Robb Stark
Winterfell, 300AC
It was a horrible thought, the one where he would soon be leaving Winterfell. He'd travelled to other places in the North a few times with his father when he was little, but this time it was decidedly different because this time, he might not be coming back to these walls. May not be able to climb the trees, walk through the ancient corridors, swim in the hot springs below the castle. Things he had taken for granted but now that he was preparing to leave and with a decently sized army at his back to both free his father and to support his brother in his claim for the throne. It had now been more than a month since his mother had come back along with her uncle, and it seemed the man didn't want to leave yet.
Robb had asked him about this, trying to get to know the man he had heard people speak highly of on numerous occasions. Hardly anyone had anything bad to say about the Blackfish. Whether that be his prowess, mannerisms, or loyalty, all had gleaming results no matter who he asked. At first, he had assumed it to simply be a bias, but he was beginning to realise now that he had gotten to know him a little better that this was not the case. The Knight had sat down with him and explained in detail why he had yet to leave Winterfell to return to the Vale. His reasoning lying heavily with his House's words.
Family. Duty. Honour.
His mother had told him the reasoning her House chose to fight for the rebels, her confirming Jaeron had figured this out too when she had first went to Greywater Watch to speak to him for the first time since he had left the walls. Gods, had that been more than a year ago already? It felt like only a few days had passed with the amount that had been happening within. Ser Brynden explaining that whilst he was Lysa's sworn sword, his words bound him to protect family. And with much of his family now heading into war, this vow took precedence over the other.
He blinked as these words disappeared like the way a snowflake melts once it came into contact with bare skin. His childhood room almost stripped with how much he had packed up. Numerous weapons, a few changes of clothes, some miscellaneous items that would remind him of home. Was this how Jon had felt when he left so long ago? There was a difference between them though. If Rhaegon and Lyrax had not hatched that fateful day, there was a chance he never would've left in the first place. But they had, and they knew they would not be able to keep dragons hidden in Winterfell with the amount of visitors who come into the halls and explore the ancient keep that had stood for eight thousand years if the stories were true.
When would be the next time he would sleep in a featherbed again? When would he next see Bran and Rickon again? He didn't want to leave them behind, but it was drummed in to them from a young age that there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. With Sansa and Arya gods know where, his father in a black cell, and him being at the head of an army meant there was no choice in the matter. At least Bran was happy now. When his mother handed him the parchment with the drawings over to him, he had been sceptical to say the least. Yet they had given it to Mikken and to the Stablemaster who worked together and followed the design as best they could. With a couple of tweaks, Bran's legs were secured to his pony and ensured he couldn't fall off and now trainers were working on getting a yearling to have it adapt solely to arm movements and voice.
To see the way his eyes lit up when Hodor had carried him out to see it, and the loud laugh that left him when he snapped the reins to gallop, every worry had disappeared from him. Even his mother hadn't reprimanded him for being so reckless as to gallop in circles in Winterfell's courtyard. But a few words echoed around when he had done so, quiet shushes of Lyanna doing the same. He'd heard from his father she was jokingly referred to as a centaur because she apparently seemed to have been born atop a horse, but it was strange. No one ever dared to speak Lyanna's name when his father was here, his sisters death clearly still affecting him badly.
"My Lord, a couple of ravens arrived. And the scouts have spotted riders a few hours away. They were unable to identify the sigils from the distance though but it is safe to assume the first remnants of the army are arriving soon."
When had Maester Luwin entered the room? There was no time to think on this as he reached over and took the two raven scrolls there was. The roaring red three-headed dragon not even affecting him anymore. He had yet to receive a response from his brother regarding the army, and his heart was pounding inside his chest as he cracked the seal to begin reading the letter.
Brother.
I wish I was writing to you with good tidings but unfortunately, there is something you need to know.
As you're already aware, Ser Alliser Thorne sent a message to an ally in Pentos named Torghen to train me in using dual swords- this was done prior to Howland telling me about Ser Arthur. I trusted the man, and those surrounding me did too. Even your mother did. When your mother came to see me on her way to speak to Varys, she confirmed he had been loyal to my House and was even in exile for refusing to bend the knee to Robert. He left with her but broke off midway to head for Claw Isle to speak to Lord Ardrian Celtigar to try and recruit said House.
