanding and immediately, the stable's son reached over Jon and carried back to the Hall.
With all her strength she hurries the bastard back to the room, just so that her children did not have to feel any more fear of losing him again, she helps carry Jon back. If this was a requirement in her duty, then she was obligated to help him, if only for this moment, for her children's happiness.
Catelyn and Harwin reach to his room and quickly placed him down on his bed. Quickly removing his we boots and shirt off of him. The bandages around his chest too were wet, but no sign of blood stains.
"Harwin," she turns her attention towards him "Bring in Maester Luwin to treat any injuries he has on him and brings along any servants in finding new garments for him and bandages."
She moves closer to him. "I would ask too that the children do not find out much of this as possible. They had enough to worry about Jon, please, for their sake."
He nodded. "I will alert the guards discreetly about an intruder my Lady. Lord Stark will need to be informed about this."
She swallowed about her concerns for Ned and what he'll make of this. "Very well, it is for the best though we don't cause a huge panic." Everyone is afraid, and I can see it in your eyes too Harwin.
Catelyn was meet with silence after Harwin left and she was alone with Jon. She could go now but decided to stay a little longer, at least until Luwin arrives.
To stay and look at Jon, if only on a whim.
She took a seat beside him as she would when her children would fall ill and wanted her comfort. Robb when he was younger, Bran when cried and needed her; Arya, when she hides under the covers, and Sansa wanted to hear tales of knights before sleeping. Rickon, the youngest of all, would cry before hearing her say goodnight.
Jon was just like them now. Sleeping blissfully, with the standard features they all shared with their father. Their long faces are smoothly still when their eyes have closed.
Then the bastard's eyes opened slowly. There was no shock nor fear nor any surprise at all. Jon's dark grey eyes peered into her, and a shivering chill made its way into her arms and back.
The eyes were different from before. The few moments that Cat would take to stare at him, to indeed look upon him in the same eyes as his fathers. Grey, cold steel-like, and vigilant as a wolf.
Now they were darker than before. Jon eyes had no emotion to them, cold and void, but masked what couldn't pass the veil of his pupils. They started to dilate in a twisted manner she has never seen before. It almost seems like they were changing colors before her. She could not stare any longer, lest she chose to be swallowed by the erupting eyes that threaten to destroy her.
Without any words said, she took her to leave and left him. He didn't stop her from what she's doing. Not a flick on his face moved when her steps made crack noises.
As she was closing the door, she finally hears his voice. Raspy and dark.
"… Souls…"
Eddard Stark
A defeat was indeed a bitter taste, like tasting sharp iron or the ashes from a flame.
It was another to return in defeat without any hope or sense of peace.
The long hunt for the attackers at Crofters' village was the second time he had met defeat in his duty to protect his home and people. It was one thing to know your enemy when they have won the battle and learn from the mistakes, with a better understanding between your capabilities and that of the enemy. It was one of the first things he learned in his first battle in the Riverlands, fighting alongside Robert Baratheon.
However, this was where an enemy not only to have gotten away but also able to hide themselves and their intentions. When they made their way to the burned down village, all the stocks and goods of any worth were all still stash or burned along inside the houses. However, bodies? All of them gone.
Then there was his sons, Robb and Jon, both of whom were the only survivors alongside Theon, but Jon was injured and dying. He always thought best for him, for what was best for him, but when he saw what could have been the last moments with him, the return of guilt gripped him.
The memories of when he was an infant, crying for his mother-
"You've been quiet my lord," Robett stated riding beside him, tall and proud. "We have found nothing, and any trail in the Wolfswood has been swept away after the attack."
"It doesn't matter. I want men patrolling out for any signs of foreigners and inspect any travelers coming in and out of the North, that includes even southerners."
Robert wouldn't press against the situation, but it was evident in eyes that he was doubtful about finding anything further then what the have discovered. Even in the Wolfswood, the only thing left behind was the ominous presence of the winds and trees that darkened the pathway roads. The bodies of Wallis and Alyn have also disappeared. They wouldn't be able to recover them.
Curse these men to desecrate the dead.
