Chapter 17 - Four Years (II)

"Lies will always be discovered, especially if there are powers beyond human comprehension." Aenar Targaryen, aged ten, watching Eddard Stark.

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Eddard watched his nephew enter his solar. At the age of ten, Aenar was already tall and broad-shouldered, easily passing for a young man of thirteen or fourteen. His features bore the innate nobility and beauty of House Targaryen, something often commented on by the servants. Eddard knew that his nephew drew too much attention for his own good.

What most caught the Lord of Winterfell's attention, however, was the boy's posture and aura.

Before him stood a young man of regal and princely bearing. Every movement, every gesture, every intense gaze exuded the dignity of a prince. There were times when Aenar's presence was so imposing that Eddard almost believed he was standing before a powerful and wise king.

Sometimes he found himself dreaming of Aenar sitting on the Iron Throne. And, even against his will, he had to admit: he knew that his nephew could be as great a king as Jaehaerys I, the Old King. Perhaps even greater than any monarch who had ever reigned in Westeros.

Better than Robert...

Shaking his head, Eddard put these dangerous thoughts out of his mind and took a deep breath.

Jon would never be king.

"I see you're sweaty, how was your training?" Eddard leaned back in his chair and asked, looking at his nephew with an impassive expression.

"As always Robb being defeated." Jon replied in a calm, courteous tone. His crimson red clothes hugged his body, showing off his slightly muscular and slender frame.

Eddard nodded, showing no surprise at his words. In terms of talent with the sword, he saw that his nephew probably equaled or surpassed Arthur Dayne, the Legendary Knight of the Dawn, wielding the sword Dawn of House Dayne.

A flash of memory made him feel deeply ashamed, the death of the brother of the woman he loved had scarred him deeply. If it hadn't been for Howland Reed's cowardly blow, they would all have died at Ser Arthur Dayne's hands that day.

Of that, he had no doubt, each stroke of Arthur's double swords were like fleeting flashes in the air, killing almost instantly any knight or man he knew.

Snapping out of old memories, Eddard spoke again. "I heard from the Master at Arms that you wish to leave for a while and travel in the north?"

"That's true. I've long wanted to see the Wall and perhaps some White Walkers mounted on Ice Spiders." Jon replied, his words slightly amused by his insinuation.

Eddard rolled his eyes, but he didn't refuse to meditate and ponder, he had been young once and knew how tempting it was to travel in search of exciting adventures in the mind of a teenager.

Jon would probably run away if he didn't agree, and if asked which option he would prefer, Eddard would reply that he would rather prepare things so that Jon would travel properly prepared, than have the boy run away and be unprepared on a journey towards the Wall.

"I will order a horse and supplies for your journey to the Wall, as well as a Raven announcing your arrival to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jeor Mormont." Eddard spoke, causing Jon to flash a very happy smile.

Seeing that smile, Eddard smiled too; it was rare to see his nephew smile like a real ten-year-old. Sometimes he felt that Jon was carrying an extremely heavy burden, which confused him.

Suddenly, he noticed the smile on his lips disappearing, replaced by frowning lips.

"Do you think I'm a fool, Lord Stark?" Looking directly into the gray eyes of the Protector of the North, he asked with a calm tone.

Jon knew that his performance at this moment would have to be Oscar-worthy to make the Lord Protector of the North's iron heart melt like snow on a day of extreme heat.

The question surprised Eddard, he shook his head in denial and replied. "How foolish you can be, Jon. Maester Luwin has praised your wisdom since you were four."

"Although Lord Stark treats me like one." Jon said, his voice slightly lower than usual.

"What do you mean by that, Jon?" Eddard asked, his tone gradually becoming harsher and more powerful. He felt a bad premonition for some reason, as if what was about to happen would change the whole course of his life.

Jon didn't answer and walked over to the jug containing water and, with a little water in his hands, wet a lock of his hair.

As the ink-stained drops fell to the floor, the dark tone of the lock of hair soon faded, showing a pale color with a slight golden hue. It was a lock of white gold hair, a rare color even in Ancient Valyria.

"You repeatedly deny knowing my mother's identity, but you also ask me to dye my hair every day. Am I such a fool not to realize something so obvious, Lord Stark?" Jon asked again, looking directly into the eyes of the Lord Protector of the North.

Jon wanted to pressure Eddard into telling his true identity, the reason for this was quite simple, he wanted to make the North start preparing for the future civil war right now!

When The Cailin Moat was rebuilt and used as a War Fortress, any army from the South would be stopped from entering the North, just like thousands of years ago.

The only danger was House Reed who knew of passages through the Swamps, but knowing the loyalty of the Lord of the Greywater Watch, he wasn't worried about the betrayal of the man who had been helped by his mother, Lyanna Stark.

The look on Eddard Stark's face hardened at the question, he clenched his fists and forced himself to calm down. Although he knew he would have this conversation someday, he didn't expect it to be when Jon was only ten.

The boy was far too intelligent, which gave him an enormous headache. Eddard didn't know how to hide the truth without increasing the boy's suspicions even more.

"Jon-" Before Eddard could continue, he was interrupted by Jon.

"I know whose son I am." Jon spoke directly, he had to pretend to be hurt by the information he had, showing a veiled expression of sadness, anger and regret.

"The fruit of rape, worse than the fate of being a Bastard."

Eddard's face, though still impassive, was pale, he felt his body was drained of strength by those words that cut through his heart like daggers. Resting his elbows on the table, he pressed his face against his hands and bowed his head.

An extremely tense and heavy atmosphere hung in the air, the suffocating feeling in the air could make any timid person piss their pants without any dignity.

Raising his head, Eddard looked at his nephew and felt as if a sword had pierced his heart. The expression of pain, anger and resentment was one he never thought he'd see on his nephew's usually calm, confident, elegant and courteous face.

"Jon." Eddard spoke in a hoarse, slightly shaky voice.

"I know, you don't have to tell me." Jon interrupted. "I can't stay too long in the North, the longer I live with your family, the more danger they're in. What if the king decides to visit Winterfell and see me? Although I don't know what my father looks like, I can assume that I have many similarities with him."

Jon's words made Eddard unable to say anything else.

Jon's words reminded him of something, he was Lord Paramount of the North and Lord of Winterfell, he had to defend his fief and look after the continuation of House Stark above all else.

He knew Jon was right, if Robert discovered his nephew's true identity, he had no doubt that the King would summon all his banners and march north to eliminate the threat to his Throne.

Not only would the North be in danger, but also his entire family. The image of his beheaded children and wife appeared in the Lord of the North's mind. Unconsciously, he clenched his fists, vowing that he would never let such a thing happen.

Even though he didn't want to, Eddard decided to start preparing to prevent something like this from happening. Even though he didn't want war, he wasn't afraid of it, he would protect the North and his family just like the Old Kings of Winter. Just as his father would and as his brother would.

The Moat Cailin .

Eddard soon thought of the most important fortress in the North, where the armies of the South had been prevented from entering the North for thousands of years without success.

Although expensive and time-consuming, Eddard estimated that much of the castle could be restored for the defense of the North. In addition, the fortress could be given to his second son as a fief.

Robb would inherit Winterfell after him, but Bran would have to leave and create his own Noble House and serve as Robb's vassals. He could very well give The Cailin Moat to Bran to rule.

That way he wouldn't have to worry about betrayal or any other House having power beyond House Stark in the North.

Without realizing it, Eddard found himself thinking of various measures to prevent an invasion from the South if Jon's identity was revealed. The Lord of Winterfell was manipulated in such a subtle way that he would probably never discover that he had been successfully manipulated.

'Don't blame me uncle, only this way can you live longer. Jon thought, seeing the determined expression on Eddard Stark's face. Although it was cruel to manipulate the man who raised him like a true son, it was for his own good and also for his own benefit.

The North would be his base for the Reconquest of Westeros.

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