Winterfell, some time later
A dark-haired, curly haired boy slept in a bed shirtless, but under the blankets and fur his nakedness could not be seen. Jon Snow was the illegitimate son of Lord Eddard Stark and proof that even the most honourable man in the kingdom could make a mistake and fall victim to lust. Jon's existence was a stain on his father's honour, a stain that no one, not even the boy's eventual legitimisation, could erase.
Suffering, anger and astonishment were just some of the feelings that Lord Stark's new wife must have felt when her husband returned victorious from the war holding in his arms the irrefutable proof of his betrayal as well Lady Catelyn was clutching an infant in her arms only unlike Jon that child was legitimate.
At that time, Catelyn was still a Southern maiden who had to acclimatize and learn to call the cold and inhospitable North home. At that time, Tully was not yet in love with her husband, the deep feeling that bound her and her husband had yet to be born, and it was probably also because of her insecurity that Catelyn asked her husband to send the result of his betrayal elsewhere, but Ned refused to do so despite his wife's arguments and protests, remaining adamant
There were days, in fact, it would have been fairer to say that there was not a day that Jon did not wish that his father had listened to his stepmother and sent him away so that he could grow up elsewhere. His stepmother hated him and did little to hide the contempt she held in his eyes, and made sure he did not forget the conditions of his birth. It was no surprise then that Jon wished he did not live within the same walls as this woman, who, although she was not cruel to him, was far from being kind to him.
How many times over the years had Jon resisted the urge to say to her: it's not my fault I'm a bastard, or you don't know how much I want to be your son. Not because he really wished to be the fruit of a woman's womb, blaming a poor child for his father's faults, but simply because if he had been Lady Catelyn's son she would never have hated him and, above all, he would not be a bastard. He had no desire to be the firstborn and steal Robb's place as heir, he would have been fine with being the youngest of his father's sons if it meant being legitimate.
Five children Eddard Stark and his wife Catelyn Tully had had a total of five children: Robb, Sansa, Arya, Brandon and Rickon and the half-brother would not have been surprised if, eventually, his father announced that his wife was pregnant again because the couple seemed very fertile and despite having already given birth to five children the Lady of Winterfell seemed more than willing to welcome another auburn-haired, blue-eyed boy or girl or perhaps this time the sixth pup would inherit the Stark characteristics unlike his other siblings, except for Arya.
Lord Stark did not mind that his children looked more like Tully's than Starks. His eldest daughter then looked remarkably like her mother, and Jon had often heard that Sansa reminded her so much of her mother when she was young. The lack of Stark traits, or at any rate the fact that her children looked more Tully than Stark, except for Arya, only seemed to be a problem for their mother. Rumour had it that Lady Stark feared that someone might question her children's right to succeed their father because of their appearance.
The truth was that Catelyn lived in fear that one day Jon might take Winterfell from Robb, and although the bastard could not blame her for her fears since history was full of bastards who had tried to rob their half-brothers of their rightful right to succeed them, he constantly wondered what and how she could prove to his stepmother that her fears were completely unfounded and that he did desire the name Stark, but only because it would mean that he was a legitimate son and not a bastard.
Actually, Jon had been wishing for some years that he wasn't a Stark at all, or at any rate that he wasn't Lord Stark's son because if he hadn't been Eddard's son, sweet and beautiful Sansa wouldn't have been his sister and he… Lady Stark would have killed him with her hands, she suspected that all the mercy and patience she had shown him over the years would vanish instantly if she found out about Jon's feelings for her eldest daughter. The worst part was that her stepson wouldn't blame her. Well, at the very least, she would have had good reason to hate him and want him to leave Winterfell.
He would not have been able to say exactly when he had started having those feelings for Sansa, that is, thoughts that went beyond simple sibling love. Until a few years ago, he and Sansa were closer because she invited him to join her and her siblings when she wanted to pretend to be a damsel distressed. In retrospect, it may be that he should have realized even then that something was wrong, since he always wanted to be the handsome knight who would save the damsel distressed by earning a chaste kiss on the cheek.
He had begun to realize that his feelings were not so chaste when one day Theon Greyjoy, House Stark's hostage, had the audacity to turn his head and kiss Sansa on the lips. A kiss that lasted only a few seconds, but unleashed Jon's rage, as Robb merely laughed while Sansa blushed. Initially, he had tried to convince himself that it was normal for a sibling to be angry if a man kissed his sister, however he soon realized that his was no normal jealousy and when the next time, Sansa asked him to participate in one of the revocations of the songs he adored he refused and would never forget the disappointment behind his blue eyes.
Pursued, Sansa had started to ignore him, taking an example from her mother, and had begun to look at him differently. He had mixed feelings about his sister's behaviour because, on the one hand, he hoped that her displeasure would help him forget about her, but on the other hand, he could not bear the way she looked at him. Sansa had lost interest in the songs, or rather she no longer asked her siblings to revoke them together, asserting that she had now grown up to play. Grown up?! She was only twelve years old, damn it!
Another reason he felt guilty about his feelings for his stepsister was her young age. There was nothing particularly untoward in his thoughts; he only wished that he was the one dancing with her during the parties organized in Winterfell and that it was he who had stolen her first kiss. At most, he dreamed of being married to her and of them having children. Nevertheless, he could not avoid feeling guilty for longing for her love not only because she was his father's eldest daughter, which in itself was already a more than valid reason, but also because she was only a child.
A child whose requests for her hand were continually reaching Winterfell were numerous lords from the North and even some from the South who desired her hand in marriage for one of their sons or even for themselves. The boy wished not to be a bastard, not to be his brother, to dare ask Lord Stark to marry his firstborn. The sad truth was that even if he was not her half-brother, he was still a bastard. After all, Lady Catelyn had a point when she insinuated that he was a threat to her blood and that he was ambitious only if it wasn't Robb's place he dreamed of having.
He had decided to join the Night's Watch because it was the only place where a peasant, a mongrel, and a noble were treated similarly and where even a mongrel could aspire to become someone important and lead men and no one would be surprised if one day he became Lord Commander. There was no place for him in Winterfell no matter how kindly Robb and his other brothers treated him as if he were a legitimate son because no matter how much Robb could swear that Winterfell would always be his home and that one day he would give him a place at his table when he was Lord of Winterfell the sad truth was that he would always and only be a bastard. No matter how much his brothers might pretend otherwise, and then it might be that by being away from Lady Sansa he would forget about her and not run the risk of hurting one of her suitors. Yes, it was the best thing for everyone.
The arrival of the king, the royal family and their retinue had somewhat disrupted Jon's plans, and he had not yet been able to talk to his father about his intention to go to the Wall as he had intended to do because Lord Stark had been very busy organizing the castle for the arrival of the king and his guests and the bastard son had decided not to give him any further thought and to wait. On the plus side, the arrival of his Uncle Benjen, who was a Ranger of the Night's Watch, was also planned, and the boy believed that his uncle's visit came at just the right time.
Lady Stark insisted that he, Theon and Robb have their hair and beards cut, and although he did not understand the need for him to be tidy for the arrival of the royal family as he would be forbidden to sit at the same table as his family, contrary to what usually happened because his stepmother did not want the king and queen to be offended by the presence of the bastard from Winterfell. Nevertheless, Jon gritted his teeth and allowed his hair to be cut. He loved his black curls, and it was a pain for him, but he knew he could not oppose an order from the Lady of Winterfell.
When the procession finally reached the castle square, they saw for the first time in all of King Robert Baratheon the man who sat on the Iron Throne and ruled the realm. The one who held power over them all was a man bigger than long with dark hair and a long beard. He and Ned must have been about the same age, but the king was much bigger than his best friend.
