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288 AC
'How is it like to walk on sand?' Jon asked innocently as Rhae brushed her hair. He didn't understand why she was doing that. Her hair was already beautiful, long and black like his, but of course, Jon knew his own hair was much more beautiful than hers; everyone knew that.
"Ahh, it's ticklish, but also annoying sometimes," Rhae explained as she looked at herself in a mirror, moving her head to the side to look at her hair, which covered the side of her face and reached her shoulder.
"Why annoying?" Jon asked curiously. He had never been anywhere near sand, and he didn't even know what it looked like. The Maester told him sand is like ground but in thousands of small pieces. Jon always wondered how someone could build a house in a desert! How did those in Dorne even live? Building their houses in deserts didn't sound like a good place to live.
"You can burn your feet with sand, especially during the day, when the sun is high, and make everything too hot. Ari always told me that I would be scorpion food if I ended up in deserts without water during the day." Rhae answered with a slightly higher voice as if trying to mimic someone else.
It was not the first time Rhae had mentioned the name Ari. Jon wondered who she was. From her tone and how often she brought her up, he wondered if she was her sister. It sounded like how he sometimes talks about Robb.
Jon didn't know what a scorpion was, but it didn't sound like a cute animal. "Why do you keep brushing your hair?" Jon asked, a little annoyed. It's been thirty minutes, after all. Why do ladies and girls always take so long to make themselves beautiful? Jon was sure he never understood that, but his grandmother always told him that he was only five years old and would appreciate their efforts to look beautiful once he grew up. Jon highly doubted that.
"To make my hair look beautiful," Rhaenys answered sharply as she tilted her head to the side, looking at herself in the mirror. Jon rolled his eyes; he never had to brush his hair. Thank the old gods.
"What is a scorpion like?" Jon asked curiously; he wondered if the Maester knew that the old man knew everything.
"A scorpion like an ant but much bigger—" the girl explained, using her hands to show him how big a scorpion could be.
"Eiii, that sounds disgusting," Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought. Ants of normal size were already unbearable, let alone an ant of that size.
"Yeah, they also have a tail with a poisonous pointy end. My uncle always said that a scorpion can kill you with a single bite." Rhae added. Jon tried to imagine it, and it didn't sound like a pleasant creature to have around.
"Scorpions. Well, if they got close to me, I would have killed them one by one," Jon boasted as he jumped off the bed, using the curtains of the bed to make a makeshift sword. Sadly, it would just fall flatly on the side of his hand as he tried to grip it harder and make it seem like a sword.
"Pfff—you boys love boasting about everything," Rhaenys said with a teasing voice as she finally let go of her brush, placed it on the table where the mirror was placed with two thin wooden beams, and turned around to face him.
"And you girls love talking about blue knights, rainbows, and stitching," Jon said with the same teasing voice as he let go of the piece of the curtain; his smug smile grew when Rhae looked at him with a glare. She was four years older than him, but he wasn't scared of her. It was always fun when her face turned red like blood, and she would start chasing him around.
"That's not true." Rhae quickly defended herself, slowly approaching him, Jon giggled as he slowly backed away, his back touching the back of the bed.
"You told me, you loved the tale of Jeyne of Oldstone." Jon reminded her with the same teasing voice, wiping away fake tears from his eyes. Rhae looked like she wanted to murder him, as her face turned more red, if that was possible.
"It's a romance story. It's beautiful. The way Prince Duncan fell in love with Jeyne of Old Stone, and he refused to let go of her, even when everyone told him to choose the throne or the love of his life." She defended herself passionately as her walking pace increased, approaching Jon, who kept backing away from the pissed dragon girl.
"Exactly, you girls love reading silly things about love and shit, it rots your brain." That was the last straw as Rhae started chasing after him; Jon quickly ran for his life around the large bedchamber.
"Come Here, Jon! I won't hurt you a lot!"
"Yeah, sure. I love my life!" Jon shouted back at her as he jumped at her bed, Rhae chasing after him like a dragon chasing after a direwolf. She quickly jumped on top of her bed while Jon used the curtains as protection.
