Lies 3

Ned

He'd not seen Jon all day, well, apart from this afternoon when he spotted him, Rickon and Arya sparing in the godswood. He'd gone there to prey but changed his mind when he saw them. He'd told himself that he didn't want to disturb them.

That was partially true, he'd not seen Arya and Rick smile like that in years. However, as much as he tried to deny it, he just couldn't.

He was avoiding Jon. In the hopes of avoiding the talk he was dreading. And he'd managed to avoid it all day.

It was currently the hour of the wolf, the black of the night sky cast the whole of Winterfell in darkness. The air was cool and all that could be heard were his own footsteps.

Everybody was in bed, all the children had gone soon after supper along with Cat who was still sleeping in a separate room to him, the argument they'd had this morning had done nothing to help fix that.

Jon hadn't been at supper which had shamefully made him thankful, he'd asked Robb where he was and was told that he'd headed out into the Wolfswood for some alone time.

Even when avoiding him he was still wary about him disappearing again. Arya had seen the worry on his face and affirmed to him that Jon would be back.

He wished he had his daughter's confidence right about now.

He cupped his hands and blew his hot breath into them, the night had took a chilly turn as he walked towards his solar. He nodded at the guard who was on watch at the time.

"Has anyone been to see me?" He asked.

The guard straightened as he answered "No mi Lord, it's been quiet. Think everyone's asleep mi Lord." The guard said as Ned nodded and walked towards his solar door.

He shouldered the old wooden door to his private solar as he proceeded to unfasten his cloak. The room was in total darkness, completely pitch black. The servants had obviously forgotten to light any candles, he'd have to have a word with Vayon about that tomorrow.

He fumbled around the room, looking for the hook to hang his cloak on whilst squinting his eyes in concentration. He managed to find the hook and placed his furs on it before working on finding the flint and steel near the fireplace to light the candles himself.

He jumped out of his skin as the sound of steel striking flint resonated through the darkness. His eyes jolted towards the direction the noise came from as he saw Jon sat at his desk, striking sparks into a char cloth tin and lighting a candle with it.

"Looking for this?" Jon said as he held the flint and steel in one hand and a candle in the other. He placed the candle in its holder and tossed the flint and steel across the desk, the noise of the impact making him jump.

His heart rate calmed down as he came to grips with the situation he'd found himself in "Seven hells Jon! Are you tryin to kill me?" He asked as he grabbed the candle from the holder and worked it around the room, lighting all the candles he could see.

Not at all stalling what he deemed inevitable at this point.

He returned to the desk and placed the candle back where it came from, Jon was currently sat in his chair and seemed to make no effort in moving from his spot "What are you doing sneaking around at this ungodly hour?" He asked as he moved towards the side cabinet to pour himself some ale. "In fact, how did you get in? The guards said nobody had been." He finished, confused.

He turned and looked at Jon, catching the shrug of his shoulders "Not important." He said as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He was already in defence mode.

He shook his head and sighed as he leant against the cabinet "I wish you wouldn't do that." He said as he took a sip of his ale.

"Do what?" Jon replied. Closing his eyes and slowly rolling his neck in a circle.

"Playing my questions off as not being important." He said.

Jon's eyes opened at that as he stopped with his neck rolling "Compared to the reason why I'm here, it really isn't that important." He replied.

"I beg to differ, I think yo..."

"Go on then." Jon interrupted.

His brow scrunched up in confusion "What? Go on then?" He asked.

"Go on..." He said as he nodded to the ground "...beg." Jon finished.

His nostrils flared in anger, he could hear the air leave it as he took in his words.

"I'm not going to do that." He almost growled out. Jon just sat there with a passive face, he looked so uninterested in his response.

He was shocked out of his thoughts as Jon slammed both of his hands on the desk "Right, I think it's time we had that little chat, don't you?" He said as he rubbed his hands together. He was enjoying this.

He sighed as he sat in the chair opposite him, he was trying to delay but it seemed that his actions were for nought "Aye, let's have a chat." He said.

