Jaeron Targaryen
Winterfell, 299AC
The next few days were strange, to put it lightly. Due to the size of the dragons, it was simple to keep them hidden from view. No one could know other than the family and Maester Luwin. All it takes is one servant to see them to gossip, then someone goes home for the day and gossips. Then before anyone can blink, everyone in the North will know. They barely made any noise apart from angry huffs when Jon wasn't feeding or petting them enough, very much acting like spoiled cats, but it wasn't loud. The young boy sighed deeply before sliding out the sword from underneath his bed to examine it. His head was in a state of turmoil ever since they had hatched.
Yes, he knew the truth, but now that he had physical reminders of the truth, he had no choice but to face the facts. Jon had no idea how to be a Targaryen, no idea on how to be a Prince, was not versed in courtly politics. These were things he was going to need to work on and master if he was going to do it. Does he want that stupid chair his ancestor had built from the swords of other Kingdoms? No, he can categorically say that. However, there was no way he was going to be able to get justice for those who had lost their lives without claiming it. He'll either crumble under everything, or flourish from the dirt. Hopefully, it would be the second. There are four people left in his family, and one is elderly. He wanted to go to the wall for hiding, but this wasn't his main reason. His main reason was to see Aemon again and take in some of his wisdom.
Despite there being almost ninety name-days between uncle and nephew, he had given him sound advice the few days he had spent at Castle Black when he found out the truth. They'd sent correspondence back and forth frequently, keeping them in the chest alongside the letters he had gotten from his mother, father, and Elia. Everyone thought that the Princess was dishonoured by Rhaegar's act of crowning Lyanna, but she confirmed herself in her own words she was anything but. From reading in detail, it was clear she didn't love Rhaegar, but saw him as a good friend. Everyone thought that Rhaegar had kidnapped Lyanna a year after Harrenhal, but they were in regular contact that whole year and met up in secret frequently during the tourney. It was how they had first met after all.
Ned had never told them the story; it was only when Jon had brought it up after coming across it in one of Lyanna's letters that he finally told them all. How three squires had beaten Howland Reed only to be scared off by a petite Lyanna Stark. To her trying to convince him to win back his honour by competing against them but the Lord refusing to do so as he wasn't a good fighter nor was he a good jouster. To Brandon and Benjen relenting and getting a suit of armour that was mismatched for their sister so she could do it instead. The whole mystery of the Knight of the laughing tree was just that- a mystery. They'd disappeared after the match never to be seen again, or so people thought.
What had happened was King Aerys ordered his son to find the Knight and bring him to court as he was convinced of something going on. If only his grandfather realised that there was something going on, and it was his wife and eldest son at the forefront of it all. There was only one letter from Rhaella and it was addressed to Rhaegar, confirming she had fallen pregnant with Daenerys after Aerys had forced himself on her. The thought sickened him to his stomach. It was bad enough they were brother and sister because this went against every moral fibre in his body, but the fact a brother was forcing himself on his sister was a whole lot worse.
Rhaegar Targaryen had come back two hours after the order was made with only the Knight's discarded shield, saying this was the only thing he had managed to find. There was no scent for dogs to track, there were no tracks on the ground, no other pieces of armour. They'd literally vanished into thin air seemingly. But his father had lied to everyone in the room. He had found the mystery Knight alongside Ser Arthur. They'd stumbled on a then fourteen name-day old Lyanna Stark scrambling to get the armour off and chucking pieces in the lake surrounding the Isle of Faces- where they would later wed secretly. She'd thought he would take her, but he'd instead laughed and congratulated her for her bravery. They'd talked for well over an hour before Howland Reed found them confirming that Aerys was going to send a search party for Rhaegar. The Prince had silenced both him and Ser Arthur to secrecy on the matter before taking the shield Lyanna had yet to throw into the water and directing her to a small cave so she could hide until it was safe for her to come out.
The whole thing was bonkers, there was no other way to put it. He had blatantly ignored orders from not only his father but from his King, to help a girl he'd never met before? Just that one act would change Rhaegar's persona and would grant him respect. There would be no way to do that though without deposing of those who had wronged everyone on a false claim. No, Robert Baratheon did not make the claim to become King. He'd done it because he was insulted and wanted to take out the man Lyanna wanted to break the betrothal to be with so she would remain his, a fact she knew very well by her own words that the family had read. He had been thinking of 'in the now' and not the further implications.