I'm not certain if the Lady has confirmed what I've been doing exactly, but I've built up a small ring of spies. I won't confirm how I'm getting my information yet but I know it is reliable. One reported back to me that Torghen had been spotted in Kings Landing. At first, I assumed it to have been another plan on the side like your mother done when she heard of her sister seizing Tyrion. This was not the case. He was spotted collecting a pardon from Joffrey Waters for spying on my House.
Robb's eyes were reading the words frantically, being able to see the turmoil his brother was in. Whilst a betrayal was expected at some point because House Targaryen did hold a sour taste for many, they had not expected for it to happen before the claim had officially been made. But then his eyes widened, panic beginning to seep in. Sansa had been smuggled out by someone of that name, and his mother had confirmed said person said they were loyal to the Targaryen cause. Please no. His eyes snapped up to face the Maester who was looking to him worriedly and Robb wasted no time.
"Send for my mother, now."
The words came out harsh and probably rather rude, but right now he didn't care about that. Fuck, this was not good. Not good at all. Quickly reading the remainder of the letter as he waited. There wasn't much else there though other than he had sent his spies to find Sansa and Torghen, and he already knew the man had correspondence with someone in Lannisport. Who in Lannisport, he had no idea, but it was something at least. If only said city's population wasn't a quarter of what the North is as a whole. He spotted his mother's hair before he had noticed both she and the Maester had walked back into the room, her face contorting in on itself as she spotted the worried look on his face.
"Jon's been betrayed."
Said statement had the desired effect as Catelyn reached over to take the raven herself, eyes comically wide. Luwin was gnawing on his fingernails- a habit which his mother normally scolded. Especially because Arya had picked it up from him and it had taken months to get her to break the habit.
"This doesn't add up-"
"Whoever this Torghen Hill is has Sansa and he's turned on Jon mother-"
She raised her hand a little as she looked to her eldest, fingers shaking at the words.
"If you'd let me finish, Robb. It's not this that doesn't make sense, it's that someone who was exiled for refusing to turn on the Targaryen's has done so. This combined with the fact he's a wanted man. How could he be in Kings Landing and not have had his head removed immediately?"
Luwin walked over so he could read over the Lady's shoulder to see the words that were on there too, and now the youngers eyebrows were creasing. That was a habit he got from his father, constantly jumping to conclusions. He was getting better at managing it because when it does kick off he will need to keep a level head at all times otherwise their intricate steps will be unravelled.
"So you think someone smuggled him in?"
"It's not that I think that; it's the only reason that makes sense. Either that or someone turned him in and the only place he was beforehand was Claw Isle. I watched him get on that ship myself to head there so I know he arrived there."
Now, Robb's mouth was beginning to get dry. If this theory were correct, it was one less ally their way. Whilst they had many already even if their allies were unaware yet, it was still a massive blow. Especially one so close to the capital.
"You think Lord Ardrian turned him over? Wait, but he was apparently spying on Daenerys and Viserys-"
"Which doesn't add in for someone who supports them. Plus, he couldn't have gotten reports on Daenerys as she is gods know where. Last thing we heard about her is she's somewhere in the Dothraki Sea. And if he was offered a pardon for spying, why did he not turn Jaeron in?"
At the last part, Robb froze again, finally understanding his mother's confusion on the matter. It didn't add up, not wholly at least. There are numerous possibilities to it all. Either Torghen was lying all along, had changed his mind midway through it all, was lying to the opposite side to make theirs better, or he had an ulterior motive. He hadn't met the man before so he couldn't go off that, but his mother seemed to know him. Out of anyone, she would be best bet to work out what is happening.
"You said he has spies? How does he know their information is reliable-"
"They're all wargs. He's got them placed at all the major Keeps and providing reports frequently."
Wargs? He thought that was a myth. Remembering the time where he had received a raven asking him if he had ever dreamt he was Grey Wind. He had, but it had been a long time since it had last happened and he had woken up with the taste of blood and flesh in his mouth.
"Isn't warging only a myth, my Lady?"
"I thought so, Maester. But that's not the case. It's quite an unnerving sight to see people with their eyes completely rolled back and unresponsive. Jaeron is one, he can warg Ghost on command. According to Howland it took months for him to master it."
