2 Years Later
"We will rest here," I told my companions as I dismounted from my horse. My hunting party consisted of eight people: Theon, Jon, Jory Cassel, and five guards loyal to the Stark family.
"We'll continue chasing the bandits in five minutes. Take the opportunity to rest, eat something, and drink water," I ordered them while I prepared my weapons.
As my group settled down, I released all the insects I had on hand. The sound of two hundred thousand insects flying simultaneously was shocking. Due to the lack of subtlety, I quickly spread them throughout my entire range. In the North, there were approximately one to two million insects per square kilometer. With my five-mile range, I could maintain stealth by using between two hundred thousand and half a million insects.
After ordering them to look for traces of the group we were chasing, I sat on a rock next to Jon to rest my legs.
"How are you feeling, Jon?" I asked my cousin, taking a moment to recall the conversation that changed the course of his life.
Flashback: 1 Year Before
"Come in," Lord Stark's voice was heard. Jon and I were outside his solar, waiting for his permission. Strolling, I placed my hand on Jon's shoulder to show my support.
"You sent for me, Lord Stark?" Jon asked as he approached my father's desk.
"Have a seat, Jon."
"We have a lot to discuss," my father said. "This will be a difficult conversation for everyone, and I want you to understand that what we discuss must remain secret. No one else should hear about this," Lord Stark said seriously.
"What is this about, Lord Stark?" Jon asked, his frown showing his confusion.
"I've been arguing with Robb recently. He discovered the truth and made me realize it's time for you to know," Lord Stark said, looking embarrassed. "It's about your mother, Jon."
"My mother? Are you finally going to tell me who my mother is, Lord Stark?" Jon asked, biting his lip to hold back tears.
"We have to start with what probably will affect you the most... Jon, the truth is, I am not your father," Lord Stark said with an anguished face. "That doesn't mean I don't see you as my son. I'm very proud of everything you've accomplished, but I'm not your biological father, Jon," he continued.
"You're my nephew, Jon. You are the son of my sister Lyanna and... and Rhaegar Targaryen. And no, before you think the worst, you are not the result of rape. My sister ran away with Rhaegar so she wouldn't have to marry Robert... if only I had listened to her," my father lamented.
"But what are you saying, Lord Stark? Am... Am I a Targaryen? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Jon exclaimed.
"You know why, Jon. After seeing Robert celebrate the deaths of the royal children, I couldn't risk the same happening to you. You are the only reminder of Lyanna I have," my father explained, taking a deep breath.
"Your true heritage must remain a secret, and honestly, I had planned to take it to my grave," my father continued, clearly regretful of his plans. "If those who supported the Targaryens found out about you, Jon, it could spark a war in the kingdom."
"But that wouldn't change anything, Lord Stark. I am still a bastard of Prince Rhaegar," Jon said, confused by what my father was revealing.
"No, Lyanna explained it to me before she died... The prince annulled his marriage to Princess Elia. You are the legitimate son of Prince Rhaegar," my father explained.
"Is Lyanna Stark truly my mother?" Jon asked, his eyes full of tears.
"I'm sorry, Jon. Like I said, I had to protect you, and this was the best way I could think of at the time," my father said, standing up and hugging Jon. "Never doubt that I love you, and despite not being your biological father, you are my son, Jon."
"What do we do now, Father?" Jon asked.
"We continue as we have, acting like you are my bastard. We can't risk this secret getting out," my father said seriously.
"Understood, Father," Jon said, wiping away tears and hugging our father again.
Present
"I'm alright, Robb. Just a bit tired; we've been chasing these bandits for days," Jon said as he ate, trying to fill his stomach.
"I know, but I'm sure we'll catch them now. I can feel it," I said, smiling.
"Heh, the senses of the northern ghost," Jon said, teasing me with the nickname the peasants had given me.
"Shut up, don't remind me of that, haha," I said, lightly hitting his shoulder.
"Alright, let's get ready to move," I said to my group, grabbing my bow and arrows. "I already know where the bandits are. Remember, they are dangerous and are wanted for selling slaves to Slaver's Bay. Lord Hornwood wants them alive for attempting to sell his son, Daryn," I continued, explaining the situation to my group.
My group and I were ready for the hunt; my insects had already found the group of bandits camping three kilometers away.
Insect control showed its advantages in this type of operation. With many of my modified insects, I could see almost everything happening within my five-mile range, making it easy to track enemy groups.