It was known Tywin Lannister was going to stop at nothing to get his golden-haired daughter married to a Prince or King. He'd tried to set her up with Rhaegar, only to be laughed off by Aerys who spit in his eye by marrying his son to Elia Martell. Martell's and Lannister's were famous for their hatred of one another, this clearly being a factor to the match. With Rhaegar defeated, Aerys dead, all Targaryen heirs murdered or gone into exile, meant a new ruler had to be elected. And with the Lord of Storms End being a grandson of a Targaryen meant he had the best claim, therefore being named as King. A status that had not been kind to him in the slightest.
"Jon, you'd better come quickly. Bran's woke up."
He jumped as he came out of his thoughts to eye his cousin, the older practically bouncing on his feet in excitement. Jon eyed the dragons and gave a command for them to stay put and remain quiet. Whether they understood him was up in the air. If books were correct, dragons only responded to phrases in High Valyrian which he was still learning. Every morning and night he revised over the language, and it was worked into their lessons as well. He'd picked up on it quickly, and Aemon had been kind enough to give him letters Rhaegar had sent him that were written in it so he could practise. It didn't take him long to realise Ghost was trotting along beside him, never leaving his owner alone. Grey Wind was much the same, practically walking on Robb's heels.
Once they had entered the room, they were met with Maester Luwin running a few tests to make sure he didn't have any internal injuries. Catelyn was sitting on the bed holding her son's hand and talking quietly to him. Their heads snapped to the oldest two and the Lady gave them a tight-lipped smile. This made Jon pause, he would've expected for her to be wearing an ear-splitting grin at him waking. Something was wrong, very wrong.
"Did you find out who the knife belongs to, Maester?"
Luwin turned to the new Lord and shook his head.
"No record of it, which is strange. All Valyrian steel weapons were accounted for, but there isn't one that fits the description of the blade intended to take your brother's life."
That was a blow. They needed to know who it belonged to, as that would be the key to finding out what Bran had saw. Both boys sat at the opposite end of the bed to eye Bran who was looking to them with a fond look, but it was clear he'd been crying. They once again eyed Luwin, silently asking for an explanation. The older man sighed deeply before looking to them with a sorrowful expression.
"Unfortunately, when Bran landed on his back, one of the bones in his spine came loose. It's an injury that cannot be repaired, nor is it something he will come back from. He's paralysed from the waist down. He'll never walk again."
Upon hearing the words, a massive wave of guilt overcame Jon. If he had ran just a little bit faster, if he had acted when he noticed something wasn't right instead of staring, he might not be facing this.
"I'd rather be dead; I don't want to be a cripple- "
"Don't you dare say that Bran. No, you won't walk again, but you'll be invaluable in the future. Until Robb has kids of his own, you're the heir to Winterfell- "
"I'd rather be dead."
The way he said it confirmed how badly he was taking this. Catelyn was clearly disturbed by the words, knowing this injury was going to change everything in the castle. He'll never walk, never climb, never run, or never ride again. It's a life she herself wouldn't want, nor is it one she would wish on anyone other than her worst enemy. All his dreams of being a Knight and being inducted into the Kingsguard thrown out the window just as he had been.
"Do you remember anything?"
Robb hoped he did, but this disappeared the moment he shook his head in the negative.
"He remembers up to the King leaving to go on the hunt, but nothing after that."
That was it then, they weren't going to get an answer to what had happened. At least, not yet. Of course, they could question people to see if they knew who the knife belonged to, but this would be risky. If they were going to do so, they needed to tread very carefully.
"Are there any records of Valyrian steel weapons being melted down and remade but some of it not being accounted for?"
Jon's question was simple, but from the surprised looks of the others, confirmed he was the only one to consider this option. The material had to come from somewhere, and all Valyrian weapons were accounted for all the way down to their weight. At the development, the Maester left to search his personal archives to see if there was any missing weight from one which matched the blade the assassin intended to slit Bran's throat with.
"Are the eggs still alive?"
At the youngest's question, all let out a short snort of laughter before realising he had no idea what had transpired. Jon leaned over towards Bran and whispered into his ear so quietly that neither Robb nor Catelyn could hear, but they could guess what he was saying. This was confirmed when his eyes widened and a huge grin took over his face.
"I'll ask if Maester Luwin can take you to my room for a bit so you can see them. They're only a little larger than kittens currently. But Bran, I can't stay in Winterfell with them."
Almost immediately, Bran's eyes began to water as he shot his mother a glare, clearly thinking she was the cause. She'd made it no secret she wanted him out of Winterfell for many years. She simply threw her hands up to confirm she had nothing to do with it. It was Robb who asked the younger to stare at Jon to see if he could figure it out himself. Swallowing away his panic at being separated with another family member, he eyed his brother and took in all his features. He was confused by his other brother's response, wondering why he suddenly had to leave. They'd been talking about hiding the dragons in the crypts or the Wolfswood not long ago. Then he looked into his eyes, his own widening. Jon's eyes were always lilac that in dim lighting appeared steel grey. Yet now, there was nothing steel grey about them. There was still that faint ring of lilac, but they had changed to a much deeper and brighter shade of purple.
"It happened when the dragons hatched. Eye colours don't magically change Bran, people will talk if they notice. We've already sent a letter to the Lord to confirm this, and a letter has been sent to Howland Reed asking if he can take me and the dragons in. It's the safest place for me to be right now. But I swear it by the old gods and the new, if any of you need any help, I'll be there. You're my family."
Pouting lightly, Bran simply nodded in acceptance. He might be young, but he does pick up on things quickly. As much as no one wanted the family to be split again, this was something that had to be done. Purple eyes are incredibly rare. Eye colours can change sometimes depending on the light, Catelyn's own sometimes appearing green rather than blue. But a permanent change was something else entirely. Clearly, something had awoken in Jon when the eggs hatched. Something that until that moment had remained dormant inside the boy, something that was now out in the open. They could potentially get away with the Ashara Dayne ruse they'd thought of for Robert arriving in case anyone noticed something off, but it would be too risky now. Especially with two living fire breathing dragons.
"A raven arrived from Kings Landing today, my Lady."
The Maester reached into one of the many pockets in his robe before handing the parchment over to her. Her eyes scanned the contents and audibly let out a sigh of relief it wasn't anything serious.
"Ned and the girls have made it safely to the capital and have apparently settled relatively well. He's barely seen the King since they arrived in the Red Keep and has been acting in his stead. He's also confirmed he will use the lemon water trick we discussed for more sensitive information."
All nodded at this, glad they had made it there safely. But they were far from safe. The capital was a hotspot for liars and people who will betray for something as silly as a piece of cloth most likely. They would have to be careful. They were expecting a response regarding the dragons, one that would probably arrive in the next couple of days. Would Ned tell the girls? He'd tell Arya considering she's been ranting and raving about them since she knew what they were. The younger was intensely loyal to her father, brother, and Jon, she they could trust. It was Sansa they worried about alongside Ned. The older did not have a lot of political training before he was thrust into being the head of House Stark, he would struggle. Then there was the younger who was desperate to please them all so she could remain betrothed to Joffrey.
"We need to come up with some excuse as to why I am leaving. The timing sits off for a fostering ruse. Fostering normally comes about from weeks of negotiation, and people will find it funny if I go there on my own. Those in the south will probably believe it as they don't care about what happens north of the Neck, but the Northerners may not."
A shaky sigh left Catelyn just as Robb gave his cousin a confused look. One understanding immediately a fault in the ruse that had been overlooked. Jon was right. There were always weeks of negotiations before a fostering was agreed on, meaning if they wanted to pass it off accurately as such, Ned would've taken him with him when he went south and met with Howland along the way. If there were a few months between the two they could've gotten away with it, but a few weeks was too suspicious looking. Especially because there are spies everywhere for other houses.
"Where will you go then?"
