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Daenerys felt restless. She finished her daily inspection for the day, she couldn't help but notice her army is far less disciplined than Stark's army. It did not bother her much on the first day, but when she saw the children practising in the yard and Arya stark teaching them, it struck her that none of the children gathered around her in north to beg for blessings or stories. Did the Ladies Stark teach those children she is a monster? Did they tell those children that there is no way to live but to follow a Stark? Is this how Starks are staying in power? By indoctrinating children so young, they do not know any better?

She observed the practise. There were some men stopping at times to take a look at Arya, she never seemed to notice it. The children hung onto every word she uttered like it is the greatest story in the world. Soon, it is time to break and Arya had the kids cleanup after themselves before getting lunch. Few of the children approached Dany curