Gerion shifted his weight as he continued. "Sheer luck, and that is the best answer that I can give. If two Force sensitives have a child, then it is almost guaranteed the child will be Force sensitive as well. The same is true if only a single parent is Force sensitive, though Nox did note that if the Force sensitive is on the weaker side then the odds of any offspring with a non-Force sensitive individual goes down to about a flip of a coin. However, there are rare, and he stressed rare, occurrences where two non-Force sensitive individuals will give birth to a Force sensitive one. So, in all honesty, it was sheer luck that I was apparently born with these powers and the rest of you were not."
"Yet, like our brother said Gerion, I've never seen you do anything that this sorcerer is rumored to be able to do," Genna added, bringing the conversation back around. "Why is that? Surely, you haven't been hiding this magic, have you?"
"No, I haven't sister," Gerion replied. "Apparently if an individual who is born with these powers never receives instructions on how to use them, it is probable that they will live their entire life in ignorance of what they can do. And according to Nox, this instruction must occur while the individual is still young. Why I'm not entirely sure, but Nox said that it has to do with the mind of a youngster being able to adapt more readily to this power. If they too long to learn how to use the Force, then it is possible for the power to go dormant."
So they were on a timetable then. "So, because you apparently beat the odds and were born with the ability to use this 'Force', then it is likely that any offspring you have will be able to use the Force," Tywin summed up. "Which is why you believe that your daughter might be able to use the Force. Is there a way that you can tell?"
"No. Not unless she does something obvious right in front of me," Gerion answered with a sigh. "The only one who can tell right now is Nox. And perhaps Jon Snow as well. If Joy does have the ability to use the Force, the only way to find out will be to send her to Winterfell and have the sorcerer test her. And if she passes his tests, then she will need to remain in Winterfell in order to learn how to utilize her powers."
The information was quite promising. Sending Joy to Winterfell with the intention of her becoming one of the sorcerer's acolytes was an easy method for getting more Lannister eyes on what was going on in the North and gain an insight into Nox's methods. And sending Joy North to be tested wouldn't be without precedence either. Lords and Ladies from across the land had been throwing their sons at the sorcerer for years, hoping that he would take an interest in them. And from the stories he'd told so far, Gerion apparently had a report with the sorcerer. Both angles would need to be leveraged to get a Lannister a prolonged stay in Winterfell. And this also provided him with another opportunity as well. But the plan wasn't without risk. It would have to be firmly installed in Joy's mind that no matter what, family came first. She was a Lannister. Not a Stark or a Nox. The last thing House Lannister needed was for one of their own to turn their back on them.
"You will send a raven to the sorcerer in the morning, Gerion, informing him of your intentions on bringing Joy to the North to have her tested to see if she has this 'Force'." Tywin ordered. "And you will go with them, Tyrion."
"Me?" Tyrion gaped like a fool. "Why? Not that I'm complaining, bu-"
"You've proven yourself to be quite clever over the past few years. Now I am giving you a chance to prove just how clever you are." Tywin cut in, not wanting to listen to Tyrion stutter. "The North has grown substantially in wealth over the past few years due to various exports that they have begun crafting in mass. Their glass production is their primary source of coin, but they have also made a significant amount off their new smelting process, their exotic food production and now this new medicine that can apparently cure greyscale. During your stay in Winterfell while Joy is being tested by the sorcerer, you will do everything in your power to learn what you can of these new processes and bring them back here to Casterly Rock so that we can begin duplicating them."
Tyrion bit his lip in a nervous tell that he would have to eliminate soon if he was to be of any use in the future. "That is quite the task. You're asking me to all but steal the secrets of the sorcerer."
"Not steal. House Lannister does not steal. We are merely going to begin our own processes using what the Starks have spent years of effort and coin on to create." Tywin countered. "House Lannister must begin seeking ventures outside of our mines if we are to retain our position."