Robb's question broke the silence as he looked at the map on the desk, trying to think of a way around it. Jon cannot remain in Winterfell with his eyes changing colour and there being two dragons in the castle. Dragons that will grow quickly as the North is ridden deep with magic of the children and the First Men. Something they were all experiencing silently, them dreaming at night of being their wolves. Running around, feeling soil beneath paws, taking down an animal and eating the fresh kill. None of them knew what it meant, but it had to mean something.
"I'll still go there, Robb. He's undoubtedly the one person who will keep the secret safe. The Neck is overrun with forests, swamps, and caves. Places that can easily hide growing dragons without garnering second glances and curious whispers. Crannogmen keep to themselves, this won't be changed any time soon. Which means I'll need to make it look like I'm going somewhere else, somewhere no one will question, before heading to Greywater Watch.
"The Wall. Go there and spend a few days with my uncles. From there travel across to Eastwatch-by-the-sea, then get a ship from there down to the Neck. That way it'll look like I've taken the black, something a lot of 'bastards' do, people won't question that fact. With some words, I may be able to have Benjen and Aemon convince the others to play along by saying I was lost beyond the wall or something. That way I'm out of the picture to almost everyone, therefore no one will expect me."
To say the other people in the room were surprised at this response was an understatement. But as both thought into it, neither could deny there was a lot of merit to it. With Jon out of most people's minds, no one will think to look for him.
"It will need work, but the idea does seem like our best course of action currently. I'll get a raven sent to Aemon and Benjen tonight and I'll mull over anything that needs to be worked on and let you know in the morning."
Both Jon and Robb knew not to argue with Catelyn when she said a final word. With that, both left the room and walked around the keep.
"It's going to be boring without you. I'll only have Bran and Rickon to keep me company now. No one to pair up with to prank them with."
The younger let out a small laugh at these words, the situation sinking in now. Winterfell was his home even though it did not feel like it at times due to the way he was treated compared to the others. Yet now he was leaving, not knowing when he will be back or even if he will be back. Once the truth comes out, who knows what will happen. The only thing that will be for certain is that the realms will be torn apart by it, and it could only be him to put them back together.
"Are you scared?"
Jon could only nod lightly at the question, the pair soon finding themselves in the elder's room. Both walked towards the map they were both jokingly planning a conquest on the morning the dragons hatched, knowing now their plans were stupid. Some of them certainly had merit, but they couldn't force anything into action without revealing the truth. And the truth cannot come out yet, it is far too dangerous. If they do, Ned will be executed without a second glance, the girls likely would be too. Either that or kept as hostages which neither of them wants. The betrothal matches would probably be their best bet, but this lands on the assumption that the match between Sansa and Joffrey falls through. Both hoped it would, them along with Arya seeing nothing but an arrogant spoiled brat in the Prince. Sansa deserved better than that, much better than that.
"Hopefully, I don't go mad like most of my ancestors did- "
"Actually Jon, I read up on your ancestry. Not that many did go mad. A lot of people think Targaryen's were insane and that it came from centuries of incestuous practises. But if this were the case, there would be way more cases of it. Everyone thinks Aegon I was mad, but I believe he was simply ambitious. If ambition is considered madness, there would be no such thing as Houses in Westeros. Maegor was undoubtedly mad, but this could be argued as wanting to compensate for Aenys. His brother/cousin whatever they were to one another was too soft for rule. Baelor was as well, but some may also see that as someone who was too connected with their faith. Really the only two that stand out as mad were Aerion Brightflame and Aerys II. The latter was apparently a good King up until the defiance of Duskendale, whatever happened to him in those cells flipped his coin."
Jon had never thought about it like that. Now that Robb had put it out in front of him, he realised he was right. Incestuous practises went back hundreds of years before the doom, needing to keep the bloodlines pure to keep control of the dragons. There were only forty dragonlord families in Valyria, only three of which were known. Belaerys, Targaryen, and Velaryon. The latter only becoming so after the doom and multiple intermarriages between them and the Targaryen's. The others had all died out when the fourteen volcanoes that surrounded the ancient city erupted. The only parts of the Valyrian Peninsula that weren't destroyed were Montarys, Tolos, and Elyria.
