Jon

"Arya," Jon called out as he knocked on the wooden door. "Can I come in?" He tucked the present securely under his armpit.

"Yes."

Jon moved into the room to see Arya packing her clothing and to his delight, she was huffing and puffing as she shoved her way through the task while wearing a slight scowl. Nymeria sat near the bed with her big frame moving as she snoozed.

Arya paused and glanced at him. "After a couple of days I have to fold it again, mother said it wasn't 'properly folded' why should I bother?" She said in annoyance.

Jon smiled and closed the door, knowing that his cousin was eyeing the object in his arms. She should, it was for her after all.

"Do what your mother says, Arya," Jon said.

"Like you ever do what she says," Arya replied, still eyeing his arm.

"Lady Stark is your mother, not mine," Jon said easily. Gone was the timid boy that ducked under Lady Starks cold gaze, in his place was a more bold and confident Jon. Never again was he taking the blame for what somebody else did, never again was he shivering in her presence. It was over.

Oddly, Lady stark seemed indifferent in regards to him, Jon noticed it a while ago and was puzzled.

"Are you coming with us to the tourney?" Arya responded with her eyes glued on the present.

Jon sighed. "Yes little sister, for the thousandth time I am going." When word of that there was going to be a large gathering at Harrenhall, Jon cannot waste the opportunity to see his father's side of the family.

Jon knew he was taking a risk, and so did Ned when he told the Starks that he was going with. Robb didn't say anything to this and just acted like everything was normal. Jon knew he has to be extra cautious to hide his identity and he also knew this was going to be a pain in the asshole as everybody always stopped him to question him. And the south is going to be even worse. And don't forget that there is a huge search party for the rider and Cannibal.

This is going to be a huge risk. Jon knows this with all his heart. He just wanted to see his Targaryen family…at least once.

Jon hid his grin as Arya asked more irreverent questions. This was all a ruse for Jon to finally reveal what he was holding, Arya has too much pride to ask herself.

Arya played a game of tug in her mind before giving in. "Damn, just tell me what that is!"

Jon walked over to the bed and pushed a bundle of clothes to the side as he placed the present down. "You shouldn't be cursing like that young lady, what would your mother think?" Jon said dryly.

"Shut up, Jon," Arya snapped as she came to his side. "Mother is not here now."

Jon chuckled as he opened it with a dramatic show as he slowly unwrapped it.

Arya pushed him away and gasped as she held a dagger in her hand. She rotated the dagger, seeing the artwork on the hilt.

"What is this?" Arya whispered in awe.

Jon grinned and raised his head. "The very best there is. Its valyrian steel."

"How did you get Valyrian steel? And where?"

"A man doesn't tell his secrets," Jon said smugly.

"Fine." Arya spread her arms and walked to him.

"Careful!" Jon warned as the dagger was too close to his body for comfort. Arya nodded, putting the dagger on her bed and springing in his arms.

"Thank you," Arya said as she hugged his neck a bit tighter.

"No problem."

"I won't let those southerners bother you, Jon. I will stick them with the pointy end with this and needle!"

"Ok, you go do that," Jon said as he patted her back. "I will be there beside you."

…

"Father isn't coming," Robb said as the feast carried on. All the lords and ladies of the north assembled in Winterfell before making the journey south. Ned thought it was a good idea to have a feast then march on the morrow.

Arya, Bran, and Rickon sat at the high table with Sansa talking excitingly to a woman with braided long hair. Ned and Catelyn sat farther up with Lord Umber and Jon can hear the man's booming voice as he shared laughs with Ned.

"He is not?"

"There must always be a stark in Winterfell he says," Robb said. "I told him that I could've stayed here in his stead but he refused."

Jon idly picked his food with his fork, a dozen explanations running through his mind. "Huh."

"Do you know what this means?" Robb asked seriously. "The royal family might see this as a slight."

"What would they do? Go to war with the north just because the warden decides not to come to a tourney? That's childish."

"You should convince him otherwise, it will be suspicious if he doesn't show up," Robb replied.

Jon glanced at him with disbelief. "He didn't show up to kingslanding when the rebellion ended, how is this any different?"