The sight of Winterfell was beholden to eyes when he reached the hills. Eddard longed for the comfort and embrace of his family again. Once in the rebellion, to see Cat again despite their unfortunate circumstances; he found love again from her in these last 14 years.
Now he also sought to see his children again. To hear Cat staggering at Bran for claiming, Sansa knitting alongside her friends, to see Arya act defiant again; willful and wild, to join in her brothers' training. Robb and Jon-
Jon…
Much guilt and pain were begging to reach into his gut. Eddard has always known that he would do what's best for Jon. A boy, quiet and distance from the rest of his family only because he shared their blood but not the name. However, he would always remind him that he is a part of the family and still will be a Stark, that he is his blood.
Blood of my blood.
Was this enough? Did I hold my promise to your mother, Jon? Ned thoughts ponder on this.
When he reached Winterfell, he saw the number of guards that were standing in place. More than what he would have in place. Something has happened. His wife and children were awaiting him. "Father!" Arya and Bran screamed, running over with arms full for an incoming embrace.
Ned hugged both of them tightly. His daughter Sansa was approaching as well. He then greeted her with a kiss on her forehead. "Sansa." His daughter smiled. "Father," she replied sweetly "welcome back home."
His wife Catelyn reached over, and he felt the warmth of her lips and have realized that he dearly missed them the past week. "My lord husband." A gentle smile stretch Cat's face.
"My dear lady." he affectionally said teasingly, grabbing to wrapping his hands together with hers.
They have taken a moment to silence together before Ned turn to his firstborn and ward's condition. "Robb, Theon," They both nodded. "Are you well?"
"We are doing well father." his son smiled, then his brows frowned. "Though I have wished you bring us along with you. We could've helped you in this."
"There was too much at stake Robb," Ned spoke softly. "I needed you here while I was away, I couldn't place you in any more danger as I did before." He padded him on the shoulder. "You are my heir Robb," Eddard spoke firmly. Live for your family."
He took notice of everyone was looking at him with weariness and concern. He couldn't find Jon among them. "Jon…" Promise me. "… Where is my son?"
Catelyn spoke hesitantly. "Ned… Jon was attacked again last night." His eyes widen, "Someone was able to intrude into our home, but we could not find where this person may have gone."
No. It was worse than Eddard thought. Someone was after his son.
He has protected him for all his life, even if it would keep him ignorant of the truth. Could someone know about his secrets, or was it a Targaryen supporter attacking his family? No this is something else entirely. No one else would know about Jon, not one other.
Promise me…
"Where is he now."
It was Arya that spoke first. "He isn't talking to us father." He can see her beginning to tremble. "Ever since mother found him, Jon began to ignore us. He doesn't come to the yards, he isn't speaking with anyone else." she brought her head down. "Jon promised… promised to stay with us! I've made him promise me!"
The words began to ring in Ned's ears that he ran inside to find Jon. He could not fail her to keep him safe. He has lost one family; he cannot bear to lose another to death.
"Lord Stark" Maester Luwin stood in his way.
"Luwin," Eddard commanded. "where is Jon?"
His eyes flinch at the response of his son's name. "He's in the library." He looks from behind. "He's in that room since last and the entire day. I fear for his deteriorating health."
"Health?" Ned spoke loudly than intended.
Maester Luwin face was grave. "I've done all I could for him, but I'm afraid I don't know what ails him… I fear the worse of what the assassin has done to him."
"He was the only one that they have attacked and no one else?"
Ned only received a nod. Without anything left to say, he moved to make his way to the library.
The sound of his entrance at the door was with complete silence. Everything was dark with the only thankful light in the library was the ray of light from the window. It could only mean that Jon snuffs out the candles.
It has been years since Ned has come back here, the last time was to retrieve old stories for his children when Old Nan was feeling ill of sharing tales herself. Before that… was the previous time, he and Lyanna came in here to read old books. She would want to learn about the Winter King's tales, or some old tactics and personal writings of their experiences of combat. His older Brandon would lazily fall asleep on occasions when being tutored in the Library.
