1 Leaving Winterfell

[Winterfell 298 AC]

"You must wake the dragon, Jaehaerys," the Conqueror's voice boomed throughout the ruined city, and a shadow blocked the sun. He looked up, calm, angry, though he knew not how that was, and mouthed the word. Flame filled the sky, lighting it in an ominous green. "Or all will be lost."

He shot up from the bed, greedy gasps for air filling the quiet room lit only by dim moonlight. His lungs burned, his breath steamed, and his blood pumped in his ears like a hundred drums. Ghost lifted his head from his place at the foot of the bed, red eyes glowing with concern.

"Promise me, Ned," she had begged. "Robert will kill him if he knew; you know he will. Keep my boy safe, Ned, and tell him when he is old enough. I want him to know that his mother loved him." He felt his forehead where she had kissed him; it was as vivid as if it had happened mere moments ago. "My precious dragonwolf... Jaehaerys..."

The tears came unbidden, and he allowed them to fall. Ghost pushed his snout against Jae's leg, a silent whine leaving him. All his life, Jae had dreamed of his mother, where she was, how she looked, and if she loved him, but it didn't matter. She was so close, dead, buried in the dark, and he would never feel the warmth of being held by her.

Jae wept for the life he had been denied, the brother and sister he had lost, the mother he had never known, and the father who died alone on the banks of the River Trident as the battle raged on. Yet, Jae could still hear the name that left his lips before he breathed his last, "Lyanna."

He cursed Aegon for showing him their deaths. All of their deaths. Though he knew Aegon had no other choice, he still hated him for making him witness it all. No, not truthfully, but...

Tell him when he is old enough.

He gripped the furs in his fist, his eyes burning with hatred as he glared at the door. Ghost tried comforting him, but Jae was too lost in thought. He was sixteen and man grown for a year already. Did Eddard not think Jae was ready? Did he believe Jae was ill-prepared for such a secret? Had uncle Benjen known the truth? Had HE kept it hidden as well?

A rash rage overcame Jae as he realised what his uncles had planned. Eddard Stark would never tell Jae the truth about his parentage, not while he was still free of vows that were sworn to keep from sporting a crown. The Night's Watch is an honourable calling, Eddard had told him many times. Bastards can rise high on the Wall, Benjen had said.

Kill him. "No," he muttered. Ghost laid his head over Jae's legs and stared at him, silent as always. He wouldn't become a kinslayer. Despite his hatred for the man, Eddard Stark was his mother's brother, and nothing is as cursed as the kinslayer. Aegon had shown him that, too; the kin they shared lost themselves after committing the sin.

Kinslaying was not an option, but that did not mean he didn't picture it.

Mayhaps he would leave Winterfell. That would get the gears in the honourable Eddard Stark's head turning. Maybe he would remember his promise to his sister and then realise he had broken that promise. Would he sob? Would the Quiet Wolf howl in his sorrow? Jae would love to see it.

However, where would he go? "Greywater Watch," he heard Aegon whisper shout. What was in Greywater? It was in the middle of nowhere, and no one but the cannogmen could find it. Howland Reed was the Lord there, he suddenly realised. Howland had known his mother, and that was all Jae needed to set his destination.

He could learn more about his mother from Howland; Jae smiled at the thought. And then, a moment later, he frowned at another. Leaving Winterfell would mean leaving Robb and Sansa, who he loved despite the gap that had formed between them ten years ago when Eddard had brought the Squid back with him. It would mean leaving Arya and Bran and the mischief they got up to in the late night hours, and baby Rickon, who clung so tightly to his hair when Jae picked him up on his shoulders and hauled him around Winterfell, hooting loudly, "Go, Jon, go! Faster, faster!"

'I need to leave them...' he thought, knuckling away the tears. He would miss them terribly, and Miken, too, who showed him how to forge a knife the right way, and Hallis and Jacks, who had been the closest Jae had to friends, despite them being far older than him, Jae would miss them, too. And Ser Rodrick, who had taught him everything he knew about sword and lance and mace, and maester Luwin, who taught him everything else.

The more Jae thought it about, the less he believed he had it in him to leave the only home he had ever known.