"It's comforting having it put out like that, but this won't change people's perception of my House. I will need to prove myself, and I will need to thwart everyone. A task that will not be easy. No matter what we are headed for war, brother. It will come down to Baratheon and Lannister versus Stark and Targaryen. Thousands of lives will be lost, because the Lannister's and Baratheon's are not going to give up their positions easily. How am I going to outsmart them?"
Robb sighed deeply at this before thinking deeply on the matter.
"The Baratheon's will not go easily, there is a reason their house words are Ours Is the Fury. They will try to keep power. But when the truth comes out and people see Robert won the throne via a false claim, the pressure will force him to abdicate. However, in turn this will also insult the Lannister's due to his wife being Cersei and leave the throne open for the taking. Stannis is a hard man from what uncle has said, but he does seem fair, there's a chance he will do the same but it is slim. But in doing so this may also insult the Reach due to his wife. Renly may be older than us, but he is the Lord of Storm's End, he will not step down from that position easily. It's not like they don't have a claim because they do, but they're not first or even second in line. You're first, Viserys is second, Daenerys is third, Robert is fourth, Joffrey fifth, Tommen sixth, Myrcella either seventh or eighth alongside Stannis, Renly and Shireen are ninth and tenth respectfully."
The younger nodded at these words, agreeing wholly with Robb. He'd never met Stannis or Renly himself, but the others had when they were young. He had been told to stay away from everything going on in fear of embarrassing his uncle for his apparent dishonour.
"I'd best get some meat to feed Rhaegon and Lyrax. The secret is going to come out soon. I don't know how, but I can feel it. The only way we can remain on top of things is if it is us who leak the information. Give it to some reliable sources, spread word around cities like Oldtown and Lannisport. The more word there is to it, the more wariness there will be. They'll probably laugh it off though, think it simply a fantasy. Then spring it on in a surprise attack- "
"Attack?! Jon, do you mean to be the one to proclaim war?!"
Robb's startled words broke the silence in the room. The younger giving the older a panicked glare as the door was not locked, anyone could've heard that. With a quick glance outside confirmed there was no one nearby, meaning they were safe. Once the door was locked, he made his way over to the table to sit down again, covering his face with his hands and letting out a long breath.
"Robb, when this gets out, it will be all out war. There will be no other way to avoid this. The sooner we start planning, the more chance we have got to secure something. We cannot let it get out whilst uncle, Sansa, and Arya are in the capital. I will not put them to risk like that. You are the only family I have left apart from an aunt and uncle my distant cousin who just so happens to be on the throne who murdered my father and laughed at the bodies of- "
"Whoa, Jon. Calm down. What happened to your family was barbaric, there is no denying that. However, you forget that it was- "
"I don't forget, Robb. I know it was my grandfather who started it by executing Rickard, tricking Brandon into strangling himself trying to save him, and then demanded your father's head. But this wouldn't have happened if that lie wasn't spread regarding my mother and father. Either someone told Robert false information or he was the one to spread it. At this point I have no idea which one is worse. Both Stark's and Targaryen's made stupid mistakes during the rebellion, mistakes which tore my family to pieces. But I can't blame anyone for it other than Robert Baratheon. It all centres around him not being able to take no as an answer."
As much as Robb wants to pretend his family is perfect, the way Jon put it there was accurate. There was no denying it. Both sides made fatal mistakes which led to both families being torn apart. Most people only see the Stark's as being the ones who lost the most, but there was no denying it was less than the Targaryen's. Aerys killed by Jaime Lannister, Rhaella dying in childbirth with Daenerys, Rhaegar killed by Robert, Lyanna also dying of childbirth, Aegon killed by the Mountain, and Rhaenys killed by Amory Lorch. To think those two men walked free and were rewarded for their actions sickened Jon to his stomach. But both are under the protection of Tywin Lannister, he cannot depose of them without facing the older man's wrath. He does not want another incident of Castamere to play out.
