Love Speaks Louder Than Words

by Amara Lightskipper

Bran's life seemed to be in order, until he met someone who changed it: Meera. But things turn upside down when they found out that their families were on two opposing sides of a conflict that happened years ago that still remains unresolved. How far will they go for love? Will their love open their families' eyes to seek forgiveness and move on?

12. Bran's Plan (Part 1)

ARYA

Sunday is the only day Arya isn't obliged to wake up to alarm clocks or Nymeria's barking. She hates it when people wake her up on a Sunday. And yes, she would scream murder at the oppressor to leave her alone and let her sleep.

For two months, Arya's been adjusting to her new work schedule. Besides being in the Northern Alliance Builders from Monday to Friday and either on Soup Kitchen or fundraiser events for the Winter Rose Foundation on Saturdays, she's mostly adjusting by working in Winterfell and going home to White Harbor. Well, she never liked it and she thought their Dad's idea was terrible, but his word is law. Bran, however, had to move back home to Stark Manor—where their Dad watches him like the three-eyed raven in the old stories.

Her brother wasn't very vocal about it at home, but at work, he often vented out to her. Arya felt bad for him so once a week, he'd have Bran leave work earlier so he can go see Meera in White Harbor. Besides the Mormonts (specifically, Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna), Arya was the only other person who knew that Bran and Meera still see each other. She honestly thought Meera would make a great sister-by-law because she got along with both her and Sansa.

But of course, their Dad, Ned Stark, had to be the villain in their story so if there was something much worse than the seven hells, it is that that had broken loose.

Anyways, that one particular Sunday was different. With the winter season in and snow-covered everything, it always made her want to stay in bed almost all day. But then again, that plan was ruined when Sansa practically shook her in an attempt to wake her up.

Arya was already mad when she heard her bedroom door swung open.

"Arya," Sansa's panicky voice spoke, shaking her shoulder. "Wake up, please."

"It's Sunday," She replied groggily, burying her face under her pillow. "Leave me alone."

"Oh, come on," Sansa insisted. "It's urgent."

"I don't care," She blurted out, still with her head under the pillow. "Ask Robb or Jon to take care of it."

Arya had then heard footsteps coming into her room.

"Is she awake?" It was Robb's voice.

"Oh, she's awake alright," Sansa replied. "She just won't budge."

"I'll handle this," Another voice spoke up, and it was Jon. "Arya," Then he pulled her pillow. "Wake up, it's noon!

Arya glared at them. "It's fucking Sunday," She reminded them. "Go away and leave me alone!" She screamed then pulled the covers over her head.

"Arya, this isn't about us—" Jon started to say.

"Whatever the fuck it is, you can handle it," Arya said. "I trust you. Just please let me sleep."

"This is about Bran, okay?" Robb said. "We haven't seen him since yesterday and we're not sure where he is right now. And also, most of his stuff isn't in his room."

That caught Arya off guard and made her sat up from her bed, raising an eyebrow at her older siblings.

Robb was still in his pajamas and a plain white sleeveless shirt that showed off his tiny cartoon seedless avocado tattoo on his right bicep—Talisa had a matching one, an avocado with the seed. Jon looked like he had just gotten a hot bath because his hair was slightly wet, meaning he had already gone out for a morning jog on the grounds with his dog, Ghost. And Sansa was still in her pink robe like she had just eaten breakfast and was on her way to her bathroom but something came up.

"Are you sure?" Arya asked. "Maybe he argued with Dad again and locked himself in his room in protest."

"So he's not eating?" Sansa pointed out. "I haven't seen him get out of his room and into the kitchen for a meal."

"Seven fucking hells, Sansa!" Arya exclaimed. "The nightstands on the right side of our beds are literally mini-fridges in disguise, which can obviously store food. If Bran had fully stocked his, he could survive for two weeks without leaving his room."

"I am aware of that, Arya," Sansa said in defense. "I'm not stupid. Robb checked his room. He's not there and as are most of his stuff."

"Have you checked the grounds?" Arya suggested. "He might be just walking Summer in the hedged maze even though it's winter, but just maybe."

"I was just on the grounds doing my winter jog," Jon said, matter of factly. "And I did so, yesterday. I didn't see him anywhere."

"Also," Robb added. "I haven't seen Summer all day yesterday. You all know our dogs eat together in the kitchen with their feeders."

"Have you tried calling him on his phone?" Arya asked.

"Yes," Sansa held out her phone. "But his number is deactivated. Kinda weird."

"Maybe he went to White Harbor," She guessed.

"Wait," Sansa raised her hand. "If Bran went to White Harbor, then why is his car still in the garage?"

"Wow, sis," Arya made a tsk sound. "Have you never heard of cabs?"

"That's my point," Sansa said. "Why would he take a cab when he can use his own car, hmm?"

"Anyways," Robb interjected. "I already called Wex. Bran's not in the Aquamarine. And I also called Harwin (Harwin is their head of security in Stark Industries compound) and asked if Bran ever came to Stark Industries, but no, negative."

"Brilliant!" Arya said sarcastically. "Who in this family even goes to work on Sunday besides Mom or Talisa when she's not on maternity leave?"

Robb took a deep breath before speaking again. "No one, but I have a theory."

"That he moved in with Meera?" Jon guessed. "In White Harbor?"

"Damn it, Jon," Robb huffed. "You took away the suspense."

"Wait, wait," Arya spoke up. "So Bran moved in with Meera in White Harbor, okay. But what the fuck does this have to do with me?" She asked.

Sansa cleared her throat. "Um, you're the only one in this house who might have a phone number of the Reeds."

"But, I don't," She replied. "So all three of you can just step outside my room and let me sleep."

"Yeah," Sansa said. "But you also know people who might."

Arya glared at them. "Fuck you all." She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and scrolled through her contacts.

But Sansa was right, they don't have the phone numbers of the Reeds, but Arya knew people who actually have, and it's the Mormonts.

Arya found Jorelle's number and dialed it. After a few rings, Jorelle finally answered.

"Hey, Stark," Jorelle answered from the other line. "It's Sunday and you're calling. What do you want?"

"Look, Jory," She said. "I don't have time to explain. But do you have Meera's number?"

"Yeah, but why are you asking that?" Jorelle asked. "It's so weird. Jojen had just called Lya and asked for Bran's number." She gasped. "Oh my gods, please do not tell me Bran isn't there and you can't find him."

"Um, that's exactly what's going on," Arya confirmed. "And my brothers and sister literally just demanded that I call you guys right now—wait, how did you know about that?"

"OH MY GODS!" This time, Jorelle was screaming. "Jojen said the same thing about his sister. And he's on his way here now. Do you know what Lyra's thinking? They might have run away together or something."

"What?!" Arya shrieked and threw her covers. "Holy shit!"

"Okay," Jorelle said. "Anyways, do you still need Meera's number?"

"Did you guys try calling her?" Arya asked. "Did she answer?"

"Well, we did," Jorelle responded. "All we got was a network message that her number's been deactivated."

"What the fuck?" Arya cussed. "I can't believe this!"

"Would you stop swearing?" Sansa scolded.

Arya turned to her sister. "Shut the fuck up, Sansa!" She snapped. "You can't tell me what I can and cannot say."

"You need to calm down, Stark." Jorelle insisted.

"How in seven fucking hells am I supposed to calm down?" Arya shrieked. "My brother is nowhere to be found!" She took a deep breath before speaking again. "That's it. I'm going there right now. I need to speak to Jojen."

"Sure," Jorelle agreed. "Maybe you can compare notes to help find them. But seriously, there's a lot that we still don't know."

"We'll figure that out later." Arya promised, then hung up.

After the phone call, Arya was still processing what's happened. But Robb, Jon, and Sansa snapped her back to reality and waited for her to speak up.

"Well?" Sansa said.

"Guys, we have a problem," Arya informed. "A serious one."

"How serious?" Jon asked.

"DEFCON 1 serious."

Sansa sighed in frustration. "Okay, what in seven hells does that mean?"

"It stands for defense readiness condition," Jon explained. "It's an alert state used by the military to match varying situations. DEFCON 1 means the situation is at its most severe."

"Okay," Robb cleared his throat. "Going back to the topic, what situation are we talking about that is most severe besides Bran going MIA on us?" He asked.

"Well, long-story-short," Arya said. "We can't find Bran and the Reeds can't find Meera. And the Mormonts are under the impression that they ran away together."

Everyone was stunned. Robb sat on her bed, Sansa's jaw dropped and Jon frowned. Then they all exchanged troubled looks.

"Oh my gods!" Sansa whined. "Mom's not gonna like this."

"We still don't know if they actually did," Arya assured. "That's why I'm going to White Harbor, like now, to figure out the truth." She said as she stood and started to walk to her bathroom. "Oh, Jon, get dressed. You're coming with me."

"Sure," Jon agreed. "I'll be ready in fifteen." He said before leaving the room.

"I'm coming too," Robb volunteered.

Arya stopped at her tracks and turned to face Robb. "Big bro," She said. "You're on paternity leave. Talisa will give birth any day now, you can't leave her side."

Robb shrugged. "Hmm, good point." He said. "Sansa can go in my place."

"Uh, no," Arya instantly said.

Sansa huffed. "Why not?" She demanded.

"Because it takes you thirty minutes in the shower alone." Arya pointed out. "Another thirty to dab whatever skincare routine you have on your face or body, and an hour to style your hair and pick some clothes to wear that screams #ootd."

Sansa threw her hands in exasperation. "Well, what in seven hells are we gonna do here?" She asked. "Pace back and forth? Mom's already freaking out as it is."

"Yeah," Robb added. "And I think Dad is close to calling the Winterfell Police Department."