And Old Nan would be beside herself with woe. He couldn't, in good conscience, leave her here in this cold castle with her needles that clicked so loudly as she told her stories by the fire, wrapped up in that faded red and black blanket she seemed never to part with. Indeed, Nan had effectively raised him; she was too old to be a mother; Jae had no doubt, but she was the closest thing he had to a grandmother.

He would feel horrible if she died here, where only the children cared enough to speak to her. Jae felt sick at the thought that if he left, he would not be here to see her off when the time came.

And then he thought of the scorn Catelyn Tully sent his way as if she had nothing better to do with her time and the decision made itself. Then, thinking of those looks the Trout sent him, Jae remembered the last time he had felt like an elder brother to Sansa.

He had been saddling Winter for his daily ride around the castle walls, not too far as to be out of the guards' sight but enough so that the young stallion Eddard had gifted him for his sixth name day a moon prior could be free of these wretched stables for an hour or so; when he heard Sansa come running up to him.

"Yon, Yon!" She shouted, and he turned around. Beaming and breathless, muddy from the knees down, Sansa had been four and wild and loved the outside more than anything. "Ride?"

He smiled at her. "You want to ride with me?" He asked, and she nodded quickly, her lively blue eyes aflame with resolve.

"I ride Missy! I no fall," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She had wanted him to take her on her mare, but she was far too young, both horse and girl alike.

"Missy is still a foal, little wolf; she can not bare the weight of us both."

She looked at him as if deciding whether or not to believe his words. In the end, she accepted them as truth and puffed her cheeks. "Ride Winter?"

"We'll ride Winter after I've saddled him," he agreed, laughing when she hugged him. Sansa patted Winter's snout, giggling when the horse raised his lips and smiled in that way only he could before she ran off to tell her father she was going to ride.

In the end, Sansa had never come to the stables, and after Jae returned from a less-than-pleasant ride, she completely ignored him. It had broken Jae's six-name day-old heart beyond anything he could have imagined, and when she called him a Bastard, he knew who was at fault, and his hatred for the Trout reached new heights.

"I will leave," he said resolutely, breaking from the painful memory, and Ghost raised his head again. Jae threw the furs off himself and packed what he could fit into a simple leather bag, dressed in his warmest clothes despite feeling he would not need them.

"Ghost," Jae called his faithful friend. The white direwolf pup cocked his head and saw Jae standing by the door. The wolf's ears perked up, red eyes shone with understanding, and he bounded over, silent as his namesake.

After leaving his chamber in the Guest House, Jae rushed across the yard to the Great Keep, where he would first need to get to the bridge that connects the Keep to the armoury; to do that, he would need to sneak by his sibling-cousins' chambers. Arya was a heavy sleeper, and she had this half-awake state when being forcefully woken up, where she thought everything was a dream. So he could say goodbye to one of them; that gave him some small solace.

He nodded at Ghost, who sat back on his haunches beside the door. Jae smiled and walked into the room, where he saw Arya's wolf Nymeria lift her head and look at him with intelligent yellow eyes. He held a finger to his lips when the she-wolf whined. And then he knelt beside the bed, gently shaking his little sister awake.

"Jon?" She said tiredly, rubbing her eyes. He stroked her hair as she yawned and looked at him with big grey eyes. "What... why... awake?"

He smiled softly, kissed her head, and whispered, "I'll miss you, little wolf." Arya cocked her head, looking at him through heavy eyelids. "I'll miss you so, so much."

"What's happening?" She asked, her eyes fluttering closed as she started to fall back asleep. "Stupid... Miss you, too, Jon."

Jae kissed his sister lightly on the brow before tucking her under the furs. Nymeria curled up against Arya, looking at Jae with those yellow eyes, and he swore he heard the wolf say she'd look after Arya. He scratched her behind the ear and smiled when the wolf nuzzled closer to Arya, whining quietly to not wake her.

Ghost peeked around the corner, and Nymeria perked up and looked at him. Jae watched closely as the wolves said goodbye, not leaving their initial positions. Nymeria lay her head down across Arya's chest, and Ghost's head vanished from the doorway.

'Amazing animals,' Jae thought, not for the first time.

Leaving Arya's chamber and softly closing the door behind him, Jae sighed deeply before skulking down the hall, where the bridge door was calling him. Ghost padded beside him as they crossed it, sitting on his haunches when they arrived at the heavy ironwood door. He looked at Jae, at the door and back, cocking his head in silent question.

"Yeah," Jae mumbled; this door had always been unnecessarily loud. He looked over his shoulder at the start of the bridge. "Well, life is full of risk, isn't it? And this is but a small one." Ghost stared at him before putting his paw against the door as if to tell him to open it already.

Jae pushed the door open, cursing at the ear-piercing screech it made as the ironwood rasped against the granite floor. Ghost sped in as soon as he could fit, running into the back of the armoury. Jae trusted his friend to grab the right bow; the wolf had seen Jae use it countless times before.

And when Jae had the door open, he hurried in and grabbed the first bastard sword he saw, two daggers, a quiver of arrows, and light leather armour he would put on once in the Wolfswood. He spied white, and Ghost appeared around a shelf, the long bow in his jaws.

The white wolf came bounding over, the longbow accidentally knocking a line of spears to the ground. Ghost froze, one leg up, and looked at Jae with eyes filled with horror as the realisation that he'd made a sound dawned on him, though unintentional as it was.

Were it any other time, Jae would have laughed. However, now that they needed to get out, he grabbed the bow and rushed out instead.

The white wolf stared at the crime scene of pointy sticks for a second longer before his wits returned, and he dashed out after his two-footed friend.

—————

He saddled Winter and hid the sword under the rucksack before mounting. Ghost looked at him, and Jae dug his heels into his horse. Winter trotted toward the Hunter's Gate, where, thank the gods, Jacks had the night's watch.

The large man looked up at Jae on his horse and pulled his cloak tight around himself. "The moon is still high, Jon," he said. "Why in fuck's sake are you awake?"

"When was the last time you slept, Jacks?" Jae asked, noticing the man's dark circles.

Jacks scoffed. "Sleep? My son is two; he cries through the night, and my wife wakes me to check instead of doing it herself. 'I need must have my beauty sleep,' she says. I have not slept in days. Now, why are you kissing my arse? What mischief are you up to?"

"Hunting," Jae said and looked at Ghost. "Ghost is sick of the meat Farlan gives the wolves; he craves to provide for himself." Jacks looked at the white wolf and saw Ghost sitting on his haunches with his head cocked to the left and staring at the gate forlornly.

"Do you think me a fool? Never mind that; you are too stupid to think me a fool," Jacks yawned. Jae shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Lord Stark knows of your little adventure?"

"Aye," Jae only felt a little bad for lying. "He's given me leave to take Ghost out after the fucker wouldn't stop clawing at the door." Ghost looked at him, and Jae swore he heard the wolf call him a traitor.

Jacks sighed. "How long until you return?"

"I have enough rations for a fortnight," Jae said, showing his bag filled with clothes and food he stole from the kitchen. Gage wouldn't mind... much.

"Alright," Jacks said and moved to the gate. He pulled one open, and Jae rode through. "If I lose my head, Snow, I'll haunt you."

"Now that would be a sight," Jae smiled. "Though, I would miss that great big beard of yours."

"Others take your jests," he heard Jacks grumble as he rode out. "Bless your name day, lad. Have a good hunt."

Jae waved over his shoulder. "Tell Jeremy uncle Jon'll bring back the biggest stag in the world," he said, spurring Winter ahead.

Winter raced across the open field toward the Wolfswood, huffing and puffing his joy, and Jae could feel Ghost running beside the horse. The moon was full tonight, so Jae could see the outline of the forest a league to the west. He turned south and rode for the Kingsroad.

He basked in the wild of the north, knowing that in the next moon or so, he would be leaving with no way of knowing when, or even if, he would be returning. Ghost was much the same, tongue lolling out as he ran ahead, snapping at falling snow and rolling around when he tumbled.

Jae laughed as Ghost caught up with Winter again. "Come on, boys," he hollered, and the wolf leapt over a pile of snow, the horse whinnying beneath him and speeding up without Jae even having to give the command. "We've got one hell of an adventure ahead of us!"

—————

Arya.