It was a piece of information that Tywin did not want to share, as it would project weakness to the other Houses. But none of their gold mines had managed to find any new significant veins of gold in years. House Lannister wasn't broke, not by a long shot. But the staple upon which their House had risen to power was no longer as easily to obtain. He'd put a great deal of effort into making sure that this knowledge did not become known and for years he'd been successful. But it would only be a matter of time before word got out. And once it did, House Lannister needed to be known for something other than their gold mines if they would survive in the long run.
"Well," Tyrion breathed, slapping the arms of his chair. "I suppose I will need to begin crafting quite the story to spin if I'm to slip one past Lord Stark and Lord Nox. Any ideas?"
"I'm sure that you will figure something out." Tywin replied dismissively. "Now leave me. I have work to be done and am losing light. Gerion, I want to read over the raven you will be sending to the sorcerer and Lord Stark when we break our fast in the morning."
Used to his dismissals, his siblings and Tyrion all immediately got to their feet and left. But despite what he'd said to them, he did not start working right away. Instead, he allowed a slight grin to appear as he thought of the future. 'Joy will succeed. That girl has always been different. And now I know why. She will spend a few years learning what she can from the sorcerer, and after she flowers, I will send her instructions to begin seducing the boy Jon Snow using any means necessary. They will wed. And she will start giving birth to children that will have this power, this Force. And then House Lannister will rise higher than ever before.'
But as pleasant as the thought was, it was still just a single plan. And Tywin was not one to place all his coin on a single plan. He needed a backup plan as well. And a third plan as well. He would not rest until this strange Force power resided within House Lannister, where it belonged.
Standing upon his balcony in the Sorcerer's Tower of Winterfell, Nox let his senses wander over the bustling courtyard below trying to take a moment to just relax. The past week since they'd finally returned to Winterfell had been a whirlwind of never-ending exhaustion for both the inhabitants of Winterfell and its visitors. The fair had gone over well, almost unbelievably so. Small folk from all over the North had made the journey to Winterfell, lured in by the prospect of being able to showcase what they could do in front of many different Lords and perchance even earn the Lords and Ladies of the North favor. A feeling that was heightened when Robb announced that the small folk would be able to partake in some of the games that would be held during the week. Which had led to a truly surprising development as a simple woodcutter from the lands of House Glover defeated the Greatjon himself in a log throwing contest. Instead of being offended though, the Lord of Last Hearth had instead invited the man and his family personally to the great hall that night to feast and drink and celebrate the man's victory.
Outside of the games though, there was unfortunately little that the small folk offered in terms of advancements. One netmaker woman had crafted a new weave, which increased the tensile strength of the fishing nets, allowing them to garner a greater haul before breaking. And another man from the lands owned by House Karstark had shown his idea for a gravity fed watering system for smaller farms. Both useful, but hardly groundbreaking. At least to Nox anyway.
The one that had really caught his eye however was a family from the lands of House Forrester. During the previous winter they had stumbled upon a sweet maple tree and had begun harvesting its sap after they discovered that it was edible. After a few years of experimentation with the aid of House Forrester, the family was able to create a rudimentary simple syrup, which was an immediate hit with the Lords and Ladies. A sweetener, any sweetener, was a highly sought-after commodity. And therefore, it was expensive. With but a single taste, Ned had offered the family whatever assistance they needed in order to expand their work and begin the process of planting more of the trees that created the sap.
While the presentations of the small folk were only mildly interesting at best, the same could not be said of the presentations given by the students of Winterfell's college; led by Samwell Tarly and their newest member Talisa Maegyr. Talisa's presentation had been easy enough for Nox to predict. The lady from Volantis had presented her and Nox's cure for greyscale, including going into an in-depth explanation of the how and why it worked, which he was sure went over most of the assembled nobles' heads. But while the specifics may have gone over their heads, the implications did not. Greyscale was considered one of the worst, most contagious sicknesses in all the known world. To have a cure readily available was astounding.
Samwell, the other students and Maester Luwin had all worked together to present the second display the College put on. Well before he'd left for Valyria, he'd planted an idea into Samwell and Luwin's head about gears and automation. And he was more than pleased to see that the two had taken to the idea like a fish in water. And in less than seven months, the group had gone from theorizing to creating a basic steam engine in the form of an atmospheric engine. The engine itself stood over two grown men tall and required specific timing to work the values in order to introduce the steam and to vent the steam so that piston would move. It was rudimentary, but a huge step forward. At least to Nox who could understand its worth anyway.