"Because the war just ended at that time, Jon," Robb countered. "There hasn't been any fighting for years."

Jon was not going down. "He didn't show up because of me. And he is not going to the tourney now because of me."

"Your father should stay. What if he was caught with this lie? That's something he doesn't want to happen and that's what you don't want to happen," Jon added.

Robb sighed. "Ok, you have a point."

"I always do."

There were two pairs of skinny arms around his torso as Arya hugged him from behind. She sat down next to Jon and looked curiously between the two men. "What are ya'll talking about?"

"Nothing," Robb quickly said as he excused himself before heading to the Karstarks table where his wife sat.

Arya stared at his back and looked at Jon with an eyebrow raised. Jon just shrugged. "You know him, Robb is weird."

"What did he say?" Arya asked with a smile.

Jon grinned as he spied the heir, wanting his dominance over Robb to be well known. "He asked me why I am so much better than him with a sword. He is really frustrated lately."

"I am not!" Robb shouted from afar and turned back around in his seat to chat with his wife and her family.

Jon frowned in confusion and with humor. How did he hear me? I should really be watching my back from now on.

…

Jon's eyes slowly opened and yawned as he stretched his arms in his bed. Ghost was at his side, not making nose except an occasion snort from his sleep.

Today is the day.

Today is the day when the north finally marches south and Jon is feeling annoyed at the promise of getting chased down by questions about his dealings on the road.

Jon just hope that nobody bothered him and he can think alone in peace about his upcoming meeting with his family, but by the glances he has been getting that seemed like a foolish dream.

Jon started as there was a loud knock on his door. Ghost jumped out of the bed and stared at the door with intentness.

I don't need a bodyguard, I got fucking Ghost.

Jon got to his feet and unbarred the door. He kept his face blank, though inside he was bloody screaming at what he was seeing.

Lady Stark was at his door.

Lady stark is at my door.

Jon blinked…and blinked again.

"May I come in?" She asked tensely.

Jon nodded and stepped to the side. Catelyn swept in and looked at the room with a critical eye. She knelt down by Ghost and rubbed the back of his ear.

"Is there something you need, lady stark?" Jon asked neutrally. He was not in the mood to be scolded about being out of sight of the royal family and some nonsense.

"Yes I do," Catelyn got to her feet and watched him for a moment. "I need your forgiveness."

"Excuse me?" Jon said. Though, his mind started clicking. "So, Lord stark told you the truth."

"Yes."

"It was about time."

Catelyn sighed, her tense face showing regret. "I was not fair to you…I was harsh and it was unjustifiable. All these years of me hating you, loathing you…probably made you loath me. When Ned brought you to Winterfell I disliked you from the very start, without knowing who you are."

Catelyn frowned as she stared at her feet. "I made a promise. I prayed to all the seven gods that ill love you, to accept you like my own. But I broke it…because I couldn't love a motherless bastard, or now a motherless prince."

"I am so sorry for all the hate that I gave you…will you forgive me?"

Jon stared at her, so torn. This was the woman that made his life miserable here. This was the woman that sought out to create a wedge between him and his siblings. This woman was the one who always looks down on him. This was the woman that demanded him to be sent to the wall more than once. And this was the woman that Jon wanted to get away from…to Essos.

Catelyn was pouring her regrets out and was admitting that she had been wrong for all the mental abuse she had been giving him.

Can Jon really forgive?

Jon was proud enough to say that none of his emotions showed on his face, though he wasn't sure it would last long.

"No," Jon said at last.

Catelyn sucked in a breath.

Jon turned his face away from the disappointment and the grief that was on her face. "I'm not ready to forgive yet. I don't think I am ready to forgive anything for a long time. You and Lord Stark done something that I should really kill myself for. What you say now doesn't change the past."

There was silence before Catelyn nodded. "I understand. What lord Stark did was unforgivable and what I have done was unforgivable as well. What you're doing for my children is something I can't ever return and all I can say is thank you."

Catelyn walked around Jon and softly closed the door. Jon quickly barred the door and sighed, his emotions were wild as of late and he didn't like it not one bit.