Ned would smile back on those memories. How he has grown from the child, he was. Innocent and creative when he once thought he could be different from his family. Fate seems to have a twisted sense of humor taking after parents. The middle child of the family as the second son left him between following his father's standards in tradition, and sometimes where he had more leg room to bend the rules. It was ironic that Brandon would do more so the latter than him.
When he began raising Robb and Jon, he hoped for the chance for things to go differently. Returning from war scared him. After so much death, how could he want to burden them of the responsibilities of being a Stark? 'Let us roam!' Ned remembered his sister's words long ago; When she and Brandon would argue with him about daring to go out into the North to find the lost children of the forest, thinking they could return with the songs of the earth and ride ice dragons like the Targaryens. He knew in each passing moment of taking command of soldiers and sentencing the man to the sword; he couldn't afford his children to be as hot-blooded wolves like his siblings.
The door up ahead was coming closer, and with it, the feeling of fear was creeping. How much did Eddard miss when he was gone? Was Jon disappointed that he left? Was he angry? Sad? Worse, did he doomed him despite all he's tried to heal?
Promise me…
Inside the library it's hallways was also dark, much so the setting sun as the dark was rising above and below. He could not see where he was.
"Jon," Ned called out with a bit of hesitance in his voice. He did not receive a reply.
He continues to walk forward until he finally was met with candlelight.
There were books stack amongst the desk table, with other open books laid around on the ground with no regard. Ned could see his son, but only from his back. He had on him, a black cape with a hood over his head, adding more concern for his well being.
"Jon," Ned spoke softly "what are you doing here alone?"
There was a moment of silence when his son slightly moves his head from whatever he was reading. For Jon to not answer back to him this long added more to how much he has changed.
"F-father," He said, hesitantly but not with any surprise in his voice.
"Did you find the men who attacked me?"
Ned raises his brow at that. That wasn't he would immediately say to him. "No I didn't." a moment of silence return again. Jon's head was returning to the book he was reading.
"You need to get out of this room." He said gently but made it clear he was telling Jon.
"I cannot, not now," Jon whispered. "Not when I'm only beginning to understand…" he said more to himself than his father.
"Your brothers and sisters are worried for you. You need to be with right now. You can return here later, and we'll talk about this."
"There's nothing that can talk this…"
He has never acted like this. "Son," Ned raised his voice a little more. "You're not staying in here any longer. Go outside."
He waited for another response, but he didn't say anything. Jon's hands are gripping the table until his fingers were turning pale. Slowly, he rose from his chair and didn't lift his head towards him. Making his way pass Eddard without care.
Ned sighted. He would have to reprimand him if his started taking it out on either servants or his family. It will not suffice, but he will allow Jon off the hook this time.
He walked over to the books that were open on the desk. These were books he never delved into, all of them were writings on magic; most involving about the dead.
It chilled him to his core, what was Jon delving into that was important?
Looking past all the books, one stood out with its black color design with a round red color at the center of it, he open to turn to look at the first page. The writings were of a different language he couldn't read, but there was a paper at the front what seems to a translation in the common tongue.
Ned picked up the piece of paper a look at the title, and the words were ominous.
"The Mysteriums of the Darksign…"
"By Aldia."
Jon Snow
He wished he did not look into that book.
He didn't want to die slowly like this; become a huskless being that was mindless.
The flashback memories of the past were coming back to him. He could see the downfall of kingdoms and the flesh of man burning. The sky was turning ash grey and the light swallowed by abyssal darkness. All around things began to wither and die and return something dreadful and unnatural.
The Curse of Undeath taking root in all living things.
Tears began to fall from his eyes as he saw a mirror of his vestige began to take form. He could see it now, the accursed sign appear behind his bandages igniting in response to the coming end of his life.
What worse was that it was only the first half of the symptoms he would receive if the book at face value, is correct.
"I'm sorry Arya. I don't think I can keep my promise to you." He sighed. He thought of his youngest sister. Out of all his siblings, he'll miss her the most. Never again, will he know her wild nature, of the memories of them playing together, hiding, and caring for one another.