The nobles were not all that impressed at first. All they saw was an overcomplicated system to move a pump handle up and down. But then Luwin and Samwell showed how the machine could create a pump system to help clear water out of mines. That had garnered some interest, but it was when Samwell showed off their last invention that the full implications of the steam engine could take hold. Sam had created a bicycle. Or rather quad cycle as he had modified a small one-man wagon for this demonstration. He'd crafted a gear system over the front axel of the wagon, which was connected with a chain to a secondary gear that was had a pair of peddles on either side just beneath where the wagon driver would sit. After situating himself in the wagon, and with no small amount of effort, Sam had managed to get the wagon moving forward without a horse, using the power of his legs only by peddling.
After displaying the moving wagon, Luwin then went on to explain how the gear system worked and why it could move without horses. And then presented what they were hoping to achieve in the long run. They were hoping to work on bringing the steam engine down to small scale and then attaching it to a wagon that had the gear system on it. The piston of the engine would then be used to 'peddle' the wagon. And once they could achieve that, they would have the first horseless wagon. Capable of continuously running if there was enough heat and water to keep the piston moving.
The idea of a horseless carriage completely floored almost everyone in attendance. And almost as soon as the presentation was finished, the members of Winterfell's College were bombarded with questions from the nobles as they all but demanded to know when the first working unit would be available and how they could go about procuring it for themselves.
'A definite step in the right direction,' he thought as he let his senses wander over the steam engine, which was still garnering a lot of attention from just about everyone even days after it'd been displayed. While Nox had planted the original idea for the steam engine in the minds of his students before he left, he honestly couldn't take hardly any credit for its creation. While he knew the basic principles of a steam-piston engine, the design was just too..simple. He was used to working on the level of technology that involved hyperdrive engines, not simple machines that had been outdated for potentially tens of thousands of years. But now that they had created the very basic of engines, he was ready to offer a few ideas for modifications that would increase efficiency, decrease its size and increase its output. The only problem was, as it was with the original concept of the steam engine, it was still too simple. He would be able to present the ideas, but it would be up to Luwin and the students of the College to truly figure out how to put them into practice.
With all the presentations shown and the offers from the various Lords and Ladies having been made, the fair was steadily winding down. But that didn't mean that people were leaving. Not yet anyway. For there were still two more events that the nobles and small folk alike wanted to either attend or even just catch a glimpse of. One of which was Robb Stark's nameday celebration, which would be happening in two nights and would mark the end of the fair. But the other event was the one that would be taking place tonight. Nox's wedding to Nyra.
Despite having asked her weeks ago for her hand and with the day now upon them, Nox was still trying to wrap his mind around just how they got to this point. When he'd first met her years ago, he'd found a keen mind just waiting to be unleashed. And the fact that she was just a mere servant was all the better. By taking her under his wing and raising her to the rank of a pseudo-noble, he had instilled a sense of hope into the small folk that if they worked hard that they too could reach her level. And his plan had worked. The small folk all looked up too and admired Nyra for all that she had accomplished over the years. Sure, there were some that still whispered she was nothing more than a 'noble-hunter', but she didn't let those comments get to her. She knew who she was, and she wasn't about to let anyone's thinking change that. It was one of the many qualities that had attracted him to her in the first place. And now, here they were, seven years after their first meeting about to officially become husband and wife.
The small folk were not the only ones who were excited about the marriage either. Almost every Lord and Lady that was visiting had taken the time to congratulate them both. Some more enthusiastically than others as Nox was sure there were more than a few sore Ladies that were still holding out hope that he would pick them as his bride. But of all the enthusiastic reactions, none was greater than Sansa's. The eldest daughter of Ned was practically swooning every time the marriage was brought up. No doubt that to her, this seemed like the greatest romantic fable come to life. A sorcerer who comes to a foreign land, makes a name for himself, earns a title, raises a mere serving girl to the rank of a noble lady, and then takes her as his wife. It was fairly cliché and romantic now that he thought about it.
