Jon's eyes were full of tears. His ears ringing with the sound of a baby's cries. A mere five years ago he could never have imagined himself standing here. At his lady wife's side and their child being born. He had been the bastard of Winterfell, knowing that with each day that King Robert grew closer would be one more day till his Lord Father left for the South as the Hand of the King. The moment his Lord Father was gone beyond the horizon, would be the moment that Lady Catelyn would all but order him to leave Winterfell. No matter what Robb or any of their siblings said.
That was until Lord Wyman Manderly had arrived in Winterfell less than a week before King Robert was due to arrive.
Lord Wyman was good to him whenever Lord Stark took Robb and him to visit Lord Wyman in White Harbor. Always placing him at the high table next to Robb and allowing his granddaughters to dance with him, even if he always ended up stepping on their toes. Ser Wylis and his brother Ser Wendel were kind as well. Wynafryd though. She was kind as she was pretty. Who did not lack the fire that her younger sister had, but tempered it with a cleverness that she used to run circles around Robb and him at tabula.
The day before King Robert arrived in Winterfell, Lord Stark summoned Jon to his solar and told him what Lord Wyman came to speak to him about. To take him as his ward, to squire for his cousin Ser Marlon, and upon winning his spurs and a betrothal contract.
As he looked at the woman he came to love more than his own life, he said, "You did it, Wynafryd. You did it. Our babe is here".
He dabbed her sweaty brow as she looked at him with love.
She looked at him and smiled. Still exhausted from the labor.
Jon turned towards the maester and midwife to catch a glimpse of his newborn. That was when he noticed something wrong. The maester and the midwife were quiet, their faces a queer mixture of shock and confusion.
Wynafryd noticed it as well, "Is everything alright, where is my son".
Maester Theomore said uncertainty, "Your son is healthy, the babe just has a powerful set of lungs".
Jon could see the expression on his face. He was lying.
Jon used his lord's voice, "Maester Theomore, my Lady wife wishes to hold our son".
The blonde maester replied, "Of course my lord".
Handing the swaddled babe to Jon, Jon took him in his arms and his newborn son was crying.
Jon said, "I think he is hungry", as he handed their babe to her.
Wynafryd lowered her shift for their son to suckle and gently caressed his head shifting the cloth off his head revealing a thin wisp of silver-gold hair.
Jon was speechless. Silver-gold hair? How? Wynafryd had brown chestnut hair and his own mane was so dark that it appeared black.
The babe opened his eyes as he suckled at Wynaryd's breast. They were dark; but not the dark gray Jon had, but reflected a shimmer of indigo like the richest of Braavosi cloth.
Wynafryd had laid with another man. It had to be. There was no way this child was his. He was as Northern as could be. The blood of the First Men ran strong through his veins. Lady Catelyn hated him for this exact reason. That he looked more Stark than her own children save Arya.
Wynafryd said, "He is perfect even if he doesn't look like us, my love".
The door opened. It was his father, followed by Ser Wylis and Lord Manderly.
Lord Wyman said, "Jon my lad. How are my perfect granddaughter and great-grandson"?
Surely more words would have followed from Lord Wyman, Ser Wylis, and his own father if it wasn't for the fact that they were left as speechless as Jon had been.
His father suddenly broke out into a cold sweat, clutching his chest, and mumbling incoherently.
Ser Wylis exclaimed, "By the Seven"!
Lord Wyman though… His smile grew from ear to ear.
Now it was time for Wynafryd to break the silence, "I know our son's appearance is unusual, but surely there must be some reason for our son's look".
Jon clenched his fist and gritted his teeth as he said, "Must you truly make me seem a bigger fool? You know why".
It took all his restraint to keep from saying something that he knew he would regret even in his wroth.
She looked at him as if he grew a second head and asked, "What? What in the name of the gods, are you talking about"?
Theomore found his tongue at last, "He means my lady, why are continuing to pretend that the babe is from his seed. When it is as clear as the Western sky from Lannisport in Summer, that she laid with a Lyseni".
Ser Wylis moved faster than Jon had ever seen him move as he grabbed the maester by his robes and pinned him against the wall, shouting, "HOW DARE YOU CALL MY DAUGHTER A WHORE AND MY GRANDSON A BASTARD"!
The blonde maester was lost for words reduced to panicked mumbled begging.
Jon's own Lord Father was breathing rapidly and struggling to force himself to be heard, "Jon… I…can…explain"...
Lord Wyman said, "Can't you see lad?! Surely, you must!? You're a clever man, afterall".
Jon turned to him in disbelief stunned in silence.
Lord Wyman continued, "It is the pact! The Pact of Ice and Fire! Older pacts as well. The pacts of the Good Queen and later Prince Jacaerys! The Old Gods and the New must surely be smiling on us today"!
Jon was even more angered and confused and turned to his Lord Father, "Father, what in the Seven Hells is he talking about"!?
Lord Eddard Stark was bracing himself against the frame of the door being helped by the midwife. Finally managing to catch enough breath to say, "It's true. I'm not your father, pausing to take another deep breath before continuing, "Rhaegar Targaryen is. Your mother was my sister, Lyanna".
Author's Note: Thanks to Reddit and r/TheCitadel for inspiring me to finally write this story.
Jon could not say what happened next after his father spoke those words. As the word turned black.