"I won't even care about it." That was his biggest fear. When he dies, he won't care about anyone. What if he were to see again but as a different… thing? Would he merely ignore her, or worse harm her? He couldn't do that, not when he knows there may be a chance to recover what little he may remember as an undead.
Where could he find the lost souls of the ancients? The Undead Stranger didn't give a whole lot. Neither did the translated paper even provide any details on souls, merely the effects of the curse.
Jon hated that monster. The one would damn him into this predicament. He swears by all the gods that he may one day grant the second death the next time he sees him.
There was a knock on the door.
Arya was coming before him with something in her hand. There was shyness behind her calm face, and he can tell she was afraid of saying something wrong. Despite making amends with one another, his time of keeping his distance has only brought more pain.
"Arya," Jon spoke softly, behind the hood over his head. "are you sleeping well?"
She paces her head up quickly, her eyes turning down at whats in her hands. "I came to see if you were all right," she muttered.
I've upset her, He thought. "What's that in your hands?" he asked, seeing as that's why she was here.
Aya came close to him, moving her hand to hold his. He felt the shivering coldness and the pick cuts on her fingers, leaving scratch marks. She was needling something for him. His heart ached at the gift he was receiving.
"I made this for you," Arya replied. "I had to ask Sansa for help with this so I can get it right." Her face frowned at the that.
"You asking for her help." Jon smiled, "will you both now be gossiping?" he teased.
"Shut up!" She exclaimed with a smile.
He chuckled. Looking down at the piece of cloth, It had the head of a direwolf with a sword crossing over it. The wolf's color white, with the blade dark.
"You did well with it."
"Really?" Arya spoke loud with cheerfulness. "I always worried that I didn't do it right."
"No, it's amazing Arya." He smiled at her. For a moment to two directly stared at one another. Jon peered into her eyes. Looking at the Stark grey color that lay beneath that ice iris that made her eyes glow slightly in the dark. When he would ask his Robb or Sansa about it, they would say they never see it before.
Jon was glad that he was the only that could see them. They were what made her beautiful in every way.
He caressed her check to take a moment to look at her. It may be his last time looking at her. The longer he looked at her, the more he became swallowed by the enchant of her eyes.
Her eyes pupils were dilating. What could she be possibly thinking?
"Thank you," he whispered.
She grabs his hand on her cheek. "Can I stay here with you for a little longer?" Her eyes closed. "Then you can shroud yourself in the dark as long as you like."
More than you realize Arya. "You can stay for as long as you like."
Jon pulled a chair closer to the fireplace. They sat together to feel the heat on their skin.
The flame…
Souls…
He spoke to his heart. "I won't give up on you Arya."
He grips on the cloth, his fingers turning white. "I will die a thousand time to remember you."
Bran Stark
He rode along his horse outside out into the fields. Following along with his brothers and father to witness the passing judgment.
It was a deserter from the Night's Watch. Someone was running away back down south from his duty. Bran saw up ahead, two of men holding down a man in black. Bruised and a fearful look in his eyes.
As they made it to their destination, father walked up to the deserter. "This man calls him Will, my lord." The soldier pulled off his hat. He looked southern; Blond hair, crooked teeth, and a red nose. "We caught him running down, but it seems my lord the Ravens got to you first."
Bran looked at his father as he walked over to the man named Will. There was no judgment on his fathers face. He remained silent. "I… I know I broke my oath." the Deserter spoke. "I should've gone to Castle Black and reported what happened…"
His eyes then began to widen. "B-but I saw them…" He muttered with dread, turning his eyes directly at everyone. "I saw the Others," He cried. "White Walkers they are coming…" He looked back at Eddard again. "The Night's Watch must be warned… everyone." The Deserter catch his breath and swallowed. "I know that what I did was desertion and what comes next… when I die, can you give the word to my family? His strained red eyes peered out. "Tell them… I'm sorry; for being a coward."
Ned gave a nod, and he was quickly put over for the sentencing. Theon had the hold onto the sheath as Eddard pulled out Ice, their family's ancestral Valyrian steel greatsword. He made his stance and spoke. "If you have anything more left to say now Will, now is the time."