Sansa had been having the time of her life this week working with Nyra, and to a lesser extent Lady Stark, to plan out every facet of the wedding celebration. She'd even taken to personally sewing Nyra's maiden's cloak and the cloak that Nox would put on her shoulders at the conclusion of the ceremony. For her cloak, as she did not have a House, the grey wolf of House Stark was sewn onto the back, representing Nyra as a vassal to House Stark. And for Nox, his cloak had the black sun with the two triple-peaked mountains laying sideways, and old symbol for the Sith Lords that Nox had always taken a liking too. And outside of Sansa and the small folk, the bards were also having a field day with the wedding. He'd already heard at least two or three different traveling bards that'd come to Winterfell in hopes of coin by working on crafting a song to commemorate their union.
Sensing his Apprentice crossing the courtyard below with his brother, Nox focused in on the duo as they made their way towards the entrance to the catacombs. No doubt to meet up with their father and Lady Stark who had entered the catacombs just a few minutes prior to their arrival. 'It's finally time,' he thought, sensing the two descend into the depths of the Stark's final resting place. 'I suppose that I should get ready for the inevitable fallout then. Force only knows how Jon is going to react to what Ned has to tell him.'
Standing before the statues of his lost family deep within the crypts of Winterfell, Ned Stark was doing everything he could to try and calm his racing heart. It was no lie to say that he was dreading what was about to happen. In another life, he would've never even considered having this conversation at all to spare himself and others the pain that he knew it would bring about. But that was neither here nor there, and he realized now that his refusal to speak would've been worse than not speaking at all. 'Father. Brother. Sister,' he thought to himself, staring at the three Starks that lost their lives during the fall of the Targaryen reign. 'Give me strength and guidance to find the words that need to be said this day. And may one day may my family find the strength to forgive my silence.'
"Ned?"
Swallowing, Ned turned his gaze away from the statues of his family and found his wife of the past three-and-ten years standing just a short distance away from him. The soft glow of the torches illuminating her face. Gods, she was indeed beautiful. Even after all these years. "Cat," he nodded, not sure what further to say as she came up beside him and glanced towards the statues depicting the lost Starks.
He knew, just like the godswood, that Cat never truly felt comfortable down in the crypts. Though why, she would not say. And, if he were being honest, this was not necessarily the place he wanted this conversation to take place. But in all of Winterfell, there was no better place for such a discussion to occur. With very few exceptions, no one save for the Starks were allowed into the crypts. And with so many of his bannerman around, this was the safest place to speak freely. 'I almost considered waiting until they all left before saying what needed to be said,' he thought, glancing towards his father. 'But I know that if I did, then when the time came again, I would simply find another excuse to delay this. No. It is far better for this to happen here and now rather than later. The boys are old enough. They will understand. As will Cat. I hope.'
"Ned," Cat called out softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
"Aye," Ned nodded, trying to draw strength from the simple gesture, fearful that once he'd said his piece that it would be sometime before he could feel such comfort from here again. "Though for how much longer that will remain true, I do not know."
Pulling away from his wife, Ned turned and faced down the path leading towards the surface as he felt, and heard, his two sons approaching. 'Such a strange sensation,' he thought as he watched Jon and Robb slowly approach himself and Cat. 'To be able to feel when someone you know is close without having to see or hear them. Truly, this power Nox has awakened in the North is indeed a gift from the gods.'
"Father, mother," Robb greeted the two of them with Jon staying just slightly behind him. "Is everything alright?"
"Aye," Ned nodded, a weight heavier than the Wall itself pressing down on his shoulders as he realized he now had nowhere left to turn. It was time to reveal the truth. And may the gods give his sons the strength to understand just why he did what he had.
"Then, what's going on?" Robb pressed. "Has something happened? Is the fair not going as well as you'd hoped?"
"No. Your fair is exceeding my expectations son," Ned replied, trying to reassure Robb. "I asked you three to come and speak with me here because what is about to be said between the three of us must remain between us. Is that understood?"