"Stand Back, Dragon, or I will slay you with my mighty sword," Jon shouted, trying to sound like a grown man, as he used the curtains once again, trying to make them seem like a sword—a sword made of curtains.
"Ohh, my knight, please don't hurt me. My flames are powerless against the might of Curtain Sword." Rhaenys said with a teasing voice, before giggling, especially when Jon huffed loudly, let go of the piece of the curtain, and tried to find something else. That was the best opportunity for Rhae to tackle him on the side of the bed, almost reaching the wooden frame.
"I caught you, my knight. You lost." Rhaenys gloated with a huff, but Jon wasn't done yet. He quickly pushed her away before grabbing the curtain once again and bringing it close to her neck, and she kept giggling.
"You are down, my Dragon Lady. Now, your reign of terror has ended," Jon said dramatically, as Rhae giggled more while raising her hands in surrender.
"I will return one day, my lord, and when that day comes, you won't be as lucky," Rhae said with a slightly higher voice than his, trying her hardest to sound like an angry dragon, but Jon laughed as he pulled away from her. Rhae stood up, sitting on her bed, with Jon jumping out of bed. They both noticed the sunlight slowly appearing on the horizon through the windows.
Jon groaned loudly, knowing it was over; why did it always have to end so fast? Couldn't the sun wait a bit longer?
"I guess, this is it. See you in a month, Jon." Rhae said with a hint of sadness, trying to sound tough, like how her uncle had taught her, but she failed miserably as Jon turned to look at her, his purple eyes looking at her with tenderness.
"What is your name?" Jon asked swiftly, walking closer to her bed as she sat on the edge.
Not again, Rhae thought, looking away from him, knowing she couldn't tell him what her real name was. This was the fifth time he had asked her, and she still didn't understand how he knew Rhae wasn't her full name. That made her only more concerned. She knew he was younger than her, but being the bastard son of Lord Stark, she knew nothing good could come from this friendship.
Uncle Oberyn would be angry with her for even talking to him. She still didn't understand why those dreams felt so real; it made no sense.
After the first night, she dismissed it as simply a dream, but a month later, when the full moon came once again, she met Jon again.
Both were quite surprised to have the same dream, but this time, they asked each other about their lives and who they were. Rhae, of course, told him that she lived in a town in Dorne and her father was a blacksmith, while Jon told her that he was the Bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. Upon hearing that, Rhae refused to talk with him.
After waking up, she had asked Uncle Oberyn questions about her enemies. She knew she couldn't just straight up ask about the Bastard son out of the blue; even someone like Quentyn would know she was hiding something. So, their conversation eventually led to Lord Stark, and she asked if Lord Stark had children to succeed him if he died. Her uncle had cursed before telling her that he had a son, a Bastard son, and a daughter.
Rhaenys knew right away that her dreams weren't just dreams, so after one more month, when the full moon came again, she had the dream again.
But this time, she had been more cautious around him and often asked questions about the North and if there was any way to gain any information from him; sadly, that led nowhere since Jon either didn't have the information to give her or he didn't want to tell her.
Whatever the case, after four months, their 'friendship' returned to normal, but then Jon started asking questions about her full name. When asked why he thought Rhae Sand wasn't her full name, Jon giggled before pointing at her.
"You called Ari Aria once, so I figured her full name was different, and I think your full name is not just Rhae but rather a nickname," Jon answered sincerely.
Rhae cursed herself for slipping like that. She was supposed to be half snake, and snakes don't make such silly mistakes.
"Rhae is my full name, Jon." She said, trying to sound convincing, but Jon didn't believe a word. Instead, that started his barrage of questions about her full name every time they met once a month.
Now, while she thought Jon was good, she knew he was just a kid like her. Once he grew up, she knew he would become her enemy. She didn't know why she had these dreams. At first, she thought they were Dragon Dreams, but Dragon Dreams should have shown her glimpses of the future, not being able to talk with someone who lived in the North, on the opposite side of the continent. So, with a heavy heart, Rhae gave him the same answer.