What? Jon was a warg? Could do it on command? What else was he not being told? If there was one thing Robb despised with a passion it was not being told everything that was happening. Simply being left to the side until it had all collapsed in on itself where he realised he had simply been played along.
"Where could he be taking-"
"Rider ahead!"
His head snapped around at this, nodding towards the other two occupants as he made his way into the courtyard to greet whoever it was that arrived. He couldn't see the sigil still as snow was falling heavily and he could barely make out the bricks of the walls of the castle. His breath coming out in large clouds it was that cold but he was used to it. Feeling the frost eating away at his exposed cheeks as he fought to keep his face and posture as still as possible so that his inner thoughts weren't betrayed. As they got closer, he realised it was a singular rider, confirming it wasn't any of their men yet. This meaning it could only be one person, and the timing couldn't have been better in trying to work out what has happened recently. As they got closer, it became obvious his assumption was correct as long silver locks with the front tied back to keep it from his face came into view. Even from afar, he could see the slight similarities between him and Jon. Whether that was from shared blood or they were Valyrian features, he didn't know yet.
"Aurane, we have been expecting yourself. Please help yourself to some salt and bread. Hodor will take your horse."
It was strange to simply call someone by their name in a formal setting, but that was probably the nicest one he could given his stature. Whilst Robb didn't fully understand the stigma surrounding bastards, they were still looked down on by many. The giant of a man walked over to take the dark grey horse from him which if he wasn't seeing things in the light appeared to have lilac flakes in its coat. Something he hadn't seen for a long time as Jon's eyes used to switch between the two. Well, until the dragons hatched that is, remembering how shocked he was when he noticed how bright they had turned. Aurane had the same bright purple eyes, almost glowing against his pale complexion and his hair almost blending in with the snow surrounding them. Like requested, the man took a small piece of freshly baked bread, dipped it in salt, before tearing off a small piece as custom declared.
As they walked inside, it became clear there were numerous eyes on them. One in particular burning deep into the back of his skull from his uncle. His mother had confirmed to him that Jon was in fact his cousin and not his bastard half-brother like most believed to be the case, but he had been told he was Brandon's child with Ashara. Robb remembered that talk, when they were discussing ways around if Robert Baratheon recognised anything in him that reminded him of Rhaegar. At least they didn't need to worry about that anymore as the Stag King was dead and the Lannister bastard was sat atop the throne believing himself to be a Baratheon. He was not looking forward to the upheaval that reveal would cause in the slightest, it was a known thing to not insult Tywin Lannister regarding his family's legacy. By now, the man had been led into the Lord's solar and once the door was closed, all barriers dropped. On the outside, they were simply finalising a trade deal. But on the inside, this man was one of their largest allies alongside his brother in the war that is only one incident away from happening. Westeros had been at peace for nearing eighteen years now, and everyone is on the precipice of a fight.
"My Lady, a raven was sent to me on my journey from Ser Arthur."
Robb's eyebrows quirked at this as the parchment was handed over to Catelyn to read. Fully expecting for there to be a familiar seal but instead seeing a pale white one with a sword and star on it. The sigil of House Dayne. It was the first time he had saw it himself, and it made him feel strange. Just thinking someone that important whom everyone believed to have been dead wasn't, once again realising just how many individual games there are going on. He'd grown up on stories of Arthur Dayne, and before Bran fell from that tower, he used to say he was going to be the next Sword of the Morning.
"Please help yourself to any food or drink, Aurane. Although, I must say us Northerner's don't have much of a taste for wine-"
"I'm fully aware, my Lord. Your cousin has already grilled me on everything. I've never had much of a taste for it myself anyway, that would be my brother."
Aurane reached over for some black ale and pouring himself a generous amount before taking a long gulp. Probably extremely thirsty from the journey. Whilst it wasn't a long one, Northern terrain was tricky at the best of times, and this man was a southerner.
"What does it say, mother?"
Catelyn snapped her head up to look at her son now, pursing her lips tightly as she carefully thought.
"Ser Arthur wants to induct my uncle into office, and Jaeron would like it to be the case too-"
"So he wants us to bring him fully into the fold then?"
Out the corner of his eye, he spotted the Valyrian's eyes widen slightly. Was he aware of what had happened? If the timing was right, then he probably would've left before Jaeron found out of the betrayal. But was he sent a raven along the way to explain too?
"We've just told him that he's Brandon's child to Ashara, if we tell him that he's Lyanna and Rhaegar's, that may pose a problem."
"Not necessarily, Robb. It's a good idea actually, because it further binds my House to the cause which makes it harder for my father to refuse the call when it happens. Which grants us more men to our side in the long run. Two alliances running side by side. We could put it as I was told he was Brandon's and I believed this to be the case but you found the documents in my absence confirming this wasn't."
How did she think of things so quickly? It was a skill he wished he had, and it was one he wished could be learned quickly. Whilst he didn't care much on southern politics, he wished he had when he was younger now and had taken said lesson from Maester Luwin when it was offered to him. Whilst there were many subjects which were compulsory, a small handful were not. Languages being one, southern politics another, and simple trades being a third he could think of off the top of his head. Only one of which he had taken but he wasn't a master at it by any means.
"Gōntan ao jiōragon iā tȳne vōljes rȳ mirre, Aurane?" (Did you receive a second raven, Aurane?)
He watched as his face showed surprise for a moment that he knew the language somewhat decently. Replying back quickly to the question, ignoring the questioning look of his mother as she was never taught it.
"Daor, nyke gōntan daor, ñuha āeksio. Ēza mirros massitas?" (No, I did not, my Lord. Has something happened?)
Now, his gut was gnawing away within him as he remembered exactly what had happened. How was he going to take this? How does someone tell another that a shared family member had been betrayed before it had happened?
"Jaeron jittan īlva iā vōljes naejot ivestragon īlva se udir. Ēza issare ivestragī ilagon. Torghen pālegīon hen mele se zōbrie." (Jaeron sent us a raven to tell us the news. He has been let down. Torghen turned from red and black.)
The words had the desired effect on the man as his face went paler than usual before his cheeks tinted a deep pink in anger, stepping back a couple of metres and pinching his nose hard, knuckles pressing against his eye sockets as he processed this.
"Care to translate please, Robb?"
He bit his lips at this before turning from the other male to face his mother.
"Jaeron found out about the betrayal after he had left, I was simply filling him in on the advancement."
She nodded at this, still reeling with the news herself. They had been wholly expecting some kind of a betrayal because what they are going to do is not going to be taken kindly by many people.
"I'll get a raven sent to my brother to speak to Lord Ardrian, find out what happened here. But it may take time because Stannis has already made many steps to get the Crownland's under his control. He's also got the Florent's through his wife. We'll need to move quickly-"
"Jaeron has sent communication to Prince Doran to toy with the idea of a betrothal between he and Arianne. Nothing is certain though because according to his updates of when he came back from Dorne, she was visiting her mother in Norvos and I'd imagine she would want a say on this. She needs to be brought into the matter."
The other two people in the room nodded, confirming they were already aware of this.
"Aurane, did Torghen ever give any clause of turning cloaks?"
"None at all, my Lady. He accepted eighteen years of exile instead of turning his cloak, so it doesn't make a huge amount of sense to me I've got to say. I only met the man a few times because I did need to remain in the background due to my stature but my brother got along with him well and praised him openly. Especially because he was one of only three people who could hold up a fight against Ser Arthur. Well, in a one on one scenario."
The younger winced a little at this, understanding immediately what he was hinting at with his words. And from the way his mother closed her eyes for a moment was anything to go by, she understood the hidden meaning too. His father and Lord Howland had defeated Ser Arthur, even if only one walked away knowing the man had survived and was just grievously injured.
"We need to move quickly, get as many allies as possible. The Northern Lord's will be here later today and others arriving in the next day or two. We have a few hours to make a final plan-"
"I've worked out betrothal offers already, mother. I done so whilst you were away. I haven't sent any correspondence yet regarding them as I wanted your opinion on them beforehand."
With that, he reached into one of the pockets on his fur cloak and slid it over to her, watching her read it fully and nodding a little, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.
"Margaery and Arianne are good bets, and both come from House's who despise the Lannister's. One due to what happened in the rebellion and the other because they are constantly trying to tear them down by making them look weak because the lions are richer. We can't exactly wait on getting a response from Doran yet as for all we know, Arianne could remain in Norvos for a long time. We'll toy with a betrothal with her for yourself Robb first, but we won't accept anything yet. Sansa and Trystane, that would be a good one too in case Doran doesn't agree, ties the Dorne to the North. Plus, it does mean two principalities conjoining which would probably be quite desirable to Doran."
This had been his thought process too on the matter, glad he had picked up at least some of her political knowledge regarding the south.
"May I suggest one, Prince Robb?"
Gods, that sounded strange. But whether he likes it or not, that is what he is due to that damned pact. The very reason Aurane was here. Whilst they were playing with the story of him coming here to finalise a deal, they all knew he was a hostage to them just as Theon was now a hostage to his brother. Robb hadn't thought about Theon for a while, and it was a weird realisation for him to notice that he didn't miss him. It was oddly calm around without him there boasting about his next 'conquest' as he liked to call it. In other words, how he was going to bed the next female he met. It was a miracle Winterfell and Wintertown weren't overrun with Pyke's due to his obvious proclivities.
"You may. Any suggestion is welcome in these matters."
By now, his face had returned to his normal pale shade, and that he had taken out the hair tie he was using to pin back the front of his hair to let it flow around his whole face. Was this what Rhaegar had looked like? That was something he would never know because he had been killed when he was still in his mother's womb in Riverrun. Anything in relation to the Targaryen's was banned when Robert ascended meaning there were no portraits or drawings around. All he had was word of mouth on the matter and nothing else. His mother said Jon looked a lot like him, but it was difficult to picture the slightly younger with silver hair.
"Brandon and Meera. Aye, there is a bit of an age difference between them with she being eighteen and he being eleven I believe? But it further ties the North together. Plus, it can be a reward for him keeping the secret for as long as he has."
That was one he hadn't even considered. Had put it to the back of his mind that it was unlikely they would be able to betroth Bran due to him being crippled and had focused on Rickon who had only turned seven a few months prior.
"And you've jotted down Rickon as being betrothed to either Alys Karstark or one of the Mormont daughters. This is definitely decent, but what about Arya?"
Robb remained quiet for a few seconds before snorting aloud, his mother giving him an unimpressed look at this response.
"I highly doubt we'll get Arya betrothed any time soon, she'd just run away. And she is Jon's favourite, he won't force her into anything she doesn't want."
It was a sore spot for his mother. Many Lord's and Ladies groom their children with the belief of once they come of age, they will marry for the good of their House. It went against everything she was ever taught and had tried to instil in them all. He wasn't fond of the idea himself, but he would do it as it was his duty.
"I'll get a raven sent to Howland to see if he and Jyana agree to the match, and I'll draft one for Highgarden too. But that one will need to be worded solely as talks because if Arianne refuses, Jaeron's most logical match is Margaery. If it's official between us, Lord Mace may take it as a slight-"
"He'll definitely take it as a slight. We typically keep to ourselves on Driftmark, but even we're aware of his desire to have his golden rose as Queen. It wouldn't surprise me if he tries to push her into wedding the Lannister bastard currently playing King."
Now, Robb pinched his nose tightly, understanding the truth in those words.
"In other words we can pretty much say goodbye to the Reach. At least, for the time being."
No one said a thing on this, all coming to the same conclusion. That was a blow, a major one. The Reach has much of the food stores of Westeros and without them on their side, it makes things tight at best. And with there being no way to say how long this war was going to last, they couldn't do an accurate account. Wars cost money too, an exceptional amount from people getting as many troops as they possibly could. Whilst numbers didn't always win battles, something that was in recorded history when a huge force of Dothraki stood against a couple of thousand Unsullied and the Unsullied were the ones who walked away victorious, it certainly helped. That had been one of Bran's favourites, second only to scary stories regarding the Long Night and the Age of Heroes.
"I'll send for my uncle just now. Robb; quickly write up a letter and try to copy your father's signature. My uncle doesn't know Ned's writing so we don't need to worry about that."
He nodded to her as she left the room, saying she would have someone else come to take Aurane to the guest quarters. None of them spoke at this, both shocked this was happening. But it got awkward quickly, and he decided to start a conversation with the man.
"Has he mounted either of them yet?"
Aurane turned to look at him for a second before looking elsewhere, probably taking in the ancient architecture that Winterfell was. Compared to other castles in Westeros, Driftmark was relatively new being only a few hundred years old.