Jon leant forward in his chair "I think we should start with the big question, don't you?" He said as his glare intensified. The walls felt like they were closing in as he realised there was only one way out of his current situation.

He placed his mug of ale on the desk and looked at Jon, really looked at him. His sister's eyes stared back at Ned as Jon waited for him to speak. He wasn't proud of what he was about to do but it was necessary for the safety of his family.

He just hoped one day he would be forgiven.

He cleared his throat "I'll start from the beginning if that would please you?" He asked. Jon just nodded as he leant back in his chair.

"It all started at Harrenhal, more specifically, the tourney of Harrenhal. That's where I met her, your mother." He said. Something flashed across Jon's eyes but it was gone as quick as it came.

"When I first saw her, she took my breath away. Everything about her was otherworldly, from her hair to her eyes, beauty personified. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't the only person whose head she had turned." He said.

"What's her name?" Jon said. He couldn't tell him just yet, he had to sell the lie the best he could.

"Please Jon, I'll get to it I promise, just...let me finish okay?" He said. Jon looked at him for a few seconds before nodding.

"She had so many admirers that all hope seemed lost for me, I was quiet, sullen and a second son. A bit like you used to be in a way." He japed as he chuckled. By the look on Jon's face, he didn't find it very funny.

"Anyways, it seemed like a wasted endeavour, I'd resigned myself to just looking at her from a distance and just settling for that. That's until your uncle Brandon caught me staring at her during a feast." He chuckled "Your uncle Brandon was a loose cannon and when he had a plan, he always found a way of making it work." He said.

"Not always." Jon replied, striking him right in the heart in the process. Jon's face hadn't changed from the glare he'd been sending his way ever since he started his story.

He sighed as he looked down "No, not always." He said, the rest of that incident going untold. It made him think, how would Brandon have dealt with Jon if he were still alive?

"...he caught you staring...then what?" Jon asked, breaking him from his sad thoughts.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued "He thought it would be a good idea to go over to her and ask if she would dance with me, all without telling me what he was gonna say in the first place. When he returned to his seat and told me, I was mortified. What was even shocking was the fact that she said yes." He exclaimed.

Jon's eyes seemed to be growing softer as he went on, like he was losing himself in his story.

He took a swig of his ale "So, we ended up sharing a dance...and that's when I was truly lost. I was nervous as hell as we moved around the room, I even stepped on her toes a few times but she didn't seem to mind, it was hard to look into her eyes as it was so easy to get lost in them. At one point, I was that mesmerised by them, she had to wave her hand in front of my face to bring me back to the real world. I was mortified but she just laughed it off, that's what she was like, she was so considerate and understanding." He said.

Jon looked towards the window "She sounds lovely." He said.

He nodded "She was." He replied. "Over the next few days, we spent every minute of spare time that we had with each other and I couldn't have been any happier if I tried. I was living a dream, living a life that didn't seem real at that moment, a life that I found out she wanted to share with me." He said. It still genuinely hurt that he couldn't live that life that he wanted.

Jon's eyes shot up from where he was staring out the window "Share with you...as in marry?" He said. There was an edge to his tone that he couldn't decipher.

He nodded "If the rebellion hadn't happened, she would have been my wife. We planned to marry soon after we...we..."

"You what?" Jon asked. Eyes devoid of softness they carried only a few moments ago.

He sighed "We consummated our love and agreed to marry, we just needed permission. Before we could even ask, Rhaegar was crowning the wrong person after winning the joust and we were being separated, I was returning to the Vale and she was returning south." He said.

The mug in Jon's hand creaked, he'd not realised that he'd taken it from his side of the desk "So what you are saying is that all of this is Rhaegar Targaryen's fault?" He growled out. In a twisted way, he felt relieved that he wasn't taking the brunt of the blame. He would later find out that Jon's anger wasn't aimed at the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

He fiddled with his thumb and forefinger, a nervous twitch some might call it "Yes and no, it's not all hi..."

"What's her name Lord Stark?" Jon interrupted. He was disturbed by what he was seeing, Jon was almost vibrating from where he sat.

"If you let me finish my st..."

"What. Is. My. Mother's. Name?" Jon growled out, his tone sending shivers through his spine as he looked into his eyes. Molten silver swimming with emotion, clawing for a release.

He gulped, there was no going back with what he said next.

"Ashara. Your mother's name is Ashara." He breathed out.

There was silence for at least half a minute as the grip on the mug in Jon's hand creaked with added pressure.

Jon cleared his throat as he looked towards the window again "Dayne? Ashara Dayne?" He asked.

He just nodded but realised Jon wasn't looking at him so replied "Yes."

Jon sat there and slowly nodded, his face was a picture of emotion, he couldn't tell if it was grief or relief from what he'd been told.

They sat there for a whole minute in silence, Jon was obviously trying to take in the information he'd jus...

The mug in Jon's hand was launched across the room, narrowly missing his head, specks of ale flying from it and spraying his face as the mug impacted with the wall behind him, cracking into numerous pieces as it landed on the floor.

He turned back around towards Jon when he heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, he didn't realise what was happening until Jon had him hauled out of his chair and pressed against the wood cabinet on the left side of the room. The pressure on his chest was immense as Jon held him there, he could practically feel the heat off of him as a crazed look took over his face, a look he would pay to never see again.

"Why are you lying?!" He spat out as the grip on his gambeson became tighter, Jon's hands were awfully close to his throat that genuine worry for his own wellbeing slowly leaked into is system.

He shook his head as he gasped out "I'm not lying, I loved your mo..."

"LIAR!!" Jon screamed into his face, he closed his eyes in fear as Jon's right hand released from its grip on him and morphed into a fist. The impact of it hitting the cabinet behind him making all the colour in his face drain out when he hears a crack and the rattling of the contents inside the piece of furniture.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked to his left where Jon's fist had just been, a broken crater of splinters and shards of wood left in the door to his cabinet.

The grip of his right hand returned to his gambeson as Jon hunched over and looked down at the floor, his raven curls covering his face from his view.

This had gone so wrong, how had it gone so wrong?

"Why? Why do you keep lying to me?" Jon said, barely audible. It sounded like he was asking himself that question.

He was released from Jon's tight grip as his son moved around the room, wandered he would describe it. Not once did he look at Ned as he muttered to himself.

"Jon...Its not a lie...I still love your mothe..."

The chair in front of Jon was picked up and hurled across the room, breaking against the wall behind his desk and sending papers flying. Jon walked to the window and gripped the windowsill, still refusing to look at him.

He had to gain some sort of control back from the situation, he was the warden of the North not some child being told off "Can we just sit and talk about this...maybe leave out you breaking all this furniture?" He asked as he made his way towards his desk.

"I either break the furniture or a I break you. Your choice." Jon growled out, still staring out the window.

He gulped at that.

Minutes passed with nothing said, the only noises that could be heard were Ned's attempts at cleaning up the wooden shrapnel scattered behind his desk.

"I know you're lying, you know that right?" Jon said as he still refused to look at him.

He shook his head, he couldn't know that...right? Unless...oh gods...

His fears were confirmed when Jon spoke again "I've met Ashara Dayne. I've met this woman you claim to be my mother." He said as he finally turned around. He looked angry and tired as he glared at him.

"Funny story, she has no recollection of me. She doesn't even remember birthing me. Might have something to do with her not actually being my mother!" He said, looking like he wanted to break something again. "So I'll ask you again...who is my mother?" He finished.

He couldn't, he just couldn't tell him. It was too dangerous and unfortunately for him, he was shit out of luck and excuses.

So he just stood there, silent. As the rage and anger built and built in Jon's face.

"WELL!?" He bellowed out as he walked towards him. He mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen because deep down, he knew it was about to happen. And in the end, he definitely deserved it.

He shook his head as Jon advanced "I can't, I'm sorry." He said, ready and waiting.

"So am I." His son said as he swung.

The Darkness a welcome respite from his problems.