Both of his sons blinked, clearly startled by the tone of his voice. A tone that he had never used in front of the two of them. Cat wasn't any better as she was clearly trying, and failing, to work out just why he had asked for them specifically.
"I swear on the old gods father, whatever you have to say will not leave us," Robb swore, with Jon mimicking his oath almost immediately.
Turning his head to Cat, he could tell that she wasn't pleased with what was going on, but she nodded her consent despite her obvious reservations. "There are truths that you three must know. Truths that have been hidden for a long time. Truths that once spoken, cannot be taken back. And should they leave the four of us, then it could spell disaster for not just us, but our family as well."
"Fa – Lord Stark," Jon corrected himself with a quick glance towards Cat. "Should…Should I be here for this?"
"Aye, you should Jon. For this concerns you most of all," he said cryptically before taking a breath and mentally preparing himself for the plunge he was about to take. "I have lied to you three and indeed the realm for three-and-ten years. At first, it was to protect our family and I swore that one day I would stop the lie. But as the years passed, it became harder and harder to say the words. It is only now, as you two are entering the cusp of manhood that I have once again found the strength to say what needs to be said."
Turning away from his sons and wife, he faced the statues of his lost family. 'Father, bother…sister. Give me strength.' "Jon, this truth revolves around you. For your entire life, I have claimed you as my bastard son. That was a lie. You have the Stark blood Jon. But you are not my son."
He could feel the air move as Catelyn gasped, her head turning rapidly from the statues of his family to Jon. Jon, though… Jon merely took a step back, unsure of what to say but a look of fear growing on his face.
"Brandon?" Cat stated. "He's…Brandon's son, isn't he?"
"No," Ned denied, the lump growing in his throat as he could feel the fear, the want of denial rising from Jon. "Jon is the son of my sister, Lyanna Stark."
The color drained from Cat's face as she quickly made the connection. Robb, still trying to work out the connection, kept looking back and forth between Jon and the statue of Lyanna. And Jon…Jon didn't say anything. Instead he backed away from Ned and the others until his back hit the far wall and he slowly slide down until he was on the ground and buried his head in his hands. "My…My father. He – He was…"
"Aye," Ned nodded. "Your father was Rhaegar Targaryen."
Ned had been expecting several reactions from Jon upon learning of his true parentage. Shouting and anger being the most prevalent among his reactions. But what he had not expected was for Jon to just simply sit there, as if his mind was no longer able to function. Marching up to the front of his sisters resting place, Ned went to one knee and began loosening a hidden panel at the base of her statue. Pulling it open to reveal a small hiding place, he reached inside and pulled out a small box. He knew without even needing to open it what was within. After all, he'd been the one to place everything inside years ago before sealing it away. Opening the box, he glanced at the various papers laying within before pulling out a thin leather-bound journal. His sister's last words to her son. She had left him a similar one as well, one that he had destroyed shortly after reading it for fear of it falling into the wrong hands.
"Your mother, my sister," Ned began, closing the lid on the box. There would be time for him to go through papers on another day. He could tell that Jon needed to see this first and foremost. "She left this for you, Jon. I don't know exactly what is within but… It is her last words to you."
Lifting his head from his hands, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, Jon stared at the small book in his hand. With a shaky hand, Jon slowly reached out and took the book from him, staring at the leather cover as if it were about to spawn two heads and start talking.
"Jon," Robb called out tentatively, talking a step towards his brother in all but name, "Jon, are you—?"
His question when unfinished as Jon shot up from his spot, almost running into Ned as he did so, before turning away from Ned and the others and all but running away from them towards the exit. His departure was so sudden and unexpected that neither Ned, Cat, nor Robb were able to stop him before he could disappear into the darkness of the catacombs. Robb was the first to come back to his senses as he began marching after Jon the moment he went out of sight.
"Robb…" Cat called out tentatively, bringing his eldest son to a halt.
"I'm going after my brother," Robb said with a conviction that Ned had rarely heard from his son. "No matter who his mother or father is, no matter his name or status, Jon is still my brother. And he will always have a place by my side. And I will always stay by his!"