"Then calm her down," Arya said. "And try to stop Dad from calling WPD. Also, while you're at it, try to find anything in Bran's room for clues that might lead us to wherever he is."

"I already did," Robb said, matter of factly.

"Well, look again." She insisted.

"Ugh, fine." Sansa rolled her eyes, then turned to Robb. "You do the snooping and I'll do the comforting Mom part."

Robb also rolled his eyes, followed after her and closed the door behind him.

Arya took the quickest hot shower, dried her hair with her hairdryer, and put on some winter clothes. When she got out of her walk-in closet, Jon was already ready, with his black parka jacket, insulated trousers, and winter boots.

Jon was petting Nymeria—who had apparently found her way back to Arya's room after eating her breakfast in the kitchen. Nymeria was now lounging on her bed, like she owned it and was clearly enjoying Jon rubbing her hide like, yes, hooman, that's the spot. And Arya was pretty sure Nymeria was the reason Sansa got into her room in the first place.

"Oh, good," Jon said as he stood up, still petting Nymeria. "Let's go."

"So are we using my car or your car?" Jon asked as they walked in the hallway.

"Mine," She replied. "Also, I did not tell Hullen to take it out so we're heading to the garage."

"Arya!" Robb's voice called.

They both turned and saw Robb running towards them. It looked like he had just gotten out of Bran's room because Bran's bedroom door was wide open.

"Oh, thank the gods, I caught up to you," Robb said, panting. "I found this in Bran's room." He held out a brown expanded envelope. "Could be important."

"An expanded envelope?"

"An expanded envelope of probably important papers," Robb said. "I didn't open it yet, but this one intrigued me." He turned it over and a yellow sticky note was attached with Bran's own penmanship in writing, I'm sorry. :(

Arya exchanged glances with Jon. And suddenly she was nervous.

Robb was about to open it, but one of their staff approached them.

"Um, Mr. Robb," A young girl called. It was Palla, one of their housekeepers, and Farlen's daughter, the man who takes care of their livestock. "Sorry to interrupt, but your wife called for you."

Robb sighed. "Tell her I'll be there." He said turning back to them. "I guess we'll find out later."

Arya snatched the expanded envelope from her brother. "No, I'll take this to White Harbor." She said.

"Godsdammit!" Robb cussed. "Fine, tell me about it when you get back."

Arya and Jon proceeded to the garage.

Stark Manor's garage is located underground in the basement level. Its access is located at the rear part of the house. When you walked out from the back doors in the kitchen, you'll immediately see a car ramp by your left. Normally, they would inform their family chauffeur, Hullen that they'd be going somewhere so their specific cars will be taken out and be parked out by their front porch—as Hullen does on weekdays.

"They did put salt in the driveway already, right?" She asked Jon.

Also, since snow covered everything, including pathways, their staff was tasked to put salt on it to avoid car tires or people from slipping on the ice.

"Of course, they do," Jon assured. "They do that every time it snows. And right before seven in the morning."

The underground garage usually had a total of twelve cars. Each of them had their own parking spaces: Robb, Talisa, Jon, Sansa, Arya herself, Bran, Rickon, Theon, their Mom, their Dad's SUV, and two white vans—used for special occasions.

At the moment, the only vacant parking space was Theon's, since he won't be staying with them until Christmas. They also noticed that Bran's blue BMW was parked right next to Arya's white Porsche.

"Oh, Bran's car is here, alright," Jon said as he checked it out, looking through its tinted windows. "Nothing seems to be out of place."

"I know," Arya agreed. "It feels weird. Something's definitely up."

Arya drove while Jon sat on the shotgun seat.

"So, do you really think Bran would do it?" Jon asked when they were halfway to White Harbor. "Run away with his girlfriend?"

"Well, after the show Dad put on at the Harvest Feast Charity Ball," She replied. "I'd say Bran's considering it."

"Yeah, but he's got a lot of things going on," Jon recalled. "He's Co-CEO of a construction company you both founded. I don't think he'd actually leave all that behind." He took the expanded envelope Arya had snatched from Robb from the dashboard.

"Hey, can you check out what's in there?" She requested. "That I'm Sorry note is making me nervous for some reason."

Jon opened the envelope then read the contents. "Try to relax—oh, shit!" His eyes widened then placed the papers back into the envelope.

"What?" She asked, curiously. "What's in it?"

"Arya," Jon said carefully. "You know, it's better for you to find out later and just keep driving."

Arya glared at him. "Why?"

"Hey, eyes on the road!" Jon reminded her.

Arya's eyes went back to the windshield. "What the fuck is in there?"

"Look, Arya," He sighed. "Honestly, I'd feel safer when we're on solid ground and not in a speeding car when you find out about its contents."

"You're afraid I'm gonna crash the car?" She guessed.

"And lose our lives because you freaked out, yes." He admitted.

The Mormont sisters, Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna lived in a tract housing village in one of the suburban areas of White Harbor.

"I know this is kinda off topic," Jon spoke up. "But if I'm either a journalist, an engineer and a lawyer living together with two other people with any of the said professions, why won't we just buy our own house instead of renting a three-bedroom two-storey single-detached in a cookie-cutter neighborhood?"

"The land property values in the price market here in White Harbor are pretty steep," Arya explained. "Plus, the land where tract housing is usually built is not entitled. The government just lets them rent those parcels of lots and renew every twenty years or so—and nice try trying to get my mind away from that envelope. Just open it and read!"

"I told you, do it later," Jon argued. "When the car is parked and we're not in any danger when you freak out and/or drive us into a tree or something."

Arya sighed and pulled out her car right before the Mormonts' house. She could see another car parked in their snow-covered driveway. It must be Jojen's.

"Alright, we're parked," Arya said. "Now, open it."

"Uh," Jon replied as he undid his seatbelt. "I'd rather have Lyanna read this because she's a lawyer and can justify what you wouldn't believe." He had then got out of the car.

"What the fuck, Jon!" She complained as he ran after him out of the car.

By the time, Arya caught up to Jon, he had already pressed the doorbell.

The door opened immediately and they were met by Jorelle.

"Hello, Arya," Jorelle greeted, then raised an eyebrow when she saw Jon. "…and Jon." She turned back to Arya. "Why is your cousin here?" She smiled at Jon. "No offense."

"None taken," Jon nodded. "I'm surprised she asked me to come too."

"Let's face it, Jory," Arya said. "If there's anyone who can find Bran and Meera in Stark Manor, it's someone who's highly skilled in combat and tactics. Or me."

"Hey," Jon frowned. "I'm a military officer/Black Operatives Troop Captain/Military Tactician. I have a good excuse. You're just nosy."

Arya elbowed him.

"Anyways," Jorelle interrupted. "Come on in, you guys." She gestured for them to get inside their house.

Lyra and Lyanna were in the living room with Jojen, sitting on the couch by the fireplace and drinking from mugs of what looks to be hot chocolate.

Jojen's eyes widened when he saw her and Jon walked in. "Oh, no, no, no, no," He shrieked. "Please do not tell me you haven't heard from your brother as well."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Hello to you too." She turned to Lyanna. "How long has your boyfriend been here?" She asked.

Lya shrugged. "About thirty minutes, why?"

"How the fuck could you guys not tell him that I'm coming here?"

"Alright, Starks," Lyra spoke up. "Just get this over with while I get you both mugs of hot chocolate."

"Ooh, nice!" Arya smiled as she sat on the adjacent couch with Jon. "Thank you, Lyra." She turned to Jojen. "So, Jojen, when was the last time you saw your sister?"

"Last Friday," Jojen replied. "She came home unexpectedly and brought take-outs from the High Marshall with her. The next day I never saw her even come out of her room." He recalled. "At first, we were just thinking that she was just too tired from her job, so we let her rest and left her alone. Then in the afternoon, a package arrived for me. And it was from Meera herself. I opened it and it was all my stuff I left in her flat in White Harbor. That's when I started to question why she did that. So I knocked at her bedroom door, and when she didn't answer, I took the spare keys my Dad had and invited myself in. But Meera wasn't there. That goes the same for most of her stuff."

Jon leaned forward. "Did you find anything in her room that might explain where she possibly could have gone?"

"I did find something," Jojen said, pointing at a folder on the coffee table. "But I don't think that could help pinpoint where she is right now."

"It's not much, really," Lya spoke up. "It's a bunch of news articles about the Massacre of Wolves. I think Meera did a small investigation about why Ned Stark and Howland Reed started hating each other."

Arya turned back to Jojen. "Did you check if Meera was in her flat?"

"Oh, yeah," Jojen confirmed. "It was getting dark out when I drove here yesterday. I was very surprised when her name wasn't in the residents. But I still have my spare key so I went up there anyway and walked into an empty flat. I asked the building management why and they told me she moved out Friday morning. I never told Mom and Dad last night, but then they started freaking out this morning, so I'm here again."

"Did she even show up at work?" Jon asked.

"Yes," Lyra spoke up, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. "In fact, Friday was her last day at work—here's your hot chocolate."

"Thanks," Arya said. "So, Meera never really told anyone?"

Jojen shook her head. "Neither I nor my parents knew about it."

"Technically, I knew about it," Lyra pointed out as she sat down next to Jorelle. "But I didn't know that the Reeds didn't know Meera was resigning. I found out because the Editor-in-Chief offered me Meera's position. Also, Meera told me that I shouldn't tell anyone outside the office that she's resigning because she wanted it to come from her."

Arya huffed. "Well, Great!" She grumbled. "Us coming here is a dead-end. If we don't know where Meera is, how in seven hells are we gonna find Bran?"

Jojen cleared his throat. "So, you haven't seen Bran since…when?"