Ghost looked at him in concern and Jon rubbed his head. "I'm alright pal don't worry about me," Jon reassured as he walked to his bed. "You should be worried about me getting some damn sleep."

Jon fluffed his pillow and tucked himself underneath his blanket. He already packed his stuff last night and it wouldn't hurt him to get more sleep. It was needed more than ever right now.

Jon scowled in his pillow and closed his eyes.

…

Horses and carriages filled the open space roads. Hollow trees and dead branches were trampled as the horses marched past. Shouts and jabs were traded as the journey continued. The sky was just beginning to darken, with snow and dirt kicking up as the massive party continued.

Robb stopped and raised his fist. The party stopped and looked at the young man. So far he gathered the Lord's respect. "Let's camp here tonight, we will continue in the morn."

Cheers flourished as horses were put to the side, as tents were set up, and ale flowing and spilling. They were all happy that they can stop their advance, they had been riding for hours.

Jon agreed with their joy whole heartily. Jon nodded at a steward that took his reins and climbed off his horse. I have to go piss. Jon thought with a grimace, he had been holding it for the duration of the trip but he can't any longer.

Jon looked at Ghost. "Stay here, I'll be back." The direwolf rolled his tongue and sat on his bottom.

Thankfully, none approached Jon as he slipped away from the group to relieve himself. Jon found a remote place that was vacant from any wandering eyes and he got to business.

For every second that he pissed he looked behind his shoulder. A bloke can never be too careful when it comes to your privacy. It was for this cautious act that he caught a figure moving in the darkness.

Jon pulled up his breeches, turned around and drew his sword. "I know you're out there, come out!"

"This man means no trouble, only a delivery," A man said as he stepped in Jon's line of vision. The man wore a brown dirty cloak that concealed his face, but not the accent.

"Who are you?" Jon demanded, this person was from Essos…he knows it. If this low life thinks he can claim the bounty on me…he has another thing coming.

His assumptions were false as the man lowered his hood.

Jon was blown away. "Jaqen h'gar?" His grip on his sword did not lax, only increased. This was a bloody faceless man…they were as dangerous as they were unpredictable. Jon narrowed his eyes as he felt his blood rise as he mentally prepared for a battle.

Jaqen stood, not bothered in the least at his hostility. "This man has a delivery," He intoned.

Jon frowned and stood there in confusion. Jaqen waited with uncanny patience, his dead brown eyes holding Jon's burning purple ones.

Jon remembered the faceless man for certain. Red and white hair, his height, the air around him…Though he doesn't have any recollection about any delivery…

Jon's mind turned.

He couldn't keep his face blank as his jaw opened slightly. "You…actually got it?" He asked quietly, His hands began to sweat. And his mind tingled.

"This man has it," Jaqen said nodding. He walked over to him with care and searched through his cloak.

Jon's mind was in a mess, even as Jaqen pulled out a deadly looking sword, even as the sword was now in his shocked hands.

"The debt is paid," Jaqen said emotionless.

"Thanks," Jon croaked out.

Jaqen actually smiled and Jon didn't think his eyes appeared lifeless anymore. "Don't thank this man, he should be thanking you. You saved this one's life."

Nothing else was said and he was gone.

Jon blinked and looked at the sword in his hands with awe and the rapidly feeling of attachment. Long ago…he saved Jaqen from another faceless without knowing who they were or why they were fighting, only that someone was in need for help and then the shock came later.

Jaqen asked for what he wanted as he was the one who saved his life and Jon answered with his most harsh failure deep in his mind. Afterward, Jon hadn't heard of any word of Jaqen since then and he gave up hope. And he was foolish for doing so, for someone like Jaqen…his abilities should not be looked down upon.

But…faceless men always get the job done. If it involves killing people they get the job done. If it involves getting a lost sword within the Golden Company they get the shit done.

Jon eagerly soaked the sword with his eyes. Twin dragon heads on the hilt, a ruby on the pommel that matched Ghost eyes and smoky ripples that traveled its length.

It's Blackfyre.