Seeing that Cat was about to say something further, Ned shot her a look that stilled the words on her tongue as Robb continued to chase his brother out of the catacombs. 'That didn't necessarily go as bad as I thought. But it certainly did not go as I would have hoped. Though, from the look on Cat's face, it is far from over.'
With their son no longer in sight, Cat turned her full attention to him, her eyes and face full of hurt and anguish. "You lied to me Ned…for three-and-ten years you have lied! Why? Why did you not tell me? Why…just…why?"
"To protect him, and all of us," Ned answered without hesitation.
"To protect him and us?" Cat repeated. "From whom?"
"Robert, Tywin Lannister and anyone who would seek to use Jon to try and reclaim the Iron Throne for the Targaryen's."
Cat took a few long moments of silence to gather her thoughts as she visibly tried to work out what he'd said with what she knew. "I can understand wanting to protect him from Tywin and the loyalists, but why Robert? Surely, he would not have brought harm to Jon. In fact, had you just told the King about the boy, he could've ensured that no harm would come to him while removing him from the line of succession."
Ned wanted to smack his head against the stone wall of the catacombs. He loved Cat, she was a wonderful mother and a good Lady of Winterfell. But, gods, sometimes he feared that she was far too naive in some matters.
"You weren't there, Cat," Ned sighed, running a hand through his hair. "That day in the throne room when Tywin had the bodies of Elia, Aegon, and Rhaenys laid out before Robert, covered in blood and wrapped in Lannister red. Robert didn't berate Tywin or even punish those responsible. He merely looked down at the three corpses, two of which were but babes, and smiled. Then he laughed. He laughed and said that he saw no babies, only dragonspawn. That they deserved to burn in all Seven hells just for the sin of being born! And that any and all born to the Targaryen line deserved the same fate, or worse!"
Realizing that his voice had been steadily raising, Ned took a moment to compose himself. Gods, over three-and-ten years later and the memory could still invoke an anger unlike any within him. "Robert loved Lyanna, or at least the idea of her. I'd even go so far as to say that he was obsessed with her. To learn that she'd had a child with Rhaegar Targaryen, he would've stopped at nothing to ensure that the babe was killed in the most violent manner possible. And how do you think the Northern Lords would've responded? There was already a growing discontent amongst our bannerman regarding Robert's behavior during the Rebellion. Everyone respected Robert's prowess on the battlefield, but off the field? He would continuously say that he was fighting to reclaim his lost love that'd been stolen by Rhaegar, but in the next breath he would be bedding every camp follower he could find. And then after the Sack of King's Landing, the fate of Elia and her children, coupled with Robert's unwillingness to punish those responsible, that discontent only grew.
"And Lyanna was beloved by the North, the 'She-Wolf of the North' they called her. If I had revealed Jon's true parentage, they wouldn't have cared for who his father was, though they would want to keep a close eye on him. They would only care that he was a Stark. Robert on the other hand…he would've demand that I hand the boy over to be killed. And what do you think my bannermen's reactions to that would be? They would promptly tell Robert where to shove his order and immediately take to arms, and the war would start anew. So yes, I lied. I claimed Jon as my bastard son to protect him from those who would seek to either use him or kill him. And I lied to prevent another war from starting."
Biting her lip, Cat went silent as she took in everything he laid out before her. "I – I understand, Ned," she breathed as a weight almost seemed to lift from her shoulder. "Yet what I can't understand is why you did not tell me? Even after all this time. Why did you keep this from me?"
"At first, it was because I did not know you, Cat," Ned answered honestly as he held up a hand to stop her retort so he could continue. "I had met you only once prior to our marriage at Harrenhal. And over time, I doubted whether I would ever even reveal this secret as it could potentially bring calamity down upon us. And should that happen, I wanted you and our children to be able to deny that you knew anything of my deception to save you. I realize now my folly, my love. And I pray that one day you will be able to forgive me."
Cat looked on the verge of tears, though not necessarily from sadness. "Then…you did not betray me?"
"No," Ned replied, shaking his head. "Ever since we said our vows and I put my cloak around your shoulders, there has been no other."
"What about…her?"