"Since yesterday," Arya confirmed. "Haven't seen him all day. He never even went to the dining hall and ate with us, so we all just assumed he kept his mini-fridge stocked because he never left his room."

Jojen frowned. "You have mini-fridges in your rooms?"

"Uh, yeah," She nodded. "It's disguise as a nightstand. But anyway, just this morning my Mom was starting to worry so she got the spare key and went into his room. But he's not there. She freaked out and told everyone who's awake to find him. And they woke me up, I got pissed until they told me Bran could've moved in with Meera here in White Harbor and now we're here."

Jorelle turned to Arya. "Aren't you running your construction company with Bran?"

"Yes, exactly," Arya said. "That's why he cannot just leave."

Jon cleared his throat. "Speaking of Bran," He said, holding the expanded envelope and placing it on the coffee table. "We found that in his room." He turned to Lyanna. "And Lya since you're the lawyer, can you check if that's legit?"

"What in seven hells is in there that you don't want me to see?" Arya demanded.

Lyanna took the envelope, opened it, and read its contents. Her eyebrows got higher as she read on. "Oh my gods!" She exclaimed. "How did Bran made all of this possible? You need a lawyer and an accountant to handle these. And technically, he needs Arya's signature—ooh! I stand corrected, it's right there."

"Um, Lya," Jon raised his hand. "If you please, just break it to her gently."

Lyanna frowned at her. "You haven't read any of these papers yet?"

"Oh, I would've," Arya said, then slowly turned to Jon. "Except, I was driving. And the guy sitting on the shotgun refused to read it aloud for me because he's worried that I might drive the car into a tree or off the freeway or something."

"Well, I think Jon made the right decision." Lya agreed. "Because knowing you, you might just drive into a tree. We're namesakes, I would know."

"Just tell me what's in it."

"Okay," Lya shrugged. "First, there's your business permit, a renewed one for the Northern Alliance Builders." She set the paper on the coffee table close enough so Arya could read it.

"What?" Arya frowned. "Why would that be renewed? Renewal of business permits was every five years, right? We're only operating for two years."

"Yeah," Lya said, then placed another paper from the envelope on the table. "This is why it's renewed. An Affidavit of Transfer of Ownership was attached to it. It states that it's changing its type of business from partnership to sole proprietorship. It means you're now the sole owner of the Northern Alliance Builders."

"WHAT?!" Arya screamed.

Jon snorted. "This is why I didn't want you to read it in the car."

Arya ribbed Jon. "This is not funny, Jon!" She said in panic. "How the fuck did this happened? Bran needs my approval for that. So that can be considered null and void, right?"

"Well, not exactly," Lya countered, pointing at the bottom part of the paper. "Because you signed it, it is valid. It's not a forgery either."

"I didn't sign anything," Arya argued.

Lya examined the paper closely. "That does not look forged at all." Lya insisted. "And it's sealed by an attorney."

"But I didn't sign anything…" Arya started to say but remembered about three weeks ago when Bran barged into her office when she was in a hurry because she was late for a meeting with a client. He had a bunch of papers that needed her signature and she hurriedly signed them without reading the contents. "THAT SON OF A BITCH! He tricked me into signing some important papers!"

"Whoa, easy there," Jorelle said. "Also, you just called your Mom a bitch."

"Well, she's kind of a bitch," Arya pointed out. "But that's not the point here! I can't believe I never read the papers he had me signed." She took a deep breath. "Okay, Lya, what else you got for me?"

"Well, the others are more of into your inheritances." Lya continued. "Let's put it this way, when a person dies everything he left behind will go to his/her heirs. In your case, Ned Stark has five children so—"

"Wait, I know that." Arya interrupted. "But what about Jon and Theon?"

"Well, Jon is technically his Mom's heir because he was never really adopted by your Dad," Lya said. "And Theon gets a smaller percentage compared to the natural children. But, going back to your inheritance, there's five of you, everything your Dad owns, it'll be divided into five." She placed two more of the papers on the table. "According to this Shares and Assets Transfer Agreement and Affidavit of Inheritance of a Vehicle, Bran has given all his shares and assets to you, including his car. And apparently, he had fooled your Dad as well, because it has his signature."

Arya couldn't believe it. Bran had apparently left, presumably with Meera, and he left her everything. The company they both founded, Northern Alliance Builders to run by herself; all his shares and assets from Stark Industries, including his car. She was mad that he tricked her into signing legal papers and left without a proper explanation.

"When I see Bran again," Arya declared. "I'm going to punch him in the gut and then I'll crush his nuts!"

"Now, now," Jon patted his hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Cuz."

"How the fuck are we supposed to find them now?" Arya asked, miserably. "We don't even have leads."

"Actually, we have potential leads," Jon said, then turned to Jojen. "Jojen, do you still remember the courier who delivered your stuff?" He asked.

Jojen nodded. "Yeah, of course," He replied. "The Pegasus Express."

"Hmm," Jon thought. "You said the things delivered to you were the stuff you left in Meera's flat. But where are the other stuff?"

"That's another question," Jojen retorted. "Most of the furniture and appliances in that flat were bought by Meera herself. I don't really know what happened to them since they weren't in the flat when I went there yesterday."

"Exactly!" Jon cried. "Which meant Meera sent those things elsewhere. We can ask the courier's management if she sent other packages and where she sent them."

"Oh, nice!" Jorelle wailed, then nodded at Arya. "It's great that you brought Jon with you."

"Uh," Lyanna raised her hand in protest. "I hate to be a hole in the bag here, but establishments like that are subjected to privacy laws and confidentiality clauses. They cannot just reveal information like that to anyone unless you have a court order."

"Oh, godsdammit!" Arya cussed. "Now, what?"

"We have two other leads," Jon reminded her, then turned to Lyanna. "Lya, you said to make those papers possible, Bran needed a lawyer and an accountant. And unless he fooled Robb and Sansa as well, then it's a dead-end."

"Yes," Lya grabbed one of the papers and read the bottom part where the signatures were located. "And nope, it's not Robb or Sansa's signature. It's someone named, Lucas Blackwood and he's a lawyer-accountant."

"Okay," Arya slowly nodded. "We need to find him and ask him questions."

"That last name is from the Riverlands," Lyra spoke up.

"I know," Arya said, matter of factly. "My Mom's side of the family is friends with the Blackwoods. But I don't know him."

"We'll set an appointment," Jon suggested. "This Lucas Blackwood is one of the few people who might know the whereabouts of Bran and Meera."

"Dude, we don't even know where this guy's office is." She countered, then glanced at Lyanna. "Namesake, you're a lawyer. Do you have any idea who this guy is?"

Lyanna shook her head. "Sorry, but no."

Jorelle grabbed her laptop from the coffee table. "Okay, I'm on it." She said as her hands flew on the keyboard. "Oh, here we go. He works at a Law firm here in White Harbor."

"Jory," Lya said. "There are three law firms here in White Harbor. He doesn't work in the firm I'm in. And if he was, I would know. He could be in any of the other two law firms, so please be specific."

"Fine," Jorelle sighed. "The Manderly & Norrey Law Firm. And ooh! It's not far from the Aquamarine."

Jon glanced at the laptop. "Just seven blocks from the Aquamarine. Nice." He said. "You can walk to get there."

Arya rolled her eyes at her cousin. "It's snowing outside," She pointed out. "There could be a blizzard coming, who knows. And it's way too fucking cold to walk." She then pulled out her phone and started punching the number of the concierge. "I'm calling that office to set an appointment with him."

"Hey, put it on speaker," Jon advised. "I wanna hear it."

She rang Lucas Blackwood's office and placed the call on speaker. Soon enough, an answer came from the other line.

"Attorney Blackwood's Office," A woman's voice answered. "Good morning, my name is Caryn, how can I be of service?"

"Hello, Caryn," Arya greeted. "It's good to know your open even on Sundays." She managed a chuckle. "Anyways, is Attorney Blackwood currently in the office? Because I have a really urgent matter that needs his legal advice."

"Yes, Attorney Blackwood is currently in the office," Caryn informed. "But I'm afraid he's very busy at the moment."

"Really?" Arya said with false amusement. "But I live close by. I could literally walk to your office and intercept him."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Caryn apologized. "But if you'd like, I'll schedule an appointment for you tomorrow. And if you really need legal advice now, I could refer you to other lawyers here in the firm."

"We can't wait until tomorrow." Jojen insisted. "It has to be now."

Arya covered her phone's mic with her hand and turned to Jojen. "Just trust me. I got this." She cleared her throat and went back to conversing with Caryn. "No, no, it has to be Attorney Blackwood. But…I guess I'll just have to meet him tomorrow. Is he available in the morning?"

"We'll be delighted," Caryn said. "Can I get your name, ma'am, please? So I can set an appointment."

"Arya Stark." She blurted out.

Arya could hear Caryn gasp from the other line. "Um, could you hold on for just a moment, Ms. Stark?"

"Of course," She then smiled at the others with her. "We're meeting him today."

Jon frowned at her. "You just used your last name to get something done."

"No, Jon," Arya argued. "She asked for my name. That's it. It's not my fault."

"Hello, Ms. Stark?" Caryn called out. "I have good news. Attorney Blackwood can meet you in an hour. So around eleven this morning, is that alright?"

"Really? Oh my gods!" Arya said in delight. "That would be great. I'll just meet him in his office. I can't thank you enough, Caryn."

"Oh, it's just a part of my job, Ms. Stark," Caryn said. "It's no problem at all."

Once Arya had hung up the call, she smirked at her friends. "And that, bitches," She said in confidence. "Is how it's done."

"Nicely done, namesake," Lyanna amused. "And because of that, I am so telling my secretary not to be bothered by big names."

"Alright, so we still got an hour," Jon spoke up. "Which brings to my other lead: tracking their phones."

"Well, probably Bran," Jojen said. "Meera's phone is with me." He pulled out a phone from his pocket and showed it to them. "Her number's deactivated. And we can't track her car as well. She left it at home in Greywater."

"Ugh, godsdammit!" Arya wailed. "Bran's car was parked right next to mine when we left to come here, so I'm pretty sure his phone is probably just in his room too. But we can track their last phone calls, right?" She turned to Jorelle. "Jory?"

Jorelle raised her hands in surrender. "Whoa, first of all, I work at the wireless internet department in Stormbreaker Telecom. Second, we have very strict privacy laws, violating those will mean immediate termination." She sighed. "Look, I wanna help you guys, just not that way. Also, you'd have to be an admin to have that access to records of phone calls."

"An Admin, you say." Arya pondered. "Well, you just gave me an idea." She grabbed her phone again, searched through her contacts, called, and waited for the answer.

"Who are you calling this time?" Jon asked.

"Arya, hey!" Gendry answered. "You called. This is a surprise."

"What's up, Baratheon?" Arya greeted. "Listen I'm gonna go straight to the point here. I need a favor."

"Alright, what can I do for you?" He asked.

"You can track phone calls, right?" She pointed out. "I mean, Stormbreaker Telecom does."

"Put it on speaker." Jon insisted.

Arya obliged. She placed the call on speaker and put the phone on the coffee table for everyone to hear.

"Correction, we can track assessments of phone calls," Gendry said. "It's usually like the name of the person who the caller's calling, their locations when the phone call happened, how long the phone call lasted. And the time and date it occurred. Why are you asking about this?"

"Just tell him." Jon urged.

"Who was that?" Gendry asked. "And am I on speaker? I can hear my voice echo."

"That was my cousin, Jon," Arya replied. "And yes, you're on speaker. I'm sorry, but we're desperate, okay? My brother, Bran has gone unplugged, and so did his girlfriend, Meera. We cannot find them. And besides the lawyer who arranged the transfer of Bran's shares, this is our only other way."

Gendry was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Alright, I'll take a look at it." He said. "You're lucky I know my Uncle Renly's password because you have to be an admin to look at the phone tracking records." They could hear him typing on a keyboard from the other line. "Okay, what's your brother's name?"

"Brandon Eddard Stark," She blurted out.

"Oh, here we go," Gendry said. "Let's see—oh damn! Your brother has two numbers registered in his name. And both are already deactivated."

"What do you mean he has two numbers?" Arya asked.

"One he had been using since the year 300 AC," Gendry informed. "And the other, just recently, like two months ago."

"Okay, who were his last phone calls? Give me the names of the last three people he had called or called him."

"You were his last phone call," He notified. "You were in Winterfell and Brandon was in White Harbor when the phone call happened, it was five minutes long and it was three in the afternoon. And then your Mom, Catelyn Stark, they were both in Winterfell, forty-eight seconds at seven in the evening; and then someone named Lucas Blackwood, they were both in White Harbor, a minute and seven seconds long at five in the afternoon."

"Bingo!" Jon snapped his fingers. "We really need to see that lawyer."

"Anyways," Gendry continued, "All phone calls were made last Friday. And that's just the old number."

"And the new number?" Jon asked.

"It only had one name throughout his logs," Gendry announced. "Either in-going or out-going calls. And it's Meera Reed."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances.

Jojen leaned closer to the phone. "Hey," He spoke up. "Can you look through her logs as well?"

"Who was that?" Gendry asked. "How many people are in there with you?"

Before Arya was about to answer, all three Mormont girls shook their heads and made hand gestures that said, tell him we're not here! And she got that immediately.

"Uh, just two," Arya lied. "My cousin Jon, and Jojen Reed, Meera's brother. We're working together to find them. When was the last time Bran called Meera in the new number?"

"The recorded one was last week," Gendry stated. "It's a forty-five-minute call at ten at night. There are other phone calls listed in the logs that don't show any data on location, date, and time."

"Why is that?" Jojen asked.

"Well, phone calls won't get tracked until its duration reaches twenty seconds," Gendry informed. "In fact, after his last registered call, all the durations of the succeeding were below twenty seconds. The longest call made is nineteen seconds. By the way, I'm checking Meera's right now and it's more of the same. She also has two numbers that are deactivated. And get this, the new one had only been registered two months ago."

"What about her old number?" Jojen urged. "Who was her last phone call?"

"Um, oh, Lyra Mormont," Gendry read. "That's her colleague, right? I remember the Mormonts when we trekked Mt. Alarra."

Arya, Jon, and Jojen all turned to Lyra across the adjacent couch, to which Lyra only shrugged.

Arya cleared her throat. "Any other people?"

"Here's another similar name, Lucas Blackwood."

Jojen made a face at his half-empty mug of hot chocolate. "It's a dead-end." He said sadly.

"Gendry," She called. "Can you take snapshots of those?"

"Arya—"

"Please!" Arya pleaded. "I have to rub something to my Dad's face to wake him up from his old grudge."

Gendry groaned. "Fine. But do not show it to other people. This is classified."

"I won't." She said.

A moment later, Arya received images on her phone that Gendry had taken on Bran and Meera's call logs. And yep, everything is there.

"I can't thank you enough, Gendry."

"It's nothing," He chuckled. "Though, I'm heading to Winterfell two days from now. We can have coffee. Maybe have some ramen or phò. And I can help at a soup kitchen."

Across from them, Arya could tell Jorelle was about to scream, but Lyra and Lyanna covered her mouth with their hands and shushed her.

"Dude," Jon spoke up. "Are you asking her out?"

"Uh…" Gendry started to say.

"Okay," Arya interjected, picking up her phone for the table. "You don't need to hear that anymore." She said, then turned off the phone's speaker. She stood, walked out of earshot to the foyer, and placed her phone near her ear. "Hey, sorry about that."

"Oh, I get that," He responded. "I have a sister too. I'm definitely like that when it comes to Myrcella's suitors." He chuckled. "So, anyway, are we on? Coffee and ramen or go to a soup kitchen? Take your pick."

"I'm fine with all of that," Arya said. "And I think the kids at a soup kitchen will be thrilled to meet the president's son."

Behind her, Jon cleared his throat. "Um, hello?"

Arya glanced back at Jon, who standing by the archway linking the foyer and the living room. He had his arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his face.

"If you don't mind, we're trying to find Bran and Meera." He pointed out.

"I have to go," She told Gendry. "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Gendry said. "Do update me whatever happens and if you need help, don't hesitate to call."

"Alright, thanks again." She said, then hung up the call.

Ever since they hung out in Harrenhal, Gendry became one of her go-to persons and one of her shoulders-to-cry-on whenever she needs cheering up—besides Jon and Bran, of course. Whenever they were together, most people would assume they were boyfriend and girlfriend. But nope, they were just really good friends.

Jon smirked. "You have a lot of explaining to do, little cousin."

"Come on, dude," Arya groaned. "Not you too."

They walked back to the living room to all three Mormonts grinning at her like crazy.

"Well, Arya," Jorelle teased. "There's no denying it this time. We all heard that he asked you out."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Can we go back to the situation at hand?" She turned to Lyra. "Lyra, you were Meera's last phone call."

"Oh, yeah," Lyra recalled. "Friday was Meera's last day at work so I called her because Gwyn and I were planning a girls' night out, but she had already left White Harbor for Greywater Watch. That was our last conversation."

Arya sat back on the couch. "So the lawyer is our last chance of finding them?"

"Apparently, yes," Jon said.

"Didn't Robb checked CCTV footage at home?" Arya asked. "Or the grounds and the gates?"

"Yes," Jon confirmed. "He said Bran left at around three in the morning. He had a backpack and took Summer with him."

"Did he not take a cab or an uber?" She wondered. "We can totally track down the car's plate in the DMV."

"Well, apparently, Bran had thought about that too," Jon said. "Because according to Robb, the cameras at the gates showed him walking the sidewalk until he was out of the feed. That's where he probably took a cab and left."

"Damn," Lyanna said in a small voice. "If I'm not mistaken, he took time to plan this. He's far too smart to leave a trail."

"But he did leave a trail," Jojen spoke up. "This lawyer is our last chance."

"Hmm," Jorelle had a sad expression. "But what if it's another dead-end?"

Arya stood. "Then I'll have to scour Bran's room for other clues. Turn it upside-down if I have to."

. . .

Arya had thanked the Mormonts, before leaving their house. In return, they promised to help in any way by alerting their other friends. Arya and Jon rode her car towards the Manderly & Norrey Law Firm. She offered for Jojen to join them, but he insisted he drive Meera's car instead.

Once they reached the street by the Aquamarine, Arya parked the car by the nearest Starkgrand Coffee.

"Uh, why are we stopping here?" Jon demanded. "The DesMark building is still four blocks away."

"Calm your tits, Jon," Arya assured. "I'm just getting coffee. You want anything?"

"We just had hot chocolate," He reminded her.

"The one I'm buying isn't for me, dum-dum." She said as she got out of the car. "Now, sit tight, I won't be long."

She went inside the Starkgrand Coffee, ordered a hot espresso on-the-go, and walked back into the car. They finally drove to meet Lucas Blackwood.

According to Jorelle, the Manderly & Norrey Law Firm is on the fourth floor of the DesMark building.

Jojen was already in the lobby, waiting for them. "You obviously took a detour." He said once they got close, then noticed the coffee cup she was holding. "You bought coffee? We just had hot chocolate."

"Dude, that's what I told her." Jon pointed out.

Arya cleared her throat. "Will you both just suck it up and argue later?" She interjected. "We have an appointment."

