Jon stood at the bow of the Fury, looking out over the ocean. He had never been on a ship, but the motion wasn't that much different then being on horseback. Of course, the sea was calm now. Ser Davos joked that being on a ship was far different than being on a horse because a horse will usually toss you backwards. On a ship being swamped by twenty and thirty foot waves, you would be thrown in all directions.
Davos Seaworth was the oddest knight Jon had ever come across. Wendel and Wylis Manderly were what Jon expected knights to be. Strong, honorable, and brave, equipped with the best armor and weapons. Ser Davos Seaworth looked like the furthest thing from a knight, but perhaps was the closest thing to a perfect knight. Father had told him all about the Onion Knight, the former smuggler who had slipped past the Redwyne Fleet and braved Shipbreaker Bay to bring food to the starving people of Storm's End. That sort of unselfish bravery was the sort of thing the knights in Sansa's stories always had.
Ser Davos was like that. He was humble and honest, extremely modest as well. There was an instant likeability to him that came from the fact that he didn't hold himself about anyone else. Of course, he showed difference to Father and Lady Stark, along with Arya and Rickon. But even though he was the ship's captain and barked orders at his crew, he still treated every man fairly.
"You spend a lot of time up here, lad." Davos said, surprising Jon.
The Bastard of Winterfell nodded greeting to the other man. "There's not much to do on a ship but watch the sea go by, is there?"
Seaworth grunted. "Aye, fair enough. No sparring with Lord Stark?"
Jon and his father spent almost two hours a day in the middle of the deck with practice swords in their hands, going back and forth. It was good for Jon because he was facing someone with far more experience then him, and it was good for his father because Jon was young and fast, forcing him to keep up.
After Jon and his father were done, Arya would do her lessons with her dancing teacher, Syrio Forel. He had found some very inventive ways to train Arya, and Lady Stark had gone pale more than once watching her daughter scramble up and down the rigging. But Jon had learned that Syrio never did anything without purpose and Arya was soaking in every lesson.
"I haven't seen him today." Jon answered. "He and Lady Stark broke their fast in their cabin."
"The young lady is doing very well." Davos complimented, looking over his shoulder where Syrio and Arya were training. "Braavosi Water Dancing is very difficult."
"Aye, and far deadlier than any fighting form that we have here in Westeros." Jon added, turning to look at the master and apprentice. "I was tempted to spar with Syrio, but my father told me that it wasn't a good idea. The man supposedly took down half a dozen men and a kingsguard with a wooden sword."
"Impressive." Davos grunted. "Though I dunno about the kingsguard. Lord Stannis always complained that King Robert's kingsguard were political appointments. Not good knights like Ser Barristan."
"Could be right." Jon said. He glanced around at the ocean. "Do you know where we are?"
"Based on the stars I saw last night, I'd say somewhere off the Fingers." Davos answered immediately. "I say we'll reach Gulltown in a day or two."
"I thought we're heading for Maidenpool?"
"Indeed. Maidenpool is little less than a day's sail from Gulltown, if the winds are with us." Ser Davos explained. "From there, it should be just a two day ride to King's Landing."
"More." Father said, walking up to them. "We have three thousand men marching on foot with us."
"My lord." Davos said, bowing.
"Father." Jon greeted.
"Jon, grab Arya and meet me in my quarters." Father ordered, nodding to Ser Davos before walking away to talk to Osha.
Jon nodded to Ser Davos as well before walking over to his sister. Arya was soaked in sweat, and Jon knew that she was in for an unpleasant and cold wash later in the day. Even though Lady Stark had accepted what Arya was becoming, there had been many compromises made as well. One was washing after each training session.
"Jon." Arya said, wiping some stray hairs away from her face.
"Father wants us." Jon said, nodding to Syrio.
"I'm almost done." Arya protested.
"Go on." Syrio said. "Remember what I have said."
Arya bowed. "Of course."
Syrio took her sword and walked off, leaving the girl in Jon's care. Jon grinned and ruffled Arya's hair before laying a hand on her shoulder and leading her towards their father's quarters. Usually, Arya would be asking a thousand questions, but it seems like she was too tired to wonder why their father wanted them.
Jon knocked on the door.
"Come." Lady Stark called.
Jon opened the door and ushered Arya in before following. Lady Stark was seated at a table with four chairs. A bed large enough for two people was placed against the opposite wall. The quarters were sparsely furnished, but it was better compared to the hammocks that the sailors slept in below deck.
As soon as Arya was through the door, Lady Stark had dipped a napkin in some water and was wiping away the grim and sweat that had accumulated on her face. Arya made an annoyed expression, but stood still. It was another compromise that she had made with her mother.
When Lady Stark was done, she nodded to Jon. "Jon."
Jon bowed slightly to her. "My lady."
Their relationship had thawed tremendously since their conversation in the godswood at Riverrun. Lady Stark always referred to him as Jon, without any hidden venom. On the rare times they spoke, she was polite, though still reserved. Jon, on his part, was the very same and always referred to her 'Lady Stark' or 'my lady.'
"Good, you're both here." Father said, entering the room and closing the door behind him. "Sit."
"What's going on?" Arya asked, her curiosity breaking through her fatigue. "Why isn't Rickon here?"
"Rickon will be told eventually." Father answered. When everyone was seated, he folded his hand in front of him and had a look on his face which Jon knew well. He was going to have a hard conversation.
"It's time you," he said, looking at Lady Stark, "and Arya know the truth about Jon's birth."
Lady Stark sat up a little. "Don't you think this is a conversation that should be had without Arya?"
"I want to know!" Arya chimed in. "Jon's my brother."
Jon leaned back in his chair, neglecting to join the conversation. He had no problem with Arya knowing the same way he had no problem with Robb knowing. His birth, he knew, wouldn't change the relationship they had. They were still family.
"Jon, this is your story." Father said, forcing Jon into the discussion.
Jon looked at Arya before looking at Lady Stark. "My lady, I understand your feelings. All I can say is that I believe Arya is old enough to hear it."
"I don't need you all protecting me." Arya grumbled.
Jon shot her a look to be quiet before addressing Lady Stark again. "If it helps, there are parts of the story that will need to be told differently. I will change them."
Lady Stark gazed at Jon for a long moment before finally nodding. "Very well. Go on."
Jon nodded and took a moment to collect his thoughts. He glanced at his father, who simply nodded back at him. The message was clear: this was Jon's tale to tell. He could take as much time as he needed.
"I should say first that this story must stay between us." Jon started. "There are only three other men who know. That is Robb, Samwell Tarly, and Howland Reed."
"Why?" Arya asked, unable to help herself.
"Because it could put Jon and a lot of other people in danger." Father said seriously. "No more questions until after Jon is done."
Arya, hearing the tone of his voice, nodded quietly.
"I am tempted to start at the beginning." Jon said. "But I will tell you the truth here and now before explaining the events that led up to it."
"What is the truth?" Lady Stark asked quietly, looking between Jon and Father.
"I am the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen." Jon said softly. He wasn't looking at Lady Stark, or Arya or Father. He was staring down at the table top. "It started at the Tourney of Harrenhal. Rhaegar saw something in Lyanna….he was obsessed with a prophecy about a prince that would save the world from a great darkness, and that prince would sing a song of ice and fire. He also believed that the 'dragon must have three heads'. Since his wife, Elia Martell, nearly died with their second child, he thought that Lyanna was the missing piece he needed. I'm not sure what he was thinking but that's the best way I can explain it."
The cabin was entirely silent, and Jon refused to look up. He wasn't sure why, but he refused to look up. He continued in the same soft tone that he had started the story in.
"He convinced Lyanna to run away with him. Perhaps she saw it as a way to escape her marriage with Robert Baratheon, or perhaps it was something else, but she went with Rhaegar to the Tower of Joy in Dorne. Things went south when Lyanna heard of her family's death in King's Landing." Jon explained, careful not to outright mention the murder of Lady Stark's former betrothed. He took a deep breath before going on. "She wanted to leave, and Rhaegar wouldn't let her. Howland said that he knew that he was too far gone, that he was too invested in the prophecy. He….forced himself on her and got her with child."