"We need to whittle out the houses who were loyal to mine, Robb. Truly loyal, and not simply loyal to their ambitions. This could take weeks as there are so many houses to be considered, and even then we need to consider family members. It's not uncommon for one or more family members to deflect from their Lord or Lady and favour another ruler. That is something I will be doing whilst sheltered with Howland if he accepts the request. I think he will as he is the only person I know with certainty who knows the truth. That man has proven the most loyal bannerman in the North with what he has kept hidden."
With these words spoken, both boys walked down towards the kitchens and asked for meat scraps, saying they needed to feed the wolves. If they let even the tiniest slip out that they were not just for wolves, it would not end well. Dragons had gone extinct only a few years after the civil war between Aegon II and Rhaenyra, brother and sister who had gone to war over right of succession. That was something that could not happen again, it being the one thing that ruined a large part of the Targaryen legacy Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya worked hard on to create. The two tiny creatures waddled over to the end of the bed when they walked in, making a series of clicking and hissing noises demanding food.
Both boys took the skewers and roasted the meat scraps gently before holding them out, Rhaegon and Lyrax wasting no time in tucking in. At their feet, the wolves were doing so too, them now standing at waist height. Apparently when direwolves were fully grown, they were the size of horses, a thought that scared them. Just how vicious they could be was put on show when Summer ripped the assassin's neck open. Words that Lord Stark had said when they were on their way back to Winterfell with the litter. They weren't pets, nor were they tame. They were wild animals, and they were their responsibility.
"I wonder how big they'll get."
Jon simply shrugged at Robb's comment.
"No idea. Could be anywhere from fifty feet to over two hundred feet. They never stop growing as long as they aren't kept in captivity and are fed regularly."
Once they had finished, both waddled over to Jon as they couldn't fly yet- their bodies too disproportionate to do so. Their wings being almost twice the length of their bodies. Noises that could almost be a purr emanated from both as he tickled them under the chin before the wolves grew jealous and jumped up for their share of petting too.
"I'm going to miss you, brother. Promise you'll write?"
Jon simply grabbed his hand tightly at these words.
"I promise. I'll write as often as I can with updates, and I'll try to visit. The latter depends on whether these two will remain in the Neck because if they are seen by anyone who doesn't know, everything will be thrown out the window."
A few days later, they got the responding raven from Howland, him confirming he would be delighted to take in Jon and he was fascinated with the dragons. He confirmed he would make his way to Winterfell within the next couple of days meaning he was perhaps a week away at most. This gave them a week to prepare fully for the massive change in dynamic that is going to occur. As the time grew nearer, Rickon was becoming frantic at losing his brother and ranting over how everyone was leaving him. He had kicked, screamed, and cried to go with him or for him to stay, something which tore Jon apart. But he couldn't stay, it was far too dangerous. The only thing that calmed the boy was him saying he was not leaving forever and he was only ten days ride away at most, there could be visits from both sides. Bran was a little more subdued considering he was still getting over the idea of being crippled. With the Maester's help, they had taken him to Jon's room so he could see the dragons. With everything that was going on currently, seeing the delighted look on the younger boy's face was welcoming. He'd taken a strong liking to Lyrax after she had shoved Rhaegon out the way to get the most attention, something the silver dragon did not take kindly too as he snipped at the sapphire coloured dragon in response. It was amusing seeing their individual personalities coming to light. Lyrax being brash and bold, and Rhaegon being reserved but loyal. Robb however, had a different approach.
"Don't forget your politics lessons, Jon. I'm fed up with them and someone needs to have the brains for them when the time comes."
Jon had simply laughed and jokingly pushed Robb in response before challenging him to a spar. They hadn't done so in a while despite training hard. The older had requested Rodrik to train them separately a few weeks before so neither could pick up the others technique, trying to get a one-up on the younger. One day he was going to beat him, he was not going to take no for an answer. Even if it was only once, that was all he needed. What he didn't expect was for Jon to pick up two swords, swearing under his breath as he had forgotten Jon was learning how to use dual swords. One was a longsword which he held in his dominant hand, the other being a bastard sword in his left. But he couldn't let his hesitation show.