"Did you see the ring of fire on the Others?" Jon interrupted. Why is he talking about others, what fire ring? Bran looks to Theon and Robb, but they seemed clueless as Bran was. It was the first time he heard Jon spoke for the day.
His brother hasn't been the same since after everything that transpired in these past months. Jon, while remaining close and being in their presences, was a lot quieter than before. He would only be seen around during training hours and dinner. The only other time seeing him was in the library. It would take their father to get him to come out and speak with the rest.
Arya on occasion now would have to come to him if she wanted his company. The same went for anyone else wanting to see him.
"N-no my lord," Will responded. "I didn't see any on them." He took a breath. "They simply were cold, pale, and they laughed at us."
When he finished, Jon moved away to allow Eddard Stark to finish the sentence. Their father had a grim look on his face when Jon asked that question. His eyes were trailing when he moved behind next to Bran.
"In the name of King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name. King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men. I Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, now sentence you to die."
In one swift slice, the man's head was off his body. Blood is dripping from the blade and off the corpse soiling the ground.
Bran flinches at sight.
"Do not worry Bran," Jon whispered. "This is only natural. You'll get used to it."
Bran looked back at Jon. "But hopefully you won't have to do that yourself when casting the sentence."
When it was all done, they made their way back to Winterfell. The winds were howling the coming of the winter. Bran saw looks given between father and son as they rode by. No words said were needed, for there was tension along the trail.
Down the trail, they made an uncertain stop when they found a dead wolf and stag along the way.
His father kneels to pull out the antler out of the wolf.
"A direwolf…" He spoke uncertainly about what to make of this site.
"There haven't been direwolves in the North for hundreds of years," Theon said.
Robb looks down and saw something flinch behind the direwolf. "Well, that doesn't seem to be the case."
Young pups were cradling to their mother. Whimpering to her and cry in a howl of sadness and are frightened by their presence.
Bran went to pick one up. Its fur was soft and was no smaller than like the star cats that come in and out of their home. One in his hands looks up to him with it bugling big yellow eyes at him. He couldn't leave them here like this. Maybe we can bring them home…
"Father let's take them home." He spoke. "We can take care of them."
Lord Stark frowned at that. "They are wild animals. They will eventually grow too big and are defenseless without their mother. It is best they be put down."
"Right then!" Theon shouted. Pulling out a knife to finished off the one in Brand hands. He holds him back from Theon. "No, you can't kill them!"
"Little lord, your father spoke. Hand it over."
Robb interfered. "Theon, that's enough, he hasn't given an ordered."
"But he suggested it." Theon refuted. "I'm only doing my duty."
"Eddard…" Jon spoke, causing father turns to listen. "There are five pups here. All of them young enough to be raised." He looked directly at father, his hood covering his facial expression. "House Stark sigil is that of the direwolf. These pups were mean for each child."
Ned took in his brothers words. He prayed that father would take heed and allow them to bring them back home.
"Very well." He felt excitant at those words. "You are to be responsible for them. That means you will have to feed them yourselves and be responsible for anything that happens. If they die, you will bury them yourselves, as they are yours now."
They went to pick all of them up, as they began to leave Father to turn to see Jon staring at the dead direwolf. He went down and found another one. Completely fur white.
"Well, the runt of the group!" Theon jested.
Jon did not move from his spot and continued to stare at the wolf. He looks back at them with complete silence and his shadow face towards them.
Bran could finally see his brother face. Jon's eyes were different; it was no longer the same. His skin, and his face, he doesn't even smile anymore, he looked more sickly, it was in the eyes…
They were dark. Not the same like grey steel eyes that were like a black storm, but a full dark color black as night.
"Ghost will be his name."
He went to his horse and riding pass his father without any regard.
"A lone wolf among the pack." He heard echoing.
They followed back to Winterfell. Father left, seemly to find Jon. However, Bran couldn't worry about that. He needed to name his direwolf.
The sound of a cat interrupted his thought and looked back at it. It was bigger than a regular cat. Blue feline eyes, and wild hair all over. They stare at him amusingly.
For a second, he thought he heard the cat giggled for a moment.