"Rhae is my full name, Jon." She said with a blank voice.
Jon's smile wavered slightly. He looked down at his feet with disappointment before looking back at Rhae. His vision turned somewhat blurry, and his eyes burned. "It's because I'm a bastard, right?" he asked, his voice cracking as he said it. Suddenly, everything went black. The last thing Jon heard was the sound of someone opening the door. '
Jon gasped, looking around frantically; he quickly recognized his chamber. He was back in the North. The cold wind greeted him, echoing outside, talking to him. The trees trembled and shivered from the cold, and the branches shook the snow off each other as they danced with the wind.
At least I got my answer, Jon thought with a heavy heart. His eyes burned, and he took deep breaths before gaining back his composure.
"It's still early," Jon thought, turning his neck to look at the view outside. The sun had just started coming out of the mountains after hiding the whole night.
Jon always wondered why the sun would want to hide like this; he remembered Lady Bella once telling him the Sun loved to play 'Hide and Seek' with the moon. Jon wondered if the sun would ever catch the moon. He remembered the dream he had last year. The sun was bleeding, the moon had won the 'Hide and Seek' game, and the white creatures were doing something with the bodies.
Jon threw away the blanket before jumping out of bed and quickly changing into his clothes and boots.
Walking outside, it took only a short time for Jon to reach the training yard while telling every servant and guard 'Good Morrow' several times.
Jon loved to run around the corridors. He loved the sound the wooden planks made every time he took off running. The guards and servants always laughed when he almost knocked on someone while running.
Jon loved the way they laughed and loved that in this place. Lady Stark was too far away to tell him that running was forbidden or some boring excuse like that, and the cowface that followed her behind reminded him for the hundredth time that he was a bastard.
Jon reached the top of the straight wooden staircase, the training yard almost greeting him as a wind blew around it. He took a deep breath and took steps back until his back touched the wall.
Before rushing forward, he jumped with a big push of his right leg and landed roughly on the snowy ground beyond the wooded staircase, his feet digging into the one-foot-deep snow. Still, Jon smiled brightly as he jumped up with his fists raised in the air. He hadn't stumbled this time; he was on his feet, and this time, he didn't almost break his legs.
"Take that staircase. You are powerless against me." Jon boasted before rushing towards his weapon for today.
He grabbed the small axe that was stuck on the wooden plank. The snow had covered the handle, but Jon cared not as he gripped the wooden handle, pulling it out of the wooden plank; aiming, he threw the axe across the entire training yard before hitting the dummy right on the face where his mouth should be.
Jon quickly grabbed more and more little axes, throwing each one at the dummy, one after the other. Once done, Jon looked at what he had achieved. His fingers itched a little, but the cold wasn't there; it was never there again; his fingers felt as warm as always, and he wondered if fire ran through his body instead of blood. The dummy's head was missing, and axes comprised most of his chest. His arms burned a little, but a year had passed. They never hurt as much as they did the first two weeks.
"Congratulations, little lord." He turned swiftly to see Lady Bella clapping for him, looking at him with a motherly smile as she reached the foot of the staircase before approaching him.
"Good Morrow, Lady Bella. Why are you here?" Jon asked with a cocked eyebrow as he grabbed a nearby piece of clothing resting on top of one of the many wooden beams that were spread around the training yard to polish his knife; his great-grandfather always told him that one could tell how good of a knight someone was by looking at their weapons.
According to him, 'A warrior takes care of their weapon, and the weapon will take care of them. Polish that knife every day, boy. If I see a single scrap of dirt or rust in her, I will have you living outside for a month.'
"Well, I wanted to wake you up, but then this kid just ran past me, almost knocking me down. Do you know who this irresponsible child might be?" Jon looked down in embarrassment; he usually recognized her whenever he ran like that; his face burned as he felt Bella's look of mischief on him.