Robb had never sparred against someone who used dual swords before, and now he was faced with his cousin who was much more skilled in the art than he was. He himself showed a lot of promise as he was of an equal skill to Rodrik now, but he'd yet to beat the man, something Jon could do with a blindfold probably. He snickered a little as he remembered Benjen's startled look at how fast and furious his nephew was with a blade. Something he never thought he would see as Benjen was also incredibly talented. With a calculated swing with the longsword, Robb parried effortlessly but by the time he was doing so, he noticed the bastard sword coming his way, managing to move his body out of the way just in time. If they were using real weapons as opposed to tourney weapons currently, that would've been a fatal blow.
Stepping up his skill level he surprisingly found himself able to keep up with his cousin's furious blows. He was fast, there was no denying it. A style which Robb did not prefer, but one he had to model himself to if he were to hold his own against Jon. Then again, in this element he wasn't Jon. He was Jaeron Targaryen, a hidden King born of two ancient bloodlines both of which were tainted heavily with magic. Eventually, he found a weak spot by remembering he wasn't fully trained with his non dominant hand yet. With a twist of his sword which he had picked up from the younger, the bastard sword came flying from his grip. By now, he had a large grin on his face, an expression that was mirrored by the young royal in front of him. Now, they were more evenly matched, and he hoped Jon didn't pull out one of his fancy techniques he had read up on that hadn't been used for hundreds of years. Unsurprisingly, Robb was soon disarmed but he had lasted a lot longer than he usually did which was an accomplishment.
"Good bout, boys. You need to train your left hand more young Snow and work on your form with said hand, but your technique was good. Lord Stark, you spent too much time on offense and didn't spend as much time trying to find an opening. You did eventually, but I counted at least three opportunities before that one."
Both nodded at this before practising a little more. Neither were taking it seriously after the first one and Jon even took the time to show Robb some of the moves he had learned for dual fighting in case he ever needed to use them. War will come eventually, and there's no telling when or how many people will be on each side. They need to think over everything meticulously and consider all possible options whilst observing everything happening in the realm at the same time. Something that was not going to be easy, but they need to remain a step ahead constantly. Robb decided then, he was going to pay attention in his politics lessons despite hating them with a passion. Stark's didn't take much to do with such a topic outside of the North, but they would need to do so now.
Jon was right, as loathe as he was to admit it. It will eventually boil down to Stark and Targaryen versus Baratheon and Lannister. And the odds were most certainly against them unless they play it perfectly. They'll need spies, people who wouldn't be given a second glance to gather information they could possibly use. Before all that though, they will need to find out what really happened to Bran. There were a few people in the King's party who had long curly blonde hair, so there was no way to pin it on one person. They would need concrete evidence of what they assumed to be the case before they present it to others. He was going to help whittle down all families who were loyal to the Targaryen's up until Robert's rebellion.
"We should gather a spy network for information."
"And how do you propose we do that, brother?"
That he hadn't thought of yet so he simply shrugged in response before following Jon to put the training swords away.
"Will you be taking your sword with you?"
The younger nodded beside him. Both made their way now to get some food where they were met with Catelyn fussing with Rickon. The younger boy ran over to Jon and latched onto his leg and begged him not to leave again. Gently, he got down onto his knee and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Rickon, I don't want to leave, but I have to. Winterfell whilst it is my home, has never felt like home to me. I'm a man grown now and I need to find somewhere that feels like home to me. But I will write to you as often as I can, and I will visit whenever I can. That's not a statement, that's a promise. When have I ever broken a promise with you?"
His words did little to calm the little boy down but his grip did loosen lightly.
"Ned and the girls have arrived safely in the capital. We received the raven whilst you two were training. He's hired a dancing master for Arya whatever that means and Sansa has slotted right into court life. Apparently Robert has ordered there be a massive tourney to celebrate his new position."
Both Robb and Jon snorted at this, Ned despised tourneys. He thought they were nothing but a waste of time and coin. Only something created so Knights could boast about their skills by competing against as many people as possible.
"He probably won't even turn up, he hates them."
Catelyn simply nodded in response. She herself enjoyed tourneys, but she couldn't deny that she saw her husbands point with them being a waste of time and coin. One a year was all that was needed, no more than that. Invite a few competitors from each of the Kingdoms to compete. Nothing more than that. Knowing the King and Queen though, they would want it to be extravagant to show off their wealth and status.