They rode the elevator in silence. The concierge then gave them directions to Atty. Blackwood's office.

A red-haired young woman greeted them—which Arya assumed was Caryn. "Good morning, Ms. Stark," She said with a smile, then turned to Jon and Jojen in confusion. "And, um, company. Atty. Blackwood has been expecting you. Right this way, please."

It was no surprise that Caryn recognized her. For that, Arya had the press and social media to blame for comparing a current photo of herself standing next to her Dad, Ned during a fundraising event, and a photo of her Aunt Lyanna standing next to her grandfather, Rickard in the same event nearly two decades ago for some stupid throwback or this day in history.

"Oh, before we go," Arya handed her the coffee cup. "This is for you. It's a small thank you. A compensation for bothering you on a Sunday and also, a hot beverage in the winter."

Caryn looked like she was just handed a gold bar. She hesitated as she took the coffee cup from her. "I—thank you, Ms. Stark."

Arya smiled. "Don't mention it, Caryn."

Caryn led them to a door that had a silver plate on it that said, Atty. Lucas Blackwood, CPA. She knocked before opening the door, then gestured for them to enter.

The office had a sleek and modern interior with industrial lighting. There's nothing but a desk, two bookshelves, a couch, and a four-seat conference table by the glass windows.

A guy in a suit had just stood up from his chair by the desk and greeted them. "Ms. Stark," He greeted as he reached for a shake. "It's a pleasure."

Lucas Blackwood had brown short shaggy hair and wore graded eyeglasses. He was tall and lean. If he was blond, he could pass off as Jojen's taller and fair-skinned twin.

"And you as well," Arya said as she shook his hand, then gestured to her companions. "This is my cousin, Jon Stark, and our friend, Jojen Reed."

Lucas' facial expression turned serious like he had just stepped on a landmine and was figuring out how to escape without exploding. Then he forced out a smile as he went on to shake Jon and Jojen's hands.

"You've got a nice place." Jojen said in awe.

"Thank you," Lucas acknowledged. "I actually had it renovated recently," He turned to Arya. "The design was from your firm."

"Hmm," She smiled smugly. "Well, I have to say, you have great taste." She cleared her throat. "Anyways, to business."

Lucas led the way to the small conference table and they all sat. "In all honesty," He said. "Your brother, Brandon, had told me to expect you anytime this week."

"Well, that's what we came here for." Arya said, then nodded at Jon.

Jon placed the envelope on the table and slid it across towards Lucas. "It has come to our attention that you had prepared these papers."

Lucas opened the envelope and read the contents of the papers. "You already signed these."

"Actually," Arya responded. "My brother took advantage of me not reading before signing those when I was in a hurry. Is there any way you can nullify it? I mean, it's totally one-sided."

Lucas snorted. "Ms. Stark, even if you tear it into bits, it is valid." He said.

"But I wasn't even aware of it." She argued.

"Yes, but unless you can prove that your signature is forged," Lucas pointed out. "We can't nullify these."

Arya and Jon exchanged glances.

"Fine," She took back the envelope and handed them to Jon. "That's not what we're here for anyway."

"Mr. Blackwood—" Jon started to say.

"Please, call me Lucas."

"Lucas," Jon started to say. "We were aware that you had a phone call with my cousin, Brandon Stark last Friday at around five in the afternoon."

Lucas frowned. "Wait, how did you know—?"

"That's not important." Jon interrupted. "Did you meet with him that day?" He asked.

Lucas nodded. "Yes, he showed me those papers," He recalled, pointing at the envelope. "Making sure if they were signed and I had it sealed with my embosser."

Arya leaned forward. "How many times has he had an appointment with you before last Friday?"

"Just once," Lucas said. "And your brother didn't exactly set an appointment. He just came to the firm and asked if there were lawyers who were also accountants. They found me."

"They?" Jojen spoke up.

"Oh, he came with his girlfriend." Lucas turned to Jojen. "Which I would believe is your sister, am I right?"

"Yes, and then what happened?"

"They asked if I could help them draft papers for transfer of shares," Lucas continued. "I agreed, of course. But they gave me a deadline, that's when I became suspicious."

"Did you ask them why?"

"Of course," Lucas said. "But they never said anything. Now, seeing that you're here, on a Sunday, just proves my suspicions that they were planning to elope or something. And you're here asking if I know anything."

Arya shrugged. "Well, in some ways, you're right."

"Hmm, I don't know that much, Ms. Stark," Lucas said. "But I did hear them talking about mailing boxes overseas."

Jon turned to Jojen. "Reed, your sister sent you your stuff from White Harbor, right? Does the Pegasus Express even deliver overseas?"

Jojen shook his head. "As far as I know, they're a local courier. Their services are exclusively just the North and few cities in Westeros."

Arya slumped on the chair. "Godsdammit, it's another dead-end." She muttered, then stood from her seat. "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Blackwood." She held out his hand for a shake. "We apologize for the inconvenience caused."

Lucas stood and shook her hand. "It's not a problem, Ms. Stark." He said. "But if I hear from them or anything, I'll make sure that information will get to you."

By that time, Jon and Jojen had gotten up then shook hands with Lucas.

"Thank you, we appreciate that." Arya smiled.

They had then walked out of the office. Arya, however, was unsure and uncertain about what to do next.

JON

That Sunday, Jon got involved in an unofficial search mission and had got a bomb from the past about his parents—that he didn't even know about—blew up in his face.

Jon had just finished his morning run around the grounds—yes, he does it even in the winter. He had just gotten into his room, did a few stretches, and right before he was about to take a hot shower, Robb pounded on his bedroom door in Stark Manor.

When Jon started college in the Westeros Military Academy, he had been living in the barracks because that's what happens when you enter the academy. And they were only allowed six hours out on Sundays, so he used those few hours to video chat with his cousins.

Since his Mom died, leaving Jon an orphan, his Uncle Ned—his Mom's brother—adopted him into the family. Well, not legally adopted, more like he became his legal guardian. He didn't remember anything about his mother except that she used to sing to make him sleep and the long scar on his forehead (which is now nothing but a visible white line), is a big reminder of that tragic day. And he was thankful for them being so welcoming and never excluded him or Theon from everything, whether it's family gatherings or social events.

After he graduated and started working in Castle Black Military Base, he had moved into his Uncle Benjen's house in the Gift. But he often visits Winterfell on the weekends and if there are special occasions or he just wants company and relationship advice and unintentional I told you so's—mostly from Arya, after nasty break-ups.

Speaking of relationships, his current girlfriend, Ygritte Giantsbane, is spunky. That's the word he always uses to describe her. She's someone who knows what she wants and does it with a flick of a finger. Not to mention, a skilled sniper, very attractive and has a can-do attitude. Ygritte is two years ahead of him in the academy. And yes, she had definitely barked orders at him a few times when she was his senior. You call that a run, Stark? She had yelled. Stop being a wussy and run like a wolf is chasing you!

But he had gotten to know her better when they were briefed on his first mission as a Military Black Operative. He's just so fucking blessed to have her in his life. Also, she got along well with both Arya and Sansa, so he considered that a very good sign. Her Dad, Tormund is a jolly, happy-go-lucky man in his fifties and a very good friend and colleague of his Uncle Benjen. And thank god for that. After his Uncle Ned's unspoken feud with Howland Reed, family backgrounds suddenly mattered.

That particular Sunday, however, was a rollercoaster, emotionally.

"Jon!" Robb called as he pounded away on his bedroom door. "Jon, open up!"

His cousin sounded urgent so he rushed to open his door. Robb looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Dude, is everything okay?" He asked.

"No, it's not," Robb replied with a shaky voice. "Mom is freaking out because she entered Bran's room to give him breakfast and he's not there as well as most of his stuff."

"What?" He exclaimed.

"I know, it's not like I'm in enough pressure already!" Robb complained. "Now, Mom's crying because she's all sad, I have to read the new marketing proposals sent to me via e-mail, and Talisa's in a weird mood swing especially since she's gonna give birth any day now. By the way, you're gonna be my son's godfather."

"Really?" Jon smiled. "Oh, it'll be an honor. Also," He raised his hands in surrender. "Calm down. You obviously have a lot on your plate. Just let me handle this one. Now, what were you saying about Bran?"

"Hey!" A voice called out from the hallway.

They both turned and saw Sansa, who was still in her pink robe, walking towards them.

"Mom's crying," Sansa noticed. "What is going on?"

Robb turned to his sister. "Little sis, don't freak out, okay?" He sighed. "It appears that Bran has gone M.I.A. on us."

Sansa frowned. "M.I.A. as in…wait, what?!"

"Missing in action," Jon explained. "Even though that term has military origins, it's now a modern slang used to imply that a person hasn't been seen in some period of time."

Sansa waved him off. "Oh, I know what it means. But why?"

Robb threw his hands in exasperation. "How would I know?" He said. "Bran doesn't share his problems with me."

Jon had a thought. "Who's the one person Bran goes to when he's having problems?"

All three of them exchanged looks. "Arya." They said in unison.

"Where is she?" Robb asked.

"Well, it's Sunday," Jon spoke up. "And it's the winter season. If I had to guess, she's probably still snoring right now."

"Then wake her up," Sansa insisted.

Robb hesitated. "You know Arya was very specific on not disturbing her on Sundays."

"But this is sort of, an emergency."

"Okay, you wake her up," Robb concluded. "I have to make a phone call and check the CCTV."

"Really?" Sansa got annoyed. "Now?"

"I'm going to check if Bran's at the penthouse or at work."

"Yes," Jon snorted. "And I will take a hot bath as well. So, you do it, Sansa."

Sansa crossed her arms. "You're just doing this to avoid her wrath."