"No, I never heard of him. Don't worry; I will set him straight," Jon answered sheepishly, hearing a giggle escape from Lady Bella.
"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing that, but your mother wants your presence in the great hall." Jon quickly cleaned the rest of his knife, placing the dirty piece of clothing back to the top of the short wooden beam. But this time, when he tried to run, he heard Lady Bella clear her throat loudly. Jon groaned, stumping the snowy ground, before walking with her at the same pace.
"You are no fun," Jon mumbled as they walked through the balcony on the second floor, which had a wooden roof covering the entire length. The roof was shaped so that snow would never accumulate but slowly slide down and into the training yard below them.
"I'm plenty of fun, young man. But you are not going to run around like a headless chicken. What if you have slammed against Lord Anden?" Her words made Jon gulp quite loudly. He didn't want to imagine that.
One year had passed since his arrival in Breakstone Hill. At first, he didn't like it as much as Winterfell, but eventually, he realized that no one here cared what his last name was, no one called him that name, and most importantly, whenever he made a mistake, no one would berate him for an hour or remind him that he was a bastard for the hundredth time.
No one here cared for that, the only time they did care was when he screwed up badly, and they would scold him, not because he was a bastard, but because he made a mistake, and they wanted him to learn from his mistakes. Once, he left the door open of the storage room, which caused a few cats and stray dogs to run inside and eat quite a lot of meat. Jon had earned quite a punishment from his great-grandfather; the punishment was to guard that same door for an entire month.
Jon had made sure to learn everything he could, and his great-grandfather, grandmother, and Derek taught him everything he needed to know, including how to use more than just swords. His second weapon had been a hammer.
' "I don't like using hammers." Jon complained the moment his great-grandfather handed him the hammer in his tiny hands.
"And the hammer doesn't like you either, little man. Look at him. If he had a mouth, he would have called you a coward by now." Derek teased as usual. Quickly, he burst out laughing when Jon gave him a look of annoyance before looking down at the face of the hammer in his hands. Derek had painted a face with pink paint, and the face was pulling out his tongue at Jon, much to his annoyance.
"Tell me, boy, why do knights wear armor?" Jon knew this was a trick question and was trying to make a point.
"To protect themselves," Jon answered casually. Looking behind him, he saw a cross made of two wooden sticks reaching around his height. Covering the wooden cross was a piece of armor; he remembered seeing Ser Rodrik wearing that once.
"Good, so you are not hopeless; the armor is forged so that no blade will piece the thing; it's strong and is forged at a certain angle. The blade will never pierce it; the only way to use a sword against a knight with armor is to harm him through the small gaps around his neck, armpits, and eyes, but by doing that, you are already at a disadvantage. By the time you kill him, the knight would have killed you five times already. Then there's even armor that has them wear chainmail underneath; even the small gaps become useless. The chainmail will stop whatever blade you have. That's why hammers and blunt weapons are more useful; they are good weapons for crushing chests and breaking bones. The armor cannot protect a knight from a great hammer; one good swing and their chests will be crushed like an egg." His great-grandfather said grumply in his deep voice. Once he finished, he crushed an egg with his big hand, bigger than Jon's head, before motioning for him to start using the hammer on the piece of armor.
"But the Valyrian Steel can cut through most armor." Jon reminded him with a tiny hint of satisfaction.
"Yes, and do you happen to have a Valyrian Steel blade just lying around, let me see it. It's been a long time since I have seen one," Jon looked up at him, annoyed. He was making fun of him, but he knew he was right. He held no Valyrian Steel with him, and even if he did, he knew it was smart to learn how to use every weapon, not just swords. He knew he could never get good with all of them, but knowing how to use them wouldn't hurt him.'
After that day, Jon started training on hammers, pikes, scythes, morning stars, spears, and other weapons he needed to learn how to use. He still didn't know how to use all of them, but he was sure he was making good progress.
Soon, Jon found himself back at the main hall. He sat on the high table beside his grandmother. A plate with stew was already in front of him, oiled with garlic, pieces of roasted meat, and boiled eggs decorating the stew.