Jon stopped after that, breathing slow. He wasn't sure why he was having a hard time telling the story, but when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder, he kept going, determined to finish the tale.
"The war happened, and Rhaegar left her at the tower to fight Robert." Jon continued. "As you know, Father went south with his men and fought the three kingsguard who guarded Lyanna. Gerold Hightower, Owell Whent, and Arthur Dayne. When he found Lyanna….she had just given birth and was dying. She asked him to name him….name me. To give me an honorable name. He chose Jon, after Jon Arryn."
"Why?" Lady Stark asked. She had stayed silent the entire time Jon spoke, and even though he wasn't looking at her, he knew that the question wasn't for him.
"He was Rhaegar's son." Father said. They were all speaking in quiet voices. Serious conversations had that effect on people.
"I was afraid of what Robert would do. And if not him, Tywin."
"You never told me." Lady Stark said, sounding hurt.
"I never told anyone." Father responded. "The only ones who knew were myself and Howland, and I was content to bring that to my grave if it meant that Jon was safe."
"What does this mean?" Arya asked. "Is Jon still my brother?"
"Yes." Jon said instantly, looking up for the first time. Arya looked to be holding back tears, while Lady Stark looked both hurt and sad. Father just had that same grim look that he had when he had told Jon to tell the story.
"I do not acknowledge Rhaegar as my true father. I don't know him and he did not raise me." Jon explained. "My father is Eddard Stark."
"So what does that make you?" Arya asked. "Is Aunt Lyanna still your mother?"
Jon thought for a moment before answering. "Rhaegar and Lyanna are still my parents, Arya, but I do not and will not call them such. Father is my father, because he raised me as his son. Does that make sense?"
Arya nodded slowly. "So you're still my brother?"
Jon smiled slightly. "Yes, I am still your brother."
While Jon and Arya spoke, Lady Stark began to cry softly and she was unable to look in Jon's direction. Both Jon and Father noticed this.
"Arya, go wash." Father ordered. "And remember what Jon said. You cannot talk about this with anyone."
"Not even Syrio?" Arya asked.
"Not even Syrio." Father said. "Remember. Something like this….it put a lot of people in danger."
"How?" Arya asked. For how mature and perceptive Arya was, there were still things that she didn't fully understand.
"People will try and kill me." Jon said quietly, feeling like honesty was the best answer. "This is information that can cause a lot of people to get angry and to fight and die stupidly, me and Robb and Father and others included."
Arya nodded. "Ok."
"Thank you." Father said. "Now go and wash."
When Arya left, Jon, Lady Stark, and Father remained where they were, waiting. Jon wasn't sure what to say. He had spoken his piece, and Lady Stark had reacted how she did, but Father had sent Arya away for a reason and now Jon just had to wait and find out why.
"I'm sorry." Lady Stark said finally. "I'm so sorry."
Jon nodded awkwardly. "It's ok, my lady." he responded gently. "You didn't know."
"I was terrible to you." Lady Stark sobbed. "All because…." she didn't finish her sentence, choking up.
Jon nodded again. "I understand."
"I'm also sorry." Father said, looking at his wife. "I should have told you sooner."
Jon was now caught in the middle of something he didn't know how to dissect himself from. After another minute of listening to Lady Stark cry and Father's sad presence beside him, he decided to bring the matter to a head. He had a decent idea of why Lady Stark was angry.
"My lady." Jon said. "You don't have to be sorry. You didn't know and I don't hold any ill feelings towards you."
"But….but I admitted that I hated you." Lady Stark said, looking at Jon through tearful eyes. "I looked in your eye and told you!"
Jon nodded slowly. "You did, and I still don't blame you."
"How?" Lady Stark asked.
Jon hesitated before shaking his head. "I'm not sure. You said that you couldn't find it within yourself to like me. I can't find it within myself to hate you. I wish I had a better answer."
"Thank you." Lady Stark sniffed.
Jon nodded, getting up from his seat. "My lady, father." he said, bowing slightly to them both before striding out.