She had forgotten to close the window the night before and suffered for it now as the sun shone onto her eyelids. She opened the slowly, grumbling about mornings being stupid before sitting up. Nymeria lifted her head from Arya's legs, looked at her with pretty yellow eyes, and whined.

"Don't whine," she hugged the wolf tightly. "What's wrong with you?" Nymeria only licked her chin with a warm, wet tongue.

Suddenly, Arya remembered what today was like. Jon's name day! Excitedly, she threw her furs to the floor and jumped out of bed. Gage always made cakes for them on their name days. Maybe Jon would give her his cake if she helped him wake. She giggled at the thought.

She dressed clumsily before rushing to the door, calling for Nymeria to come. The wolf only looked at her and whined some more. "Nymeria? Come." The wolf barked at her as if she was saying something but bounded over either way. Arya shook off the foreboding that crept to the forefront of her mind, opened the door, and ran out into the halls.

Around Winterfell, Arya saw the staff hard at work to ready Winterfell for the royal family's visit. Father wants it all perfect, Jon had told her days ago, and he won't have it any other way. It was chaotic; Arya loved chaos. It made it easier to sneak around the castle grounds.

The yard was much the same. She glanced at Jory as he put his men through their paces and giggled quietly when Robb yelped as Ser Rodrick hit him on the side of the helm. Bran laughed a little louder, and Rickon screeched his opinion about it. "Robb got hit! Jon won't!"

"Yes, yes," Robb rolled his eyes and ruffled their brother's hair after stepping away from Ser Rodrick, leaving Theon to face the old knight. "We know Jon's your favourite, no need to remind everyone."

"But you forget!"

"No, we won't," Robb sighed before he saw her. He handed Bran his tourney blade and jogged over to Arya. "We've already broken our fasts, Arya. Sansa thought you'd run off to live in the Wolfswood."

She frowned at that. How had she slept longer than them? Usually, she was the first of her family awake, running around and causing mayhem wherever she went. "Arya Underfoot," they called her. She loved the name, mainly because that was precisely what she was, in the way.

Chaos was her favourite thing, after all... Well, her second favourite thing.

Her favourite was when Jon taught her how to use a bow in the Godswood late at night. She wondered why he hadn't come to wake her up that morning... But, no. He did wake her; he was saying stupid stuff that made no sense.

"Sansa's stupid," Arya finally said. And then she saw Grey Wind come toward them from where Bran and Rickon's wolves were playing, and Nymeria ran to meet him halfway. And again, the sense of dread emerged as the wolves whined.

"She's your sister, Arya. So be nice," Robb scolded while watching the wolves' strange behaviour.

"She can be my sister and still be stupid, stupid," Arya looked at Jon's door across the yard. She hated that her mother made him stay there instead of in the Keep where the rest of her siblings were. "Is Jon awake yet?"

Robb sighed and pulled his attention away from the whining wolves. "Jon went hunting last night," he said, sounding annoyed. So likely, he'd wanted to go out too, but Jon had not told anyone about his leaving. Arya frowned at that, her brows knitting together angrily.

"On his name day?" She asked, half angry, half sad. Jon had told Arya the night before that they would spend the whole day together. "He didn't tell me about that."

Robb shrugged. "He didn't tell anyone, the fucker, save for father, I think." Robb sighed again and watched Theon getting knocked into the mud by the old knight; he guffawed, "Aye, it hurts, doesn't it?"

"He hit me in the cock!" The Ironborn clutched between his legs; his voice was high and sounded girlish. 'That's what you get,' she thought, huffing. Robb laughed even louder, and the guards training with Jory joined him before their Captain shouted at them to focus.

"That is for sneaking off to that brothel again, boy," Ser Rodrick scolded, twisting his whiskers between thumb and forefinger. "Mayhaps you'll learn to obey my teachings this way."

"I'm going to find father," Arya said, spinning. Nymeria looked at her as she walked away, licked her brother's face, and bounded after the girl.

"Don't bother," Robb said. "He said he isn't to be disturbed. He hadn't broken his fast either. Something was troubling him greatly."

There it was again. Arya held her stomach, feeling ill. Arya turned around quickly and ran to Jon's room. Arya ignored Robb and yanked the door open, rummaging through Jon's things until she found it, but she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried.