His great-grandfather started talking about how tomorrow he would go out to hunt. Jon didn't pay much attention to him. It was not the first time he had gone out hunting; it could take up to one whole week for him to return.
Later, he helped Lady Bella peel the potatoes in the storage room, which stank like bad eggs.
Jon didn't understand where the smell came from, but every time he asked his grandmother, she would tell him the smell kept the rats away, and Jon knew that was true.
He had never seen a rat inside the castle, only cats and dogs. While the smell wasn't his favorite, it was much better than the sight of rats, so he tried to ignore the smell and keep peeling the potatoes with the same knife his great-grandfather had given him.
They weren't the only ones in here. Lady Ana, Lady Kasandra, Lady Yllka, and many other ladies and servants were working here; their murmurs could be heard throughout the room.
At first, he hated this job, got small cuts quite often, and didn't want to do it, but eventually, he learned from Lady Bella that he could learn quite a lot from the conversations they had in this place.
Jon heard one of the ladies talking about one of the male guards. He didn't understand what was to love about his waist! One of them was talking about Derek. The man was often brought up in conversation, and the ladies would always giggle with one another. Another man was talking about the upcoming winter with another man.
"Did you receive any letters from Robb?" Lady Bella eventually asked him as she started peeling another potato, her fingers moving swiftly and much faster than Jon's. By the time he peeled a single potato, she had already peeled five of them.
Jon looked at her hands, trying to understand how she could move her hands so fast and not cut herself; soon, he remembered that she had asked him something. "Yes, Lady Stark is with a child. Robb says he wants a new brother, something about Sansa reading too many romance books, about knights, love, and that boring stuff." Jon grumped at the end, earning a loud giggle from almost every lady around them.
"You think love is boring, Jon? No, love is the most precious thing in the world. Without love, life wouldn't be as sweet." Jon rolled his eyes and grumped loudly, earning another round of giggles.
"Bahh, it's boring and it's for girls." Jon answered dismissively, trying to focus back on the potato he was peeling.
"Oh, are you saying that you don't love me?" Lady Bella asked, sounding hurt. She hid her eyes with her hand, her head moving as if she were sobbing.
Jon's face fell. No, she was like a second mother to him, like his grandmother. "No. I love you, please don't cry." Jon pleaded, trying to move her hand away.
"I caught you." Jon was suddenly enveloped by a big hug from Lady Bella, who showered his cheeks with kisses, much to his annoyance and irritation, who tried to free himself from her dangerous hug.
"Let GO!!" Jon shouted angrily. Finally, she showed mercy and let go of him. The other ladies giggled, this time much louder, much to Jon's annoyance, who grumped and felt like running away from this place, but he knew they were messing with him.
"You know little Jon, once you grow up, you will learn to appreciate talking to ladies." Lady Kasandra said with a teasing smile.
Jon already knew what that was like; he and Rhae were friends, at least he hoped they were, even if she refused to tell him her real name and where she lived because Jon might have never been to Dorne, but he knew the girl of a Blacksmith could never have a chamber that was even better than his father's chamber back at Winterfell.
The smell was like flowers, the furniture, the bed, and the decorated walls; if the Queen had a princess instead of Joffrey Baratheon, Jon would have assumed Rhae was a Princess because of how luxurious her chamber was.
*
*
After two more hours of peeling the potatoes, he was finally done.
Before he knew it, it was dusk, and he was back on his bed with Lady Bella telling him a bedtime story.
"Arthur walked up to his Lady Commander and asked, 'What will be done of the Black Knight?' Commander Agniela turned to face Arthur, suddenly looking angry, but he knew her anger wasn't aimed at him.
'I have already contacted my father, he will come here to arrest him, and he will be questioned sharply about the stolen treasures, and then the King will decide his fate.' Her voice sounded final, but Arthur frowned upon hearing her decision, his left eye looking at her with tenderness as he always looked at her.