"Nay, he has not. Whilst in length both of them could easily fill Winterfell's courtyard with ease, their wings aren't fully formed yet so probably wouldn't be able to handle excess weight. Not much was kept on our side regarding dragons either considering mine own family were not original riders. We only became so after multiple intermarriages and blood mixing until we had enough of it to do so. There is a reason why us of Valyrian descent practised incest as much as we did. A lot of us didn't like it, but duty is duty, and it would've been dangerous to have dragons roaming who couldn't bond as the blood was weak."
Now that was news to him, remembering to tell Maester Luwin this so he could add it to his notes for future reference. Whilst the man was knowledgeable on said creatures, he didn't know everything about them.
"Do you think either you, your brother, or your nephew could bond with Lyrax?"
The answer to that question was instantaneous.
"Definitely not. Velaryon blood is too diluted now. Whilst we would be able to get close and probably expect no harm, there is no way we would be able to actually mount one. Anyway, Lyrax has already found a bond but it won't be fulfilled. Lord Howland and Jaeron confirmed that she grew attached to Maester Aemon when they were at the Wall. As you'll know though, the man is past his one hundredth name-day. It wouldn't be viable for him."
At that moment, the door opened again, only realising that during that small conversation, he had written the letter. Quickly putting it on the desk itself as his mother walked in with one of the servants in tow.
"Jonquil here will take you to your room Aurane, your personal items have already been brought up and we will give you a quick tour before everyone arrives."
He bowed his head formally before following her out of the room, looking around for sight of Brynden.
"He's on his way just now, Robb. He was helping Ser Rodrik with the weapons."
There were times where he hated her ability to seemingly read minds, this being one of them. It was something he wished he had, but he didn't want to ask her now as he was a man grown and in a matter of hours he was going to be leading an army. Nerves bubbling up inside of him at this, only being broken out of it as he felt Grey Wind playfully nip at his legs. When had he arrived? He hadn't even seen the wolf come into the room. Leaning down to scratch him behind the ears as he tilted his head up to accept the petting.
"I think we should tell him the whole truth mother and not just from this forgery."
Catelyn opened her mouth about to protest but he raised his hand slightly.
"Like you said, we need allies soon. The sooner your own House is tied to our side the better, and Jaeron wanting him in the white cloak is definitely going to help do so. And what if he found out we were lying to him regarding it? That puts a wedge between us all which we don't need. What if we were to put it as close to the truth as we can, that father silenced us all to secrecy on the matter?"
Slowly, her mouth closed as she mulled it over, clearly seeing there was merit to his analysis with that statement. Glancing out the window now and over the hills a few miles away, he could see hundreds of horses heading towards Winterfell, confirming part of the army would be here very soon.
"And we could put it as father sent us a raven confirming he plans to out Jaeron like we've already deduced is the most likely path he is going to take. Which is the truth considering he did send us a raven pretty much saying so, and now with him getting Jeor in on it, the pieces are there to spin it as such."
Her eyebrows creased at this as she thought it all over, humming a little as the idea fizzled inside her head.
"That would definitely work. Whilst it will drive a wedge, it won't be as big as the one that would happen if we went with my original idea. Burn that letter, Robb."
The ink hadn't even dried on it yet before he scrunched it up and promptly threw it into the fireplace. Watching as the pale yellow of the parchment caught fire and slowly turned a mixture of black and brown within the flames. It only took a minute or so for it to disappear, quickly wiping away the blue-black stain on the underside of his palm. When Ser Brynden walked in to the room, his gut felt like it was eating him alive. How had his father kept it a secret for so long? Was this how he had felt every time he looked at Jon? He must've had this horrid foreboding that one day he was going to have to tell, his father was someone who didn't break oaths unless he had no choice but to do so, and even then he would go down every potential avenue before deciding to do so.
"Uncle, please sit. Both my mother and I have something to tell you. But you must swear that what is said in this room is not to leave said room without explicit permission from myself, my mother, or who this involves."
Brynden was confused at the words, but he sat down and leaned back, nodding his head dutifully in confirmation. That was all that was needed to calm him down.
"My mother told me she made you aware of a specific truth on your journey here regarding my brother?"
For a moment, his body seized at the small insult before remembering he wasn't the stain he had believed him to be.
"Aye, he did. That he's Brandon's and Ashara's-"
"He's not, uncle. That was a ruse we came up with to hide the truth. My husband has us all sworn to secrecy, but he sent communication to Robb that there is no need to keep it so as it's going to come out soon."
Brynden turned to his niece in shock now, wondering why she had told him such a blatant lie. Before he could speak though, he confirmed what was really happening.
"He's also not lost beyond the Wall, that was also a ruse after something incredible happened that was too dangerous if he remained. He's been fostering under Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch for a little more than a year now. Jon Snow has never existed, Ser. My father ironically may be the best liar in the entirety of Westeros when it comes to family. Jon isn't the son of Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne, he's the legitimate son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen and his name is Jaeron Targaryen. He's the heir to the Iron Throne."
The words felt heavy to him, and his heart was beating so quick he was surprised it hadn't broken out of his chest and was dancing around the table currently. Body hunched slightly over as he waited on the reaction. Brynden slid his chair back and stood up in anger, pure insult covering his face.
"He's a bastard, trying to usurp something that isn't his-"
"It's true uncle, I've seen the documentation for myself. As has Robb, as has Jaeron, alongside Sansa and Arya and even Bran. Rickon is too young to know what is happening though. There were dozens of letters that were retrieved when Ned found Lyanna dying in that damned tower. On those letters it states quite explicitly Elia and Rhaegar had secretly annulled their marriage prior to that tourney and that she went willingly with him after fighting with Rickard as he refused to break the betrothal with Robert even though he was quite openly dishonouring her if you're remembering correctly."
If the situation weren't as serious as it was, Robb would've laughed at his mother's statement there. But right now, laughing was the last thing needed.
"But there were witnesses she was taken-"
"Witnesses that she was taken, or she went with them? It could've been a simple misunderstanding. But it's the truth. If he were here, I'd guarantee you would've figured it out. You remember what Rhaegar looked like, don't you?"
Where was she going with this? Catelyn pulling out what appeared to be a sketch he hadn't seen before. Leaning over to look at it himself. It was one of them when they were really young, possibly before Arya was even born. Sansa asleep on a couch, him at the front with his father and mother, but in the back was obviously Jon.
"When was this done?"
"A long time ago, Robb. You were both only around four name-days I believe."
The elder male took the sketch to scan it in detail, finger trailing around his face.
"Gods, he does look like him. Just-"
"With his mother's long face and her black hair. Everything else is Rhaegar through and through."
He'd heard it said often now that he looked a lot like his sire, but for someone who had known the man and had probably met him a few times and spoken to him said times too.
"I'm guessing he's pressing on the claim? Hence all this secrecy and inner plots?"
"Partially uncle. But the reason he left Winterfell was not because of that, it's because something happened, something impossible. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it myself."
He was confused by this, clearly still trying to come to terms with all of this.
"Jaeron successfully hatched dragon eggs, uncle. He done so just shy of a year ago and they're almost large enough for him to mount. One is silver, the other is blue. It happened during the assassination attempt on Bran. We don't know if it's something in his blood or if it's something else, but he's completely immune to fire. When that tower went ablaze, he had the sudden urge to go in there with the eggs. He was in there for hours, and he walked out of it with two tiny dragons on his shoulders. He aptly named them Rhaegon and Lyrax for his parents."
At these words, the famous Blackfish seemed to freeze in shock, looking back and forth between the two of them for a hint of a lie but when he found none, he stood up and began rubbing his face. Something he did himself when he didn't believe something.
"Why am I being made aware of this?"
"Because Ser Arthur Dayne is his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and he wants to induct you, uncle."
If he wasn't shocked before, he certainly was now. Dropping into the seat and letting out a long breath as it all came crashing down on him. Robb was surprised he was taking it as well as he was. Remembering how he had reacted when his father had pulled them all to the side to tell them the truth. The knocking on the door broke the silence as Maester Luwin walked in, eyeing the Knight oddly but he simply mouthed they had told him the truth and of the new advancements.
"My Lord, Galbart Glover and Gregor Forrester have arrived. Roose Bolton, Rickard Karstark, and Clan Flint have been spotted on the horizon and should be here within the hour."