"Maybe, maybe not," Robb smirked. "I'll join you in a moment." Then took his phone from his pajamas' pocket and walked further in the hallway to make a phone call. It's a distinct feature Robb wanted in his pajamas: pockets. And because those RTW pajamas in department stores usually don't have pockets, he has most of his pajamas tailor-made like his suits.

"Don't worry, Sansa," Jon assured. "We'll join you in pulling Arya out of bed in a moment."

Jon took a five-minute shower, got dressed before heading to Arya's room. Robb was just heading there as well just as Jon walked out the door.

"Hey," Jon called out. "Did you find anything?"

Robb shook his head. "Not exactly. Bran left at three in the morning, with a backpack and Summer. He had just walked until he was out of the camera's feed. And that's probably the time he took a cab or something."

Partly, this experience made him think about the time he was in the academy, from taking limited time showers to being yelled orders from superiors to solving complicated cases relayed out to them by senior officers. Case in point, Jon had to cope with Arya yelling at them to leave her alone for bothering her on a Sunday and pointing out each and every clue they and the Mormonts have to locate Bran and Meera, but to no avail.

Arya was being impossible at first until they mentioned Bran being MIA that she sat bolt upright and did what a big sister does to help her little brother whatsoever. She used her connections and made all the necessary phone calls. They even worked together with Meera's brother, Jojen, and met with the lawyer Bran assigned to draft the documents they found in his room, but still, it's a dead end.

Now, Jon, Arya, and Jojen were sitting in the Starkgrand Coffee branch near the Aquamarine after their appointment with Lucas Blackwood.

Arya was the one who ordered while Jon and Jojen find them a table. A few minutes later, Arya came back carrying a tray with their orders.

Despite there being three of them, they have five coffee orders. Of course, he and Jojen each had one and Arya had the other three.

"Why are there five cups?" Jon asked while they sat by their table.

"Because it's winter and we need to keep warm." Arya glared at him as she sat down next to him, then slid Jojen's cup across the table. "Here's your pitch black and your club sandwich platter. Oh, and don't worry, I made damn sure that's Seitan. Bran mentioned once that you were vegan."

"Thank you, Arya," Jojen said as he took his coffee cup. "But I only ordered a coffee."

"It's my treat," Arya said, then passed Jon a layer of Valean Rolls and his cup of hot espresso. "These are for you. And don't touch the brownies, they're mine."

Arya may not show it, but Jon could always tell if she's upset. It's when she's not being her confident, spunky self, but really quiet and not talking to anyone. And also when she's drinking way too much coffee.

"Arya, I know you're upset—" Jon started to say.

"Of course, I'm fucking upset!" Arya snapped. "My brother ran away with his girlfriend. And now, all the stuff he had left behind technically belongs to me. How the fuck do you think I'm supposed to feel, Jon?"

"I totally get you," Jojen spoke up. "It's depressing."

Arya sighed. "And all these happened because of some stupid decades-old, non-sense feud between our Dads." She said. "What are we even supposed to do now?"

"Be patient," Jon answered. "At the moment, it's obvious that they don't want to be found. But given time, we will find something or someone that will lead us to them eventually."

Then something inside Jon snapped. None of them really knew what happened because his Uncle Ned and Howland Reed never mentioned anything about it. And when they do, it's usually accompanied by rage, a glare that says, we are done talking and do not ever mention it again. Well, at least, that's what it is with his Uncle Ned. But he had never heard Howland Reed's side of the story.

Jon turned to Jojen. "Jojen, is your Dad home?" He asked.

"Of course," Jojen replied. "It's Sunday."

Arya frowned at him. "Why are you asking about his Dad?"

Jon shrugged. "I, sort of, wanna meet him."

"Why? To fuel my Dad's anger?" Arya pointed out. "I don't think so."

"I agree," Jojen concurred. "It's just bad news, man. Plus, we still have to tell our parents the bad news about Bran and Meera."

"I know," Jon took a deep breath. "But look, there are two sides to every story. And so far, I've only heard Uncle Ned's side and not Howland Reed's. Besides, I can see that my Mom would somehow be like the mediator between them. But seeing that she's…not with us anymore, I feel like that falls on to me now."

"Um, hello?" Arya spoke up. "We are still in the middle of the Bran-Meera problem."

Jon sighed. "Fine, how about I just hear Howland Reed's side of the story?"

"Jon, no offense," Jojen started to say. "But if my Dad never told me or my sister the whole story, why would he tell you?"

"I'm Lyanna's son," Jon blurted out. "And frankly, it's my right to know what happened to my mother hours before she died. Your father was one of the people she had spoken to before she passed."

Jojen sighed. "I guess," He said. "It's worth a try. But if he does tell you anything, I need to be there as well."

"Of course, you're gonna be there, Reed," Arya argued. "Because you're taking us to him."

Both Jon and Jojen turned to her.

Arya rolled her eyes. "I also wanted to be there when he tells you his side of the story."

Jojen sighed. "Alright, then."

They all finished their food and drinks before walking to their cars. Well, technically, it was just Arya's car because Jon had just hitched the ride.

They followed Jojen's car southwest from White Harbor to Greywater Watch. Soon the buildings by the side of the freeways were replaced by tall banyan trees hovering over the road. Despite it being winter, it still had green moss on the trees' trunks and branches. Also, because it's winter, it was dark despite being several minutes past noon, and they had to turn on their headlights to see because it was a bit foggy.

Jon commented as they drove through with their headlight on. "This road is like a tree tunnel in those scary stories," He pointed out. "You know, where someone's car breaks down in the middle of the road but had no one to call help for?"

"Nah," Arya disagreed. "It's giving me more of when you're looking for the hermit-in-the-woods vibe. All creepy and mysterious, I love it! But you know, I think it looks so much greater in the spring and summer."

"You're saying I could easily expect Gandalf somewhere?" Jon asked. "Screaming, you shall not pass?"

"What the fuck, Jon?" She snickered. "Well, it's either that or Yoda climbing on your shoulder and offering to complete your Jedi training."

"Yeah," He agreed. "Well, I think the Yoda one is more likely. Because Dagobah is a swamp-covered planet and the Neck is also mostly swamp."

"Or an ogre named Shrek," Arya suggested. "And he'd be yelling, get out of my swamp!"

They both chuckled. They had always pointed out pop culture references for fun when on road trips.

"But let's be real," Arya continued. "If we're gonna find something mysterious in these swamps, it's gonna be Children of the Forest. This place isn't Dagobah or Middle Earth or Far Far Away."

"Shrek's house isn't in Far Far Away." He pointed out.

"Whatever." She snapped.

Greywater Watch is a literal town in the swamps. Because of its marshy terrain, most of the buildings in town were elevated or on stilts. And of course, plants with moss were just everywhere, but they were covered with snow and visibly puddles of swamp were frozen. Some even had rowboats nearby.

They followed Jojen's car as through edge of the town, then through a narrow road with frozen swamp on one side and a gated plantation field covered in fog on the other.

Jon had then remembered that the Reeds owned hectares of plantation fields for the different kinds of berries that they supply to the market. Berries are considered difficult to grow because they need to be planted on wet soil. And the Neck had the perfect soil and climate for it.

"Whoa," Arya said in awe.

Jon could see why. "I think what you meant earlier was, Hermit-in-the-Swamps."

The Reed's residence is standing on its own island surrounded by the frozen green swamp waters. Its façade had the typical house in the countryside with vines growing on the walls. From their gates, there was a stone bridge around maybe twenty meters long to get to the island where the house was. It also had topiary landscapes covered in snow. Jon recognized a few shrubs cut into the shape of lizard-lions.

Jojen got off his car and one of their staff, a valet got behind the wheel and probably drove his car to a garage somewhere. He then gestured for them to pull over and Arya obliged.

"I like your garden," Arya said as they met with him on their front porch. "Topiary is not easy, and I'm speaking from experience."

"Thanks," Jojen remarked. "I did half of that myself. But it looks nicer when it's not covered in snow. And yes, it is not easy to prune those." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, follow me."

He led them through the main door. The Reed's home smelled like freshly-picked berries and hot chocolate and it gave Jon an impression of a cozy farmhouse cottage feel, but modern and also spacious. It had polished wooden floors with patterned rugs, bricked walls, exposed timber beams, and of course, potted plants.

Jojen led them into what he assumed was the living room. There was fire cracking in the stone fireplace. On either side of the fireplace, were bookshelves filled with rows of books. The three-corner couch looks so fluffy and comfy, it made Jon wanna grab a book and curl on it all day. And the wooden coffee table had a vase of fresh blue winter roses on it.

Just as they were asked to be seated, Howland Reed burst into the room, with his wife, Jyana, trailing after him. Both of them looked anxious and worried.

"Jojen!" Howland called. "How did it go? Did you find your sister?"

Jojen had a sad expression on his face, then shook his head. "No."

Howland glanced sadly at his wife. He, honestly, looked like he's on the verge of tears. Then he noticed Jojen wasn't alone and frowned.

"Dad," Jojen started to say. "These are—"

"Oh, I know them," Howland said. "Ned's children."

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Reed," Arya held his hands for a shake. "I'm Arya. Sorry to barge in like this after my father's outburst in the charity ball—and I'm sorry for that too."

Howland gave a half-hearted smile. "No worries, Arya."

Arya gestured to Jon. "Oh, and this is my cousin—"

"Aegon, of course." Howland finished. "Lyanna's son."

What? Jon mentally screamed, then he and Arya exchanged confused looks.

"Um," Jon started. "My name is Jon." He corrected.

"Oh," Howland flinched like he had said something embarrassing. "My apologies, Jon." Then said continued to say something in a small voice. "He changed it."