'I think you should let him go.' Arthur said, Agniela's eyes widened upon hearing his request-"
"Wait," Jon interrupted her story; Lady Bella moved the book away and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Why is Arthur saying that? The Black Knight blinded his right eye. Shouldn't he be happy?" Jon asked, confused; if he had been in Arthur's position, he would have been happy knowing the man who blinded his right eye and had stolen from the rich houses would be judged and executed; he knew his father would have executed the man himself.
He remembered his words, 'You seed what you sow, be a good man, and good things will happen to you, be a criminal, you will be judged by the King one day.'
Jon knew his father was always right in his judgment. He was a man of honor, and everyone knew that.
"Well, let me finish, Jon." Lady Bella said softly before clearing her throat and starting where she had left off.
" 'Arthur, you heard the doctor; your right eye is gone. It will never be healed.' Commander Agniela said with a painful expression, but Arthur didn't seem bothered, his left blue eye glittering.
'I can still see what's important to me even with one eye,' Arthur said softly, looking straight at Agniela's face as he said it. His Commander didn't understand what his words meant. But she didn't seem like she wanted to agree with his suggestion to free the Black Knight. She still remembered Arthur's cries of pain when the sword slashed through his eye, which gave her nightmares.
Arthur stepped closer and spoke as if knowing she would disagree with him. 'You have seen it for yourself, Agniela. He stole from the rich and gave it to the poor; you know they are starving; you hear the way the poor insult the royal family; if they hear what happened to the Black Knight that gave them money to survive another day, then their hatred will only grow.' Agniela looked away from him. She knew Arthur was right but couldn't forgive the man who blinded her only friend.
'I never ask for anything, Commander, but I would appreciate it if you could do this for me,' Arthur said before saluting, turning on his heels, and heading towards the door. He reached out, grasping the handle with a little difficulty, when he heard the Commander speak.
'Arthur...I will tell my father the man I caught wasn't the Black Knight, and that I was mistaken.' Agniela said before he could leave. He knew how difficult it was for her to agree with his request.
'Thank you, Agniela.'-" Lady Bella kept reading the story until they reached the part where Arthur and Agniela were saved by the Black Knight two years after the Rebellion started. The people revolted against the Royal Family.
"So, he saved them!" Jon said, sounding surprised that the same man who almost killed them later saved their lives.
"Yes." She said quietly before closing the book. "Sometimes, it's difficult to show mercy, Jon. But many people mistake mercy as a weakness; it's not a weakness, it's a gift, and one should always share their gift and not hide it. Remember, violence is a disease; you can't cure a disease by spreading it to more people." Jon remembered what his father had told him and what his grandmother had told him. He was still young, but he knew people could do terrible things, and some didn't deserve mercy, but how was he supposed to know who deserved mercy and who didn't?
"Lady Bella, how should I know if someone deserves mercy?" Jon asked, looking up at her. She smiled sweetly, leaning down and kissing his cheek.
"You will feel it in your heart. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith." Jon didn't know how to feel about her words yet, but Lady Bella was always right, and he wanted to trust her.
"Can you sing me a song?" Jon asked softly. The lady's eyes went a bit red. She looked away as if remembering something unpleasant before looking back at him. She quickly started singing him a lullaby.
Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her. His eyelids started to feel impossibly heavy. He closed his eyes for a moment. She inched closer to him and continued. Jon fully closed his eyes, on the edge of falling asleep.
"Good night, my son."
*
*
Those words made his heart jump. He quickly opened his eyes, expecting to see Lady Bella, but she wasn't with him—she was gone. He looked around, but there was no sign of her. The bedchamber was silent, besides the sound of the fire flickering in the hearth.
Jon threw away the blanket, his heart almost bursting out of his chest; he was sure he hadn't imagined that. The darkness outside, Jon knew, must have passed hours after she told him that he was her son.
She's my mother? Why did no one tell me? Jon wondered, his heart swelling with happiness and betrayal, as he rushed towards his grandmother's room. A part of him wanted to ask Lady Bella herself, but he felt his blood boiling. Why had his grandmother never said anything? Why had no one ever said anything?