Lord Stark introduced all his sons to the king, starting with Robb and ending with little Rickon and, of course, he didn't even mention Jon who, although he wasn't at all surprised and certainly didn't expect anything different, couldn't help feeling a sense of sadness invade him as he remembered that he didn't count for anything.
Queen Cersei was a true beauty with her long golden hair and emerald green eyes, and the boy wondered if it was bad of him to think that it was a good thing that the queen's children did not look the least bit like the fat man who fathered them. Princess Myrcella was a miniature version of her mother and she seemed to be impressed with Robb, and how could she blame her? The Heir of Winterfell was charming with her auburn hair and blue eyes that had inherited the best from both parents. Only Robb's attention seemed to have been caught by something behind the princess.
Long hair of a much lighter blonde than the princess' tied in a braid, dark eyes that clashed with the whiteness of her hair and skin. The maiden who had caught his half-brother's eye was certainly a beauty. Wearing a pair of men's breeches and a furred cloak, sheltering her from the cold of the North, she stood beside a horse that Jon guessed was her steed. Jon was surprised and at the same time impressed because he suspected that no other woman would ride dressed as a man and from King's Landing all the way there except for his half-sister Arya, though he would have to convince his parents to let him first.
"Lord Stark, may I present my niece, Lady Meria Baratheon." Said the queen, casting a reproachful glance at the maiden as she walked towards them. "Forgive her attire, but Lady Meria has not yet learned that it is improper for a woman to ride dressed as a man." She continued, glaring at the girl, who did not flinch.
"Forgive me, majesty, but riding dressed as a man is much more comfortable." The girl replied. Jon had the impression that she was not mortified at all.
"Cersei let the girl ride dressed as she chooses." The ruler intervened, then turned back to his best friend. "Take me to the catacombs, so I may pay my respects." He continued seriously. Those innocent words irritated his wife not a little.
"We have come a long way, my dear. The dead can wait." She remarked contritely. The king ignored her and Eddard agreed to accompany him to the crypts of Winterfell. Jon was confused because he could not understand why the queen was annoyed that her husband wished to travel to the catacombs.
Later that evening, Jon was in the great hall of Winterfell. The banquet was in full swing and he was not quite himself. One of the fortunes of being the illegitimate son was that he could drink more than one goblet of wine if he wished, and that evening he suspected he had overdone it a little, but the sight of Lady Sansa speaking amicably to Prince Joffrey and seeming to hang completely on his every word irritated him. The king wished his eldest son to marry the eldest daughter of his best friend, and Lord Stark had agreed to the union and had also agreed to fill the role of The Hand that had been left open after Lord Arryn's recent death.
Jon forcefully cut the meat on his plate, wishing he could cut the skin of the crown prince's face instead.
"What has that poor flesh done to you?" His uncle Benjen asked as he sat down beside him. Benjen and his companions had arrived a few hours after the king and his retinue, and so far, he and the nephew had not had a chance to talk. "Robb seems very taken with Lady Meria, pity she is married to the king's brother. Renly is his name if I am not mistaken, and they also have a son I hear, but I do not know his name." He replied, breaking a sheaf of bread and stuffing it into his mouth. Benjen was fully dressed in black, as he was every time the nephew saw him.
"You can't choose who you fall in love with." He replied without thinking, staring at Sansa who was laughing at the prince's joke. She looked away and stared at the contents on her plate.
"Nothing good can come from loving a married woman." His uncle commented, and Jon would have liked to add: not even from that of a brother for his sister.
"I have decided to join the Night's Watch." He announced.
"You are too young to make such a decision. Do you really think you are willing to give up a life without a wife and children? You will never experience the joy of holding an infant in your arms." Said his uncle seriously.
"I will hold Robb's children as you held my father's." He retorted. The Ranger took a sip of wine.
"Jon, you have no idea what awaits you at the Wall. Wait a few years and if you are still of the same mind, then you can come to the Wall and join us. If you like, you can even come and see what it's like up there." He proposed.