"Who changed what, Dad?" Jojen asked.

"Nothing," Howland quickly said. "It's not my place to tell you."

Mrs. Reed cleared her throat. "Please, be seated." She said. "I'll get you some food." She then disappeared out of the hallway.

Both he and Arya were seated on the couch across Jojen and Howland Reed, while his wife went back to the way they came.

"So," Howland said. "What brings you here? And how do you did you find each other?"

Arya straightened. "We came to White Harbor looking for my brother, Bran. We went to the Mormonts' home and found Jojen there, also looking for his sister."

Both Arya and Jojen explained what had happened earlier, them calling Gendry—though they didn't name him—to track Bran and Meera phone logs, locations and the last people they had in contact with; and then went on to meeting Lucas Blackwood, a lawyer-accountant which was both in contact with Bran and Meera before they supposedly left without a trace.

Jyana Reed came back halfway through the story with a tray of mugs of hot chocolate and plates with slices of berry tiramisu for each of them, then sat down next to her husband.

It was only then did Jon realize that Jojen and Meera were like younger versions of their parents. Jyana Reed was an older version of Meera, with her long curly hair tied her hair back in a ponytail. But unlike Meera who Jon remembered had green eyes like Howland, Jyana has brown eyes and wore glasses. Jojen was a younger carbon copy of his Dad, only without the beard and he wore glasses like his Mom.

"We dug deep," Jojen said. "Called the necessary people, but nothing. It's like, they don't want us to find them."

Howland turned to Arya. "How did your father take it?" He asked.

"Well, no one at home knows about it, yet," Arya admitted. "But they're panicking. And I think Dad's on the verge of reporting Bran as a missing person."

"But don't worry, Mr. and Mrs. Reed," Jon spoke up. "When we find something, we'll let you know."

Jyana seemed so lost in thought, but Howland squeezed her hand for assurance. Then there were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"Um, Mom, Dad," Jojen broke the silence. "That's not the only reason they're here." He turned to them.

Arya nudged Jon. "Dude, that's your cue."

"Um, Mr. Reed," Jon started. "I was wondering if—"

Arya rolled her eyes at him. "Just go straight to the point."

Jon took a deep breath before speaking again. "Well, Mr. Reed, you were one of the last people my Mom interacted with before she died. I just wanna know what happened from your point of view that day."

"Yeah," Arya added. "Because Dad kind of painted you as the villain in the story."

Jyana frowned. "He what?"

"Well, yeah, there's that," Jon interjected, turning back to Howland. "But honestly, I don't get that vibe from you at all. And I admired how you handled that little scramble at the charity ball." He sighed. "We were taught to read people in the academy, and I know you're a good person deep down."

That was true. Jon had learned tactics of espionage, an Intermediate level of EMT, and Defense Language Aptitude Battery (DLAB) results of Category IV: Valyrian Languages to qualify as a Military Black Operative.

"Academy?" Howland asked like he'd misheard him.

"He's in the military," Arya announced.

"Oh, like your Uncle Benjen." Howland managed a smile. "Good for you."

"So what happened that day?" Jon finally asked. "You said my Mom came here early in the morning with me, right?"

Howland looked down sadly. "Yes," He recalled. "Very early. It was barely six in the morning and there was a blizzard. Our housekeeper said someone was at the door. It was your mother, carrying you and she had a bag with probably clothes in it. She insisted that she needed a ride to White Harbor."

Arya leaned forward. "Why did she want to go to White Harbor?" She asked.

"I'm not sure," Howland admitted. "She would never tell me. Said it was better if I didn't know." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, she insisted that I drive her to White Harbor. But that day, Jyana was sick and no one else was taking care of Meera—she was four months old at that time—so I just handed my car's key to her. I even told her that her timing was perfect because I had just installed a baby's car seat in that car. She said she'll park it somewhere near the Mermen's Court and hide the key under the shotgun seat. I also, reminded her that there's a blizzard and offered for her to stay to wait out the storm. But she said, No, we have to go now. I insisted that she stay, but she never listened. I went upstairs to check on Meera, came back down, and Lyanna was gone."

"She went out in the middle of the storm?" Jon shrieked.

Howland nodded. "Yes, she did. So, I ran to the garage, got into one of the pick-up trucks we use to deliver the berries, and drove after her. I remember it being a white-out blizzard because you can barely see five meters ahead." He continued with everyone intently listening. "When I reached Moat Cailin, I noticed there was traffic congestion. Then I realized that there was a multiple vehicle collision on the road heading to White Harbor. Then I see my car, one of its front wheels was up on the median strip. Its bumper and rear were severely crumpled. The paramedics on the scene were trying to get people out of the cars on collision so I parked the pick-up and ran to where my car was. They were restraining me from getting closer so I told them it was my car and they were trying to pull Lyanna out. I insisted that she had a baby with her onboard. They escorted me to an ambulance," He turned to Jon. "You were being treated there because you had a gash on your forehead."

Jon unknowingly touched the long white scar on his forehead.

"You wouldn't stop crying," Howland said. "The paramedic gave you to me and tried to calm you down." Then he turned to Arya. "That's when your father arrived at the scene. He might've recognized my car in the wreckage. He was relieved to see me unharmed, but then he noticed I was holding your cousin with his forehead patched. Ned asked what was going on. I answered as best as I could, but the answers Ned wanted to hear were something I couldn't give him. Because Lya never told me anything rather than she wanted to get to White Harbor. I told him if he wanted to know, he'd have to ask his sister personally. Then he got mad and insisted that I was hiding something. He took the crying baby from me just as they were able to pull Lyanna from the wreckage."

At that point, Howland was on the verge of tears. He took a deep breath before speaking again, facing Jon. "You know, what I admired about your Mom, is that she always looks after others and often not minding her worse situation. She had a broken leg, a gash on her temple, bruised and scratched, but still, she looked around flailing, where's my son? Is he okay? Those were the last words I ever heard from her. Ned was horrified as he hopped into the same ambulance that's taking her and you to the hospital. I followed the ambulance to the nearest hospital, the Moat Cailin District Hospital where she was declared dead on arrival and they had just put the blankets over up before taking her to the morgue to clean her up. So I went to see her in the morgue. Ned was there carrying you, grieving. Then he pushed me against the wall and confronted me again. He asked me the same question he had asked earlier, but I couldn't give him the answer he was looking for. He started blaming me for everything that happened that day. Then Cat and Benjie arrived and they broke us off. I just went home after. When I got here, there were cops and car insurance people. They questioned me because my car was one of those in the collision and I gave my statement. The following day, the Starks held a funeral for Lyanna in Stark Manor. I went there with my wife to pay our respects, but Ned threw us out saying he never wants to see even a shadow of me again. I haven't spoken to him since—until Jojen's graduation, where Bran introduced Meera as his girlfriend."

There was silence again, then felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Someone might've been calling him. But at the moment it didn't seem important, so he ignored it.

"Jon," Howland spoke up. "Look, what happened to your mother—I didn't mean for that to happen. I feel responsible for—" He choked.

"No," Jon answered. "You were only trying to help her. It's not your fault. And I know my Mom would say the same."

Jon actually does mean it. He believed that Howland Reed was a good person. He saw that back in the charity ball. His Uncle Ned called him names and accusing him of things, but he had never even spoken an ill word in retaliation. Also, his phone vibrating in his pocket was increasingly getting annoying.

Howland nodded, then gave a sad smile. "That means a lot coming from you." He said. "And I'm sure Lya would've been proud of the man you've become."

"So," Arya interjected. "Aunt Lya never really told you why she insisted on going to White Harbor?"

Howland shook his head. "No, I think she was too smart to do that." He said. "She knew I'd tell Ned if I knew where she was going. And it was obvious that she didn't want us to know. But I had a theory, though Ned never had the chance to hear it because that was the time he was blaming me for everything."

"What's your theory?" Jon asked curiously.

"That she was going to meet your father." Howland blurted out. "And probably run away with him, because why would she bring you and packed a bag?"

Arya raised an eyebrow at him. "Why do you think so?"

"Well, while Lya was pregnant with Jon, she always mentioned that she intended to raise him with both parents. But you know, the Targaryens were forced off Westeros and—"

"Wait," Jon interrupted. "You're saying that my father…is a Targaryen?"

Howland's eyes widened. "Oh, by the old gods," He murmured. "Please don't tell me you didn't know that."

Jon shook his head. "I don't."

The Targaryens were the people who had killed his grandfather Rickard and his Uncle Brandon. That information was even in history books, but this was something new. He never knew anything about his father. He had asked his uncles once when he was eight years old, but got completely shut down with his Uncle Ned saying he was probably dead and to never ask that question again. Growing up, asking that question to his Uncle Ned felt really disrespectful because he had adopted him into his family since his Mom died, he raised him like his own son and given him everything. The least he could do was be thankful that he didn't end up being sent to foster care or an orphanage. And because no one talked about it, he just let it go. Until now.

"How is that even possible?" Arya demanded.

Howland sighed. "Well, I'm not the person who you should be talking to about this subject matter."

"Are you kidding me?" Jon said. "You just told me a lot about my Mom in an hour than my Uncles in twenty-seven years. You're afraid that it's gonna give Uncle Ned more reasons to resent you?"

"I just don't want any trouble," Howland replied. "That kind of talk is a family matter."

Finally, Jon got fed up so he took his phone only to reveal nineteen missed calls from his cousin, Robb, and one message. It was in all caps and it read:

Robb; 13:28

DAD IS GOING TO THE REEDS!

Jon looked up from his phone. "Oh, no." He muttered.

"What?" Arya asked.

Suddenly, they heard loud arguing voices coming from the door like people had just entered the house.