Walking slowly to avoid making noise, my group and I headed toward the camp where nine bandits were eating, drinking, and boasting about their exploits. Listening to them laugh as they recounted selling victims to slavers or committing rape during village attacks made me sick to my stomach.
"Stop and prepare to approach. I will provide cover with my bow from here. Attack when you see the first wound. Remember, kill only if necessary, but try to leave them alive so that Lord Hornwood can execute them personally. Don't take risks; if you need help, say so," I ordered my group, hoping they wouldn't end up dead or injured.
While waiting for Jon and the others to get close and hide from the bandits, I readied my bow and firmly placed an arrow on the string. This wouldn't be a difficult shot; my bow, modified by Maester Luwin, was much more potent than standard bows. Despite its cost and rarity in Winterfell, it was more than sufficient for a 300-meter shot.
With my gear in position, I gently released the arrow. Using my insects, I had already determined the distance, wind speed, and other necessary data for a perfect shot, aiming for the leg of the first bandit. Confident in my archery skills, I readied the next arrow without waiting for confirmation of the previous one, aiming at the arm of one of the bandits further away.
As I served as the long-range support, Jon and the rest of my group launched their attack upon hearing the first bandit's scream. Brandishing their war hammers, they charged toward the nearest group of bandits, breaking bones without hesitation. A few moments later, the battle was over. On our side, only one guard had been injured with a cut on his arm, nothing serious, thanks to the old gods.
The group of bandits didn't fare as well; three had arrows in their bodies, and one was dead with an arrow in his head—unfortunately, I had to kill him because he had nearly killed the wounded Winterfell guard. The other two had arrows in their arm and legs, respectively. The remaining four had broken arms and legs from the war hammers: Jon dispatched two with his small size and agility, Theon defeated one, and the guards took care of the last.
Injecting the subdued bandits with milk of the poppy using my insects to alleviate their pain before their execution, we tied them up and took them back to our horses, ready to head to Lord Hornwood's castle.
---
Lord Hornwood
Lord Hornwood was in his study, reviewing reports on the area's economy provided by his steward. A knock on the door caught his attention.
"Come in," he said with authority.
"Lord Hornwood, my apologies for disturbing you. Robb Stark has been sighted by troops returning from his hunt, bringing the nine bandits causing trouble in the area," the messenger reported, trying to catch his breath.
Lord Hornwood's momentary surprise gave way to a satisfied smile. "Heh, the ghost of the north strikes again," he muttered before addressing the messenger. "Thank you for bringing me this news. Now, go and rest."
The messenger nodded gratefully and left the study, leaving Lord Hornwood pleased. "The heir of Winterfell continues to impress; he will truly be a better Lord Stark than the last ten combined," he murmured as he stood up to greet his visitors.
Robb Stark
I could never get used to the nicknames they gave in Westeros.
As we walked to deliver the bandits to Lord Hornwood, I heard the murmurs of the townsfolk.
"The ghost of the north," they called me. For a year, I had been working tirelessly to cleanse the North of scum like this group. The peasants and even the lords of different houses decided to call me that due to my efficiency in hunting down the enemies of the North. No one knew where I was striking from or could escape me.
I understood the importance of reputation in Westeros, so I didn't complain, but that didn't mean I enjoyed hearing people call me that.
"Here is the group, my lord. One did not survive the battle, but the leader of the rest had a superficial wound on his arm. Be careful, though; they are very dangerous men," I said as we handed the prisoners to Lord Hornwood's guards.
"Robb Stark, or should I say, the ghost of the north. I heard about your arrival, but I didn't expect you to bring the bandits with you so quickly. It's always an honor to receive you, young Stark," Lord Hornwood said with a smile.
"Thank you for your kind words, Lord Hornwood. But now, please take care of these bandits. My group and I need to eat and rest before returning to Winterfell," I said, smiling but tired from the journey.
"Of course, take all the time you need, and thank you for your assistance. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Lord Hornwood said, bowing slightly to show his respect.
"Thank you, my lord. Now, if you'll excuse us," I said, shaking his hand before returning to our accommodations.
As I walked to my room, I thought about the future. I improved at controlling my insects, and my archery skills were unmatched in the North.
However, I knew the dangers were far from over. The South watched my every move, and it wouldn't be long before I had to defend the North from threats beyond bandits and raiders. For now, I would focus on strengthening the North and my abilities. The time to face my enemies was approaching, and I would be ready.