"I am sure of my decision, and nothing you say will change my mind." He said in a firm tone, a little annoyed by his uncle's words. Exasperated and feeling the need to take a breath of air, he decided to leave the hall and on his way out he saw Robb inviting Lady Meria to dance, but he was too guilt-ridden about being in love with Sansa and the fact that his uncle considered him a child to care about his brother and Lady Meria.
He decided to train in the training ground in an attempt to vent his anger. After a while, he was joined by Lord Tyrion. The queen's younger sibling was a dwarf and told him that he understood his state of mind because dwarves were like bastards according to their fathers, and Jon thought that he was lucky after all not to be a bastard and a dwarf to boot. He exchanged a few words with Tyrion, and although he did not lover him aloud, he had to admit that the Imp had made a good impression on him.
When he decided to go and rest in his room, the banquet was still in full swing and the corridors of the castle were deserted; however, as he approached his room, he suddenly thought he heard Robb's voice coming from one of the adjacent corridors. Intrigued, he approached to see if the person in question was indeed his half-brother.
When he looked into the corridor, he saw Robb in an attitude he would have expected more from Theon than from him. Sure, Theon had sometimes managed to drag Robb to the brothel in the village near the castle, but never had Jon seen or heard anyone say they had caught Lord Stark's eldest son secluded in a dark corridor with a woman. Such a thing Jon would have expected from Theon, yet there was no doubt that the one a few feet away from him conversing with Lady Meria was his half-brother.
"I do not think this is the proper time to visit the castle and its environs. I think tomorrow morning would be a more appropriate time." Said the woman. Apparently theirs was an innocent conversation and the Heir of Winterfell maintained a more than appropriate distance and had been kind to offer to accompany Lady Meria on her visit, yet Jon sensed that this was not a normal conversation, perhaps because of his uncle and what he had said in the hall.
"Yes, tomorrow morning I will be happy to show you the castle." Robb replied. The girl's lips curved into a smile.
"I'm very curious, and I'm sure it will be a lot of fun." The blonde replied, looking Robb in the eyes, then did something that took both boys surprised: she brushed Robb's lips in a gentle kiss and then ran away. Robb stood still for a few seconds, clearly taken aback by that gesture, then looked at the spot in the corridor where the girl had disappeared.
"Robb, are you going to bed already?" Snow asked. The other gasped startled, then turned to look at him: he had the same expression as when, as a child, the cook had caught him stealing sweets before dinner.
"Yes, I'm tired, it's been an emotional day." He replied.
"Good night." Wished the other. Robb did not answer and went straight to his room.
When Meria reached her bedroom she was in particularly good spirits and Lily was happy to see her lady smiling again, but when she asked her why and the noble replied that it was for Robb Stark the servant girl shivered.
"My lady you cannot. You are married." She reminded her. Meria removed the necklace she wore around her neck and slipped it into the small box above the dressing table.
"My husband gave me permission to have a lover and Robb is so charming." She replied, smiling as she sat down in the dressing table chair and began to brush her hair. "Don't worry, Lily, everything will be fine." She added in a low voice. Her friend did not look convinced at all; however, she did not reply. She took the brush from her lady's hands and began to brush her hair.
"I have seen the Heir of Winterfell and I must admit that it has charm." She commented.
"Yes, it's really nice, too bad only…" Meria interrupted and bowed her head instead of finishing her sentence. "I'm tired, Lily and I think you are too. Go ahead and go to sleep." She said. Lily put down her brush and took her leave with a certain reverence.
Left alone, Meria changed for the night and crawled into bed. That night she had one of her usual nightmares, she dreamt of the army of the undead sowing death and destruction, but she also dreamt that she entered a room where there were two little white-haired wolf cubs, only when she approached them, the two cubs turned into little dragons, but she was not frightened of them, she smiled at the little winged creatures and took them in her arms, cradling them as if they were babies.