"But, sir—" A man's voice started to say.

"I don't care!" Another voice answered in an angry tone. "Where is he?"

"Oh my gods, is that—?" Arya guessed.

"Howland!" The angry voice called again.

It was too late when Jon recognized who it belonged to until the man himself came to view in the living room: his uncle, Ned Stark showed up in his winter outfit with an angry expression on his face.

"Daddy?!" Arya said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Ned raised his hand. "We'll get to that later." He turned to Howland. "Now, where's my son?" He demanded.

Howland huffed as he stood and faced him. "How in the old gods would I know where your son is?" He said. "And you actually had the audacity to barge into my house thinking it's a lost-and-found corner?"

Ned gave him a sneer. "Honestly, this wouldn't be the first place I'd look. But seeing how you never exactly discouraged your daughter from her relationship with Bran, I assumed he would be here."

"Well, I've got bad news for you, Ned," Howland said. "He's not here. And apparently, my daughter went with him willingly. And now, they're somewhere who-knows-where."

His Uncle Ned's angry expression turned to worry.

"Daddy," Arya spoke up. "Our search for Bran led us here. And quite frankly, too many unanswered questions as well. Mostly about Aunt Lyanna."

Ned gave Howland a deathly glare. "What sob stories are you telling them?"

"The truth, Ned," Howland replied. "Your nephew deserves to know what happened to his mother."

"Oh, you—" Ned started to say.

"Stop it, please!" Arya yelled, making everyone turn to her. "Don't you all get it? You're all arguing to prove a point, but it's not changing the fact that it's not gonna bring Bran and Meera back home." She pointed out. "All of this shit isn't a coincidence. Bran and Meera ran away together and obviously, they don't want to be found! You know why?" She gestured to them bickering. "This is why!"

Everyone went silent, but Arya was on a roll.

"And I don't blame them," She continued. "Because who the fuck wants to be in this kind of environment?" Her eyes began to water. "Did you ever for once think about how it might affect us? How you were fueled with your grudge with each other that you forget about our feelings. And you put the family's reputations first before our needs. No, of course not."

Arya turned to Howland. "I'm sorry for all of this, Mr. and Mrs. Reed, Jojen." She apologized. "You were right, one us did take after Aunt Lyanna." She turned to her father. "And it's Bran. You know the worst part? He left no trace for us to even to have leads in finding them."

Then she trotted out of the living room. Jon gave the Reeds an apologetic and thank you look before following his cousin out of the house.

The ride back to Winterfell was silent. He and Arya hadn't spoken a word to each other until they reached Stark Manor. They had to break the news in the family room, where his Aunt Cat and his cousins, Robb, Sansa and Rickon were waiting. And when they did, Catelyn Stark wept. Robb and Sansa were upset, and Rickon was mostly confused like he didn't know what in seven hells was going on.

His Uncle Ned arrived home several minutes after they told the news, and his Aunt Cat literally attacked him—pushing and punching him that Robb and Sansa had to restrain her.

"This is your fault!" Catelyn screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Bran wouldn't have done this if it weren't for you!"

Now, it was quite obvious to Jon growing up that Bran was the closest to his Aunt Cat. So yeah, her being very upset about it said a lot. And it's the same way Arya was to his Uncle Ned.

While all the commotion happened, Jon had quietly walked back to his room to gather his stuff and leave for the Gift as soon as possible.

His white-furred dog, Ghost was lying on his bed. He jumped and wagged his tail when he saw Jon enter.

"Hello, boy," He greeted, gently patting his head. "As much as I wanted to stay here, we have to go."

He gave him a doggie treat before packing his stuff up. And yes, Jon honestly didn't even want to tell anyone he was leaving early. He usually spent his weekends in Stark Manor and drive North to the Gift on early on Mondays so he can freshen up before heading to work. But after everything that happened that day, and after Howland Reed's statement, he didn't feel like staying there.

Jon nearly succeeded, but Robb was able to intercept him when Ghost apparently howled to his littermates.

"Hey," Robb called out. "Leaving so soon?"

"Uh, yeah," Jon said. "I still have some stuff to fix in the Gift." He lied.

"Oh, okay then," Robb shrugged. "Say hi to Uncle Benjen for me."

Jon nodded, then turned to Ghost. "Come on, boy." He gestured for him to follow Jon to their underground garage.

He had Ghost trained at Castle Black to the point where he's very disciplined and almost didn't need a leash anymore. Almost, because Ghost is huge and people tend to be terrified of him because he looks like a wolf. He still used a leash when they're in public places. Ghost followed orders without hesitation and he didn't chase cats. He may be huge and wolf-like, but he loves cuddles and doggie treats. And if he would, Jon could register him as a service dog.

Jon wasted no time and drove off just as soon as he had strapped Ghost with the doggie seatbelt.

The Gift was the housing facility to families with ranks in the military, whether it be officers who worked at either Castle Black Military Base, the Shadow Tower Airfield, or Eastwatch Harbor Naval Base.

The house he lived in in the Gift was assigned to his Uncle Benjen. He invited him to live with him because he didn't wanna live alone in a fairly big house. According to Tormund—Ygritte's Dad—his Uncle Benjen used to live there with his girlfriend, but she died in a raid mission in the Westerlands and he never had SO in his life since.

He arrived home to his Uncle Benjen, drinking hot chocolate on his recliner by the fireplace.

"You're back early," His Uncle Benjen said. "Oh, by the way, I made bread pudding and there's hot chocolate as well."

"Thanks, Uncle Benjen." He replied.

"Oh, wait," Benjen stopped him. "I know that face, what's wrong?" He asked.

Besides Ygritte and Arya, his Uncle Benjen could always tell if there was something wrong. No matter how good he hides it.

Jon sighed. "It's a long story, Uncle Benjen."

Benjen glanced at his watch then shrugged. "Well, it's only three in the afternoon, Jon." He said. "Which meant we have a lot of time."

Jon sat on the couch adjacent to the recliner. "Alright, first off. I sort of have some bad news: Bran run away with his girlfriend."

Benjen nearly choked on his hot chocolate. "What?" He shrieked in disbelief.

"Well, Uncle Ned found out that Bran's girlfriend, Meera is the daughter of Howland Reed." He informed. "And it turns out they haven't spoken to each other since my Mom died."

Benjen made a tsk sound. "Oh, right." He said. "Ned had always blamed Howland for Lya's death."

"She died in an accident, right?" Jon recalled. "All Howland Reed did was lent her his car."

Benjen stared at him in surprise.

"I spoke to him earlier."

"You what?"

"But that's not the information that surprised me at all, Uncle Benjen." Jon took a deep breath before speaking again. "When we met, he called me a different name. He called me…Aegon," He blurted out. "Who in seven hells is Aegon? He also said my father was a Targaryen."

Benjen's face dropped. "Jon…"

"If you say, 'I'm not the person you should be talking to about this'," Jon interrupted, quoting his fingers in the air. "Then who should I be talking to about it then? My Mom's dead, so it's either you or Uncle Ned. And quite frankly, I'd rather hear it from you than Uncle Ned."

His Uncle Benjen was quiet for a while like he was hesitating.

"Please, Uncle Benjen," Jon pleaded. "I just want to know the truth."

Benjen sighed, then finally talked. "Alright, what do you wanna know?"

"Why did Howland Reed call me Aegon?" Jon asked.

Benjen placed his mug of hot chocolate on the side table next to his recliner. "Aegon was the name your Mom gave you." He revealed. "I remember her talking to me once when she was pregnant and I asked her what her baby's name would be. She said that if it's a girl, Arya, and if it's a boy, Aegon."

"But why is my name Jon right now?" He wondered. "Why did you change it?"

"Oh, I didn't change it," Benjen defended. "Your Uncle Ned did."

"Why?"

"Because he didn't want any association with your father's family." He explained. "And Aegon is a common name in the Targaryen family. And especially since, well… you know."

"So who's my Dad?" Jon finally asked.

Benjen took a deep breath before talking. "His name is Rhaegar Targaryen." He blurted out. "He's the firstborn son of Aerys Targaryen, the man responsible for the deaths of your grandfather Rickard, and your Uncle Brandon."

Jon knew part of that story. It was in History class and according to his teacher, Rickard was a shoo-in candidate for the presidency in the opposition. And it was one of the reasons, Aerys arranged to plant bombs on his grandfather's entourage, killing ten people in the process.

In Jon's case, seeing now that his Uncle Benjen confirmed his Dad is Rhaegar, his paternal grandfather had his maternal grandfather and uncle killed.

"How did they even meet?"

"Through their charity work," Benjen said. "But that wasn't the problem back then. The thing was, Rhaegar was already engaged when he met Lyanna."

Jon's eyes widened. "Wait, so—"

"Don't worry, it's not what you think," Benjen assured. "Lya merely stayed away. And a few months after Rhaegar broke off his engagement to some Dornishwoman, they started dating."

"What's he like?"

"He's nice." His uncle replied. "And surprisingly, very humble. He also likes being around children."

"Where is he now?" Jon asked. "Didn't he wanna see me? Is he even still alive?"

Benjen gave him a sad smile. "Well, after the news came out about Aerys masterminding my father's murder, the remaining Targaryen family fled to Essos, but I don't know where. And when your Mom died, your father did come for you. But your Uncle Ned refused to give you to him and had him banned from ever stepping foot on Westeros. As for him being still alive, I don't know."

With that being said, Jon didn't know if he was supposed to be happy, angry, or sad about it. As for his Dad, he'll find more information about him. Well, there were a lot of things, he still didn't know. But for now, he needed a distraction. Maybe volunteer for missions with Ygritte to keep him busy at the moment.