Now it was his turn to turn away. There was no need to ask just who Cat was speaking about. "No more lies, Cat. Ashara and I laid together at Harrenhal and I was going to write to my father once I had returned to the Vale to ask for her hand. But that changed when I married you. And I did not touch her again. And as far as I know, no child came of our time in Harrenhal."
He could hear Cat trying, and failing, to stifle her tears behind him. "I – Thank you, Ned. I – I need time, but…but I still love you."
Turning back, he gently wrapped Cat in his arms. She didn't respond, but that didn't surprise him in the least all things considered. "I understand, Cat," he nodded, stepping back from her. "Take what time you need. I will wait for you."
Nodding, Cat moved to step past him, only to stop. "What – What if Jon now decides that he no longer wants to remain here in the North? What if he wants the throne? How will you respond?"
It was a fair question, and one that Ned honestly did not have an answer to. But Ned had faith in his son. "Cat, think of Jon, not as a bastard, but as the young boy that has been raised alongside our children his entire life. Think beyond what you have been told as to the 'nature of a bastard' and think only of the nature that Jon has shown us his whole life. And then answer me this. Do you truly think that Jon would put his siblings' lives in danger just so that he could sit on the Iron Throne?"
Cat didn't answer, she just stood there beside him looking down the length of the catacombs towards the path leading to the surface. "No, he would not," she just barely whispered before marching away from him. "And I'll pray to the Seven that it remains so."
Kneeling in the middle of his private meditation chamber, Nox slipped into a meditative trance as he waited for the inevitable fallout from the conversation he knew that his Apprentice was currently having with his father. The moment he felt his sense's stretch out; he was almost immediately struck with a slight disturbance in the Force. The same type of disturbance that'd been plaguing him since they had banished the dark entity from Valyria all those months ago. It was an odd sensation to say the least. Like a bright spot in the corner of one's eye that would disappear the moment one tried to look for it. It'd been a persistent ache for him for months. And it had been creeping up with more and more frequency ever since they'd stepped foot back onto Northern soil. 'It has to be whatever controls these 'Others',' he theorized. 'I have a feeling that whatever these creatures are, they have some sort of Force sensitivity. They've more than likely sensed my presence the moment I crash-landed here years ago. And with the destruction of the dark entity in Valyria, which these Others clearly wanted to gain control of based on the vision I had, they now know that I'm a threat. But what is this annoying disturbance that just won't leave? It's a sense of danger but diluted. Unsure. Are they making their move? Perhaps. Which means getting the Wildlings south of the Wall before they can be eradicated and added to the ranks of walking dead the Others have at their command.'
His concentration was abruptly shattered and the vision was sent fleeing as the door to the chamber nearly came off its hinges as his clearly unstable Apprentice all but ran into the room. Anger, confusion and hurt screaming from every aspect of his being. "You – you knew!"
'I see he didn't take it very well,' Nox sighed as he got up to his feet and turned towards his irate Apprentice. "If you are referring to the fact that Lord Stark is not the man who sired you, then yes. I knew."
He could feel Jon's anger practically radiating off him. "How long? How long have you been lying to me?"
"Lying?" Nox questioned, shaking his head. "My Apprentice, I have never once lied to you. Have you ever heard me refer to you as Eddard Stark's direct son? Hm? No, I haven't. And as for how long I've known, I knew almost immediately that, while you two share a familial connection, you are not directly related. With that established, it took me all of maybe a week or two of reading through this land's recent history to figure out just who your mother and father were."
Taking a step back, Jon's anger faltered slightly. "You – you can tell that just from looking at someone?! Why haven't you taught any of us that skill?!"
"Because it is infinitely more complicated than simply 'looking at someone'," Nox sighed. "For starters, both individuals need to be side by side and both have a decent Force sensitivity for me to ascertain parentage or not. Then the two Force signatures will resonate with one another in a certain fashion. And the only reason I even know what to look for is because in the Sith Empire, one could rise from nothing like myself, Sith ancestry and family was highly coveted. And those who had the skill to sense the Force resonances between two individuals were treated almost like kings because they could tell familial connections and even ancestry to a certain degree. Lord Stark, despite his powers being most dormant, is strong in the Force. And so are you Apprentice. When you two stood next to one another that first time I met you both your presences echoed off one another in a familial fashion, but not in a manner that one would except between a parent and child who were both Force sensitive."
Leaving breadcrumbs for Jon to learn of a new skill was usually a successful method of dispelling this young Apprentice's anger, and it almost worked this time. Almost. "You still knew!" Jon all but shouted. "For years! You knew that I – that I wasn't a Stark! And you never told me! Why?"
"Would it have changed anything had I told you the truth of your parentage?"
"Yes!" Jon immediately shouted, to which Nox just merely stared at the boy, making him shift his weight. "It – It would've changed—"
"It would've changed what?" Nox pressed, stepping towards Jon, waiting for his Apprentice to come up with something. "You can't think of anything can you? Because it would've changed absolutely nothing. It's no different than when you thought you were just a 'bastard'. You are not defined by some name. You are who you choose to be. And you are still the son of Eddard Stark."
Jon scoffed and looked away, "he's not my father."
Nox moved without even realizing it, the back of his hand connecting with the side of Jon's head hard enough to send the boy into a spinning fall. To his credit Jon tried to retaliate, key word being tried. With how unstable he was it was easy enough for Nox to knock aside any physical or Force attack Jon sent his way. And in the end, Jon was planted face first into the floor with Nox's boot on his back keeping him in place. "Had enough yet?" Nox growled, putting more pressure onto Jon's back.
Jon didn't cry out, nor beg. Nox had taught him better than that. A Sith didn't show weakness from pain. Instead, Jon raised his right hand with his index and middle finger extended outwards. A sign of surrender. Removing his boot from Jon's back Nox squatted down in front of his struggling Apprentice.
"Eddard Stark, is your father Jon." Nox said in a lighter tone, trying to get through to the boy. "A father is not denoted by the one who shot his seed into your mother. A father is one who loves you and raises you as if you were his own son. Eddard raised you alongside your cousins and gave you a home. He taught you how to fight. How to lead. He taught you the difference between right and wrong. If anyone, especially Robert, learned that your father was harboring a child of the Targaryen's, let alone Rhaegar's child, their past wouldn't have saved him. He could've taken the easy way out. He could've left you in the desert or with some unsuspecting small folk or even sent you to another keep to be raised. Yet he didn't. Because he loved your mother, his sister. And he loves you as well. Not just as his nephew. But as another son. Never forget that."
The sound of sniffling came from Jon, making Nox's cheek twitched. He'd never been good with all this gentle emotion stuff. Never had the chance too even care about the softer emotions. But he was learning. First through Ashara, now through Nyra. He just hoped he wasn't screwing things up further. "Am I," Jon sniffed, "is this, all I'm destined to be? A burden? I – I never wanted to be…I only ever wanted to be a Stark. To – To make my f -father proud."
Sitting down fully, Nox let out a breath. "He is proud of you, Jon, as am I." Jon's head shot up at that. "Not many have what it takes to go through what you did under my tutelage. Yet you did. And you excelled far beyond my expectations. And as for a name, have I told you before how I came to the name Darth Nox? I had another name before that one. But amongst the Sith, once you reach a certain level you cast aside your old name, who you used to be. And you become someone new. The reason we do this is in part to show that our past doesn't matter. All that matters is who we have chosen to become."
Holding out his hand, Nox wordlessly summoned the book that Jon had had in his hand when he first entered. "From your mother I take it?" He asked, to which Jon nodded. "Read it," he ordered, forcing the book back into Jon's hands. "The past is important Jon. But only so much so that we may learn from our mistakes. We are not bound by the mistakes or sins of our forebears. Learn from what happened and move past it Jon. Otherwise you will always be stuck."
Standing, Nox purposefully turned his back on his Apprentice and made his way out of his meditation chambers. It was a strange sensation, this wanting to help his young Apprentice through his emotional troubles. But this was a battle that Jon needed to fight on his own. And he was confident that his young Apprentice would come out better for it in the end.
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