"Where is it? Where? Where? Where?!"

He never took the pendant out on a hunt; he told her as much. He promised her he would never go anywhere far with it, in fear that he may lose the sword pendant she had given him for his fourteenth name day.

When Robb found her, Arya had been curled up on Jon's bed, hugging both one of his cloaks and Nymeria tightly, crying in fear that he had left. Grey Wind sniffed around the room, whining as he looked up at Robb. 'They knew,' Arya realised and held Nymeria tighter.

"What's wrong, Arya?" Robb sat on the bed and hugged her. She was grateful, but it felt off that Robb was comforting her and not Jon as he always had. Robb could have been better at showing affection, but she hugged him either way.

"Jon's gone," she sniffed.

"I told you he went hunting last night," Robb reminded her, rubbing her back. Nymeria nuzzled into Arya, letting out quiet whimpers.

Arya clung to her brother's leather armour. He smelt like sweat and mud, but she didn't care. "He took the present I gave him; he never takes it hunting. Never!" She felt Robb stiffen and heard his breathing still. Arya started to sob again.

After a long while, Robb pulled away and held her at arm's length; she saw his eyes shaking, his brows furrowing, and his breathing quicker than it should be. "Let's go find father. And then we will ask him if he knows where Jon went."

Arya was afraid. "But-But what if he doesn't know?"

Robb swallowed, licked his lip, and nodded as if he had decided on something. "Then I will ride with Farlan and a dozen hounds to find him."

—————

Howland.

Jaehaerys was coming!

Howland paced in front of the weirwood, his hand running through his dirty blond hair, his mud-green eyes darting between his footprints in the snow and the bleeding eyes of the tree that watched him patiently.

His gods had shown him many things beyond what humans dared to understand. Things they wanted him to see, but they'd never once offered Howland a vision of what he wanted. Her son.

But now, on Jaehaerys's sixteenth name day, the gods were forced to show him that he was riding for Greywater. What changed? Did Jae have the sight? Knowing the King's familial ties, he supposed it wasn't absurd to think he did; both sides of his family were powerful.

However, if Jaehaerys hadn't gained the power and been shown the truth, Howland knew that Ned would never have told Jaehaerys, not while Robert sat on the throne, so that left Howland wondering: who told him? Bloodraven? No, Bryden would sooner kill Jaehaerys than help him; Howland was convinced.

He sat on the old broken well and stared at the great weirwood whose roots burst up through the cabin thousands of years ago; the home and the tree were one now, merged by thick, twisting branches twenty feet high, housing thousands of birds, bugs, and whatever else found it appealing. Howland knew not what had happened to the people who had once lived in this cottage, and he thanked his gods they had not shown him.

The monstrous branches warped through planks, curving in great arcs larger than even the tallest tower in Greywater, with red leaves surrounding the base of the thick trunk, forming a barrier of sorts to ward off those who tried entering through the door. That door... It had always given Howland a terrible feeling; it seemed almost alive, like a mouth into the tree, and whoever entered would be greeted by eternal darkness.

And the face terrified Howland, but he had never failed to make the long trek up the mountain each year to see it; it was a new face, Howland was convinced. Someone had snuck past the wall, scaled the peak like Howland did, and carved that dreadful face while Howland was still suckling at his Lady Mother's teat. Hope, despair, and love all at once; looking at it made Howland feel each emotion at once.

It faced north, and at first, Howland thought it was the only chance, but now he needed to figure it out. Perhaps it was watching Jae, protecting him in a way only the Old Gods could. It was a silly thought, but his gods were the mysterious ones who only showed bits and pieces of their plan to a handful of people.

How long he had sat on the well and stared up at those eyes filled with hope and despair, Howland didn't know, but when he rose, the sun had been blocked out by the mountains surrounding the grove and the cabin.

His wife and children were likely worried about him; he had never been gone for as long as he had (almost a moon now), and they would no doubt have hundreds of questions... maybe not Jojen, but Meera and Jyana, defiantly.

Jojen was an even more powerful greenseer than Howland himself, so he had no doubt his son already knew what was transpiring and was planning on how to help the King in any way he could.

With that, Howland started the treacherous hike down the mountain, thinking of the gifts Lyanna had left for her boy.