"When is Lord Howland expected to arrive, Lady Catelyn?"
She turned to her nephew now and quirked an eyebrow up at the fact he was tearing into a bread roll with his teeth instead of picking bits off like what was expected of someone of high rank. He would need etiquette training alongside political training. He'd also need to be trained on court mannerisms. Hence why she had written up a list of things to teach him that she was intending to give to the Lord. Jon simply blushed before tearing off pieces with his fingers and dunking it into his soup whilst Robb was desperately trying to stifle a laugh at the encounter.
"He should arrive in around five or six days at the latest. It's only a maximum of ten days to ride from the Neck to Winterfell and this is due to the marshes and swamps that make up the area. But he'll be accustomed to them, I'd assume it will take him around eight days to get here. Have you started packing yet?"
The younger nodded at these words. He didn't have much belongings to begin with so it didn't take him long to do so. It was the dragons he was worried about, how he was going to hide them on the journey down. He doesn't want to cage them up or shove them in a box, but he cannot have them out in the open either. Once he was finished with his food, he stood up to leave only to be handed something from Catelyn. He frowned before looking down to see a key which was encrusted with rubies and some other stone he couldn't place.
"Ned told me where to find this, apparently only Howland has a spare. He said there is something waiting for you in the tomb. I have no idea what, he just had it on the letter."
He nodded at her words before making his way outside, Robb hot on his heels. Since he was told, Jon had never plucked up the courage to go down into the crypts. He didn't want to come face to face with the statue of his mother. But now he knew he needed to, and Robb was going to support him. The older guided him through the plethora of tunnels that made up the crypts of Winterfell, him knowing the way to where Brandon, Rickard, and Lyanna were buried. Why had Ned not given him whatever this was when he told him? What was he about to be faced with? They were near the end and Jon noticed a few other empty slots beside them.
"That's where we'll all be buried when we die. Father beside his siblings, and our siblings after this. Jaeron, this one is your mother."
Jon gave Robb an odd look at the use of his actual name. He'd only ever used it teasingly after finding out, so him using it in such a serious setting was something else. The older handed the torch to Jon as he hesitantly walked over to stand directly in front of his mothers tomb. She was short, that was the first thing that came to his mind. He was a few inches taller than her, and she looked a lot like Arya. Ned always said his youngest daughter reminded him of his own sister on numerous occasions. From the letters sent between his parents, he knew she had very dark hair and steel grey eyes that was common with Stark's. Her face was long but it was also angular, and he spotted a bunch of carved roses at her feet.
"I wish I knew you, and I wish you knew me. But I know now, uncle kept his promise to you mother. He protected me, and he told me on my sixteenth name-day just like you asked. I don't blame you for what happened, it wasn't your fault. You and father both tried to get correspondence out but this was never received or was ignored. Arya looks like you a lot, from what uncle has said you were a lot like her in personality. I'm sorry you never got to meet your nephews and nieces, and I'm sorry that the man you broke a betrothal with started the war and killed father. But I'm still alive, I'll avenge you both. Alongside Elia, Aegon, and Rhaenys."
Tears were building up in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Instead he looked around for wherever this key went. He found it near the bottom of her feet and with a start realised the roses carved there were done separately. Clearly done to hide whatever was here. Once the hatch was opened though, he was met with a small box. Carefully, he lifted it out and blew the dirt off it that's come with being buried for so many years. It was black and red, the colours of his house. The clasp enclosing it had three snarling dragons on it and the outside was marked to look like scales. When he opened it, the gasp that escaped his lips was heard by Robb a few metres away.
"What is it, Jon?"
The younger blinked a few times before placing it down on the ground and picking up what was inside of it. A crown, but not just any crown. One made of Valyrian steel and was encrusted with numerous rubies.
"It's a crown, Robb."
The older boy's eyes widened at this as he walked over to join him, but unlike his brother he recognised the item immediately.
"Jon, do you know what this is?"
He gave him a confused look to confirm he did not know, only that it was a crown.
"Brother, this is the crown of Aegon the conqueror. It's been lost for decades, everyone assumed it had been melted down and forged into a weapon."