Were there any casualties? Jon wondered. The last time he made the effort to get the legendary sword he barely escaped with his life, but someone did betray him to be fair. Jaqen had the advantage of surprise and being a faceless man while Jon's ambitious plan was foreseen.

Jon gave a few tests with Blackfyre. The sword was thin but Jon could tell it was stronger than it looks. How strong? Jon glanced at a random tree and formed an idea and he took a deep breath and sliced through with gracefulness.

Instantly, a good chunk of the tree fell to the ground as a few touched Jon's eyes. He smiled, Blackfyre was the best sword he owned out of the many he had in his possession. After all, Aegon the conqueror once used this weapon, it has to be superior to the others.

With ease, Jon took the ordinary sword out of his scabbard and let it drop the ground. With a swoosh, Blackfyre was sheathed in its place. Without a glance at the sword that lay on the ground, he left to rejoin the camp.

"Snow!" A voice called out.

Jon turned back around with his mask back in place. An averaged sized man with short black hair and blue eyes stepped forward. Jon immediately identified him as a Bolton with the image of a flayed man on his furs.

"Yes, and you are…?" Jon asked knowingly.

"Domeric Bolton," The man answered softly, he reached out a hand.

Jon accepted the small invitation and shook his hand firmly. "Pleased to meet you my lord, what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Nothing," Domeric said easily. "You just happen to interested me; I seek to have a normal conversation with someone who is not in their cups."

Jon looked around and understood the young man's point. Jon can only spot a few that was sober enough to even walk on their feet; they were definitely going wish otherwise in the morn.

Jon turned back to Domeric, gauging his character. "I am sorry for your father's death my lord."

Domeric waved it away, a sad smile on his face. "He is with the gods now. And for now on, call me Domeric."

"Ok Domeric."

"Walk with me," Domeric said as he started walking without Jon's response.

Jon narrowed his eyes at the lords back. He was able to smell when somebody was making an act from most people thanks to his time in the Golden Company where everyone was a seeker for more favor and glory, and Domeric was using it a minute ago. The Bolton brushed off the mention of his father with no emotion…too easily.

Domeric looked back at him with a small smile. "Are you coming?"

Jon nodded and glanced at Ghost. "Let's go Ghost," The direwolf rose from his bottom and paced with Jon to Domeric.

The Bolton eyes stretched as he looked at the animal with respect and fear. "It's splendid," He whispered.

"It's a he, not an 'it'."

Domeric absently nodded. "Of course, that is my mistake."

Jon and Domeric walked side by side through the camp talking idly about stuff that is not important, though, not for too long.

"The dragon is truly magnificent, isn't it?" Domeric asked.

Jon grew stiff at the mention of Cannibal. "Yes it is."

"A beast of that size is incredible," Domeric said. "Such power, the rider must have some as well if he can ride it. I read a couple of books that said Cannibal is berserk."

"Common sense," Jon said normally. He didn't think the north would be still kicking if Jon didn't have control over it, Cannibal is savage.

"The king wanted his audience for a while now," Domeric stated.

"I know."

Domeric turned his head to look at him. "Don't you think it is…strange?"

"What do you mean?"

"The king asked for a meeting with the rider but he refuses to show himself."

"That's simple, he probably wants no attention to come to him." Jon replied.

Domeric smiled and shook his head. "There is no question that the king may give him a generous amount of dragons for his help in saving kingslanding."

Jon glanced at him. "He doesn't want the gold apparently. The rider just wants to help."

"No man would want to turn that down. Everyone has a motive in doing something." Domeric countered.

"He doesn't have a motive, he is honorable."

"In this world no one is honorable."

"That's not true," Jon denied. "I personally know a few."

"Ok then," Domeric said. "Name one."

"Lord Stark."

Domeric stared at him. "If he is honorable, then why are you here?"

Jon bit his tongue so hard that it bled, tightened his fist so forcibly his gloves screeched so to retrain him from punching the man next to him in his mouth. He was not Ned's bastard; however, old habits still have some measure of holding over Jon. Also, he wasn't supposed to care about that anyway. But the way Domeric said it made Jon rage.

"I'm sorry to tell you that, I had to make a point." Domeric explained calmly.

"That's reasonable," Jon said through clenched teeth.

"Good." Domeric turned his eyes ahead. "Now to what I was saying, I think I know the reason to the rider's motive."

"If he has one."

Domeric went on as if Jon didn't speak. "The rider is not after privacy nor is he trying to protect us from the dragon by hiding because there were sightings of the dragon in multiple locations without the rider present."

"Oh," Jon causally said. Something told him that he would not like what the Bolton's next words were but he was too curious.

Domeric pale blue eyes turned sharp. "The rider is not showing his face because he is hiding something."

Jon's heart stopped and so did his feet, Ghost paused and looked at him curiously. Domeric was aware and stopped as well to glance at him. "Are you ok?" He asked politely.

Jon's mouth was suddenly heavy. "Yes. I think it's time for me to retire."

"The night is still young."

"I want to be well rested before we ride in the morn."

Domeric nodded. "Farewell."

Jon nodded back and quickly walked away with Ghost by his side. He reminds me of Tyrion. That was not a good thing; he has to be on guard around Domeric from now on and he will be better prepared. Jon wondered if the Bolton had a motive into approaching him…

Jon leisurely walked in the camp to search for the Stark's tent. It didn't take a great deal of time before he spotted Shaggy outside of a decent sized pavilion. The black wolf barked and lunged at him with great velocity. Jon grinned as he was taken down. Shaggy drenched his face with saliva as he kissed his face. There were laughs as the large wolf showed his love.

"Shaggy!" A squeaky voice yelled.

Jon looked to the side to see Rickon standing at the tents entrance. The auburn haired Stark wrapped his skinny arms around Shaggy's head and pulled "Down!"

Shaggy obeyed and ran into the tent. Rickon sheepishly smiled at Jon. "Sorry about that."

Jon grinned and got to his feet. "It's alright sport," He said as he ruffled Rickon's hair.

"Come on! Everyone is inside!" Rickon said as he grabbed Jon's hand and dragged him to the tent.

Even Lady stark? Jon thought with worry. He was not afraid of the women, but afraid of the conversation that may happen after the drama at Winterfell.

He and Rickon entered to see the family seated at a long table along with Theon. Arya sprang from the long table in the center. "Where've you been at, Jon?" Arya asked annoyed. "We didn't see you after the tents were made up."

"Stop it, Arya," Sansa sharply said. "What he does is his business, not yours."

"Shut up, stupid!"

Lady and Nymeria started sizing each other up as if the other was a cause for their master's ire. Ghost rejoined grey wind, summer and shaggy in a corner and watched the two girls in silence.

"Please stop," Robb pleaded and Alys nodded as Theon and Bran chuckled. "You two have been arguing for hours, can ya'll just leave each other be?"

"Arya keeps acting like she is a boy rather than a lady! She doesn't know how to act," Sansa accused.

Arya opened her mouth in outrage. "I'm not a boy or a lady! Father says I don't have to be one."

"Girls!" Catelyn cut in. "Sit down and eat, enough of this arguing."

Arya and Sansa shared a final glare before seating down on opposite sides of the table. Would I and the crown prince argue like that if I was raised with him? That was unlikely, Jon heard nothing except good things about the crown prince. People even say that he was going to be a better king than even Rhaegar and that he is going to be the wisest ruler since Jaeharys the wise. And more recently the prince married the Tyrell woman.

Jon stiffly returned Catelyn's barely distinguishable nod. It was not going to be a good idea if the others have an impression that the women would all of the sudden be formal with him.

Jon sat down next to Robb as Rickon took a seat beside him. Robb's face turned surprised as Jon removed his scabbard from his waist for comfort.

"Nice hilt," Robb whistled, catching the others attention to his scabbard. "Where did you get that?"

Jon grinned secretly. "From a friend."

"If the hilt is nice, the sword its self must be as well," Theon stated as he used his fork and knife to cut his sausage.

"Yes, your right," Alys agreed as she watched Jon's scabbard with interest. "I'm most curious about the sword myself."

Bran leaned over the table eagerly. "Can we see it?"

"You can see it when I win the melee," Jon said.

There was looks of shock at his unwavering confidence. Robb placed his cup on the table and looked at him. "You really think you can win it all?"

"I have no doubt."

"Listen, Jon," Robb started. "You are good with a sword, really damn good. I heard that you are legendary with it, I personally experienced it myself. But in this tourney everybody is competing, that includes the crown prince and the kingsguard."

"Don't forget about the Clegane's," Theon added in a rush. "They are bloody big and powerful and the mountain is supposed to be bigger than lord Umber."

"Big, powerful, mountains, skill, prince, kingsguard," Jon said smoothly. "It won't matter to me. All of them is going to end smothered beneath my boot."

Jon felt Rickon fidget next to him and realized that he said his words too seriously as nobody met his gaze, even Lady Stark and Theon looked away.

"Even me?" Robb asked. "Well, I'm happy to say that I'm going to stick to the joust."

The silence ended and there were laughs to his sense of humor. Jon grinned at him. "Don't be so sure, I may participate in that too."

Robb kept his grin. "I don't care if you join the joust, I would smack you senseless. I've always been the better rider between the two of us."

"I'll give you that."

"While you two are talking about swords and maces, I am bound to win the archery competition," Theon boasted.

Robb rolled his eyes. "We all know that, buddy. You know, I've always have the opinion that the people who use bows instead of swords are too much of a coward to be in close combat."

Theon sputtered and engaged Robb in a dispute. Jon inwardly nodded at Robb's point of view. He always preferred to be close and personal with his enemies, if he ended someone's life it was not going to be from afar. A close friend taught him that.

"You have to look them in the eye before you take their life. If you can't do that, maybe he doesn't deserve to die after all."

"Do you think the rider is going to be at the tourney?" Arya voiced.

"That's not going to happen," Theon said. "He only came to sight once, why come now?"

Strangely, Robb watched Jon as the topic swelled, Jon's face remained posed, showing nothing.

…

Far too soon there was the announcement to retire, Jon walked away from the pavilion to find one of his own. A hand clamped on his arm before he got too far. Robb turned him around and crossed his broad arms.

"What's wrong? Shouldn't you be getting comfy with your wife?" Jon asked mildly.

Robb stared at him. "Do you have something to tell me?"

Jon looked up to the night sky and rubbed his beard. He knows that Robb has a suspicion that he is the rider, that clarifies the way he had been staring at him during supper. Jon weighted the pros and cons of confessing this to the Stark and he just doesn't give a damn. There was no point in hiding this from Robb.

"Exactly," Jon conceded, taking Robb by surprise. "I am the rider."

Robb's eyebrows shot to his forehead, his face transforming to shock, disbelief, to amazement and then to shock again.

Robb chuckled and looked to the sky. "Why should I be surprised?"

"You have every right to be," Jon answered quickly. "If I was in your place I would be as well."

Robb glanced at him. "A northern bastard went to Essos where he gained fame and unbelievable skills and came back with a dragon and is secretly a Targaryen, that's phenomenal. A good ass story to tell."

"And a good song to sing," Jon jested. The two laughed and grew solemn at the amount of lies that circled Jon.

"I didn't get the dragon from Essos," Jon said randomly.

Robb looked to be processing this before he spoke again. "You went with Tyrion Lannister to Valyria," Robb went on as Jon nodded. "And that's where you found the dragon."

"Aye, though it was a living hell when I met it," Jon responded dryly.

"If you don't mind me asking, what else did you discover in Valyria?"

"Actually, I do mind. I don't want to talk about it."

Robb nodded without protest and Jon thanked him for that. "Do you have a tent set up already?"

"I don't," Jon admitted.

"Then I will have someone make one for you. I will see you in the morn," Robb said as he walked away, probably digesting the loads of information that he took.

Jon admired his cousin's ability to withstand the impossible. Robb took problems in stride and joked about it afterwards, he will be an excellent warden.

Jon wasn't positive of what he will be in the future, and that scared him.

Review! good day to you all