The run to her chamber felt like a fever dream. Before he knew it, he was in front of her door and knocked on the wooden door with all the strength he could muster, causing the door to creak. He heard the sound of someone walking inside. The door opened swiftly, and his grandmother appeared with a dagger in her hand. She quickly looked down at him with confusion, hiding away the dagger and rushing him inside.
"Jon, are you alright, what's wrong-" "Why didn't you tell me, Lady Bella is my mother." Jon shouted with rage, turning to face her, interrupting her as hot tears ran down his cold cheek. His grandmother looked at him with an incredulous look as she closed the door behind her.
"What? Who told you that?" his grandmother asked, her voice rising with an anger he had never heard before and her face turning red with rage.
"Lady Bella." Upon saying that, his grandmother closed her eyes, sighing wearily. 'Ohh, poor Bella.' Jon heard her murmur, and he didn't understand what was happening anymore.
Was Lady Bella lying to him? Why would she lie? She always told him the truth and was kind to him.
"Jon, tell me what happened." She wasn't asking; she was ordering him as she kneeled to his level. Jon quickly told her what had happened from what he remembered, and once he was done, his grandmother chewed on her lower lip before mustering the strength to talk.
"Jon. One year before you were born, Lady Bella gave birth to a boy. I saw him only once, but he looked just like you, dark hair, and beautiful." Jon didn't like the sadness and grief in her voice as she spoke.
"What happened?" Jon asked with difficulty, feeling as if he already knew the answer.
"Six Months before you arrived in Winterfell, the sickness took her son. Bella was heartbroken; she prayed to the old gods the whole night, but the next day, he was gone. The Maester couldn't save him, and Bella, she... I found her on the old tower, staring at the bottom. I think she... It's not important, but when you came along. She accepted helping me to raise you and your dark hair-" His grandmother touched his hair as she spoke, and his eyes burned.
"I think for a moment, she... I hope you forgive her, Jon. She didn't mean anything bad." Jon didn't know how to feel, on one side, his grandmother hadn't kept information from him, but on the other, his mother wasn't with him; she was either dead or somewhere far away. When he dreamed of his mother, he always dreamed of Lady Bella and his grandmother.
"There's nothing to forgive," Jon mumbled, his voice cracking as tears ran down his cheek. He felt his grandmother's arms around him. She made him feel safe and loved.
Tomorrow
"Good morrow, Jon." He heard Lady Bella's voice as he ruthlessly hit the armor with his hammer. He turned his head to see her walking downstairs before reaching the training yard, her eyes avoiding him, looking down at her feet.
"Lady Bella, good morrow. I hope you slept well," Jon said, smiling. He put down the hammer and approached her, but she quickly stepped back when he tried.
"I-I'm sorry." She choked out the words, her eyes red with unshed tears. Jon didn't like to see her cry. He wanted her to smile.
"Why are you apologizing? You have done nothing wrong?" Jon quickly said softly as he approached her; she once again stepped back from him, wiping away tears with her hand.
"J-Jon, I'm sorry for what I said last night. I just... You remind me of Ardian so much, and he..." She choked on her words. She swiftly turned on her heels, ready to walk away. Jon quickly ran up to her, hugging her waist, stopping her from leaving. He didn't want to see her cry.
"I'm sorry that I can't be him, Lady Bella, but I want you to know that you are a wonderful woman. I really wish I could be him so you would have no reason to shed your tears. I don't have a mother, but you are the closest to that." Lady Bella let out a sob before kneeling to his level and hugging him tightly. Jon hugged her back; he could feel her tears on his shirt as he cried.
"You are so precious, Jon." She choked the words, kissing his right and left cheek.
The world is Beautiful and Cruel.
NOTE: Rhaenys, Arianne, and Daenerys will be a part of Jon's harem. Let me know who else I should add.
NOTE II: Jon will be with a few female characters, but only for some time, and not to marry them like with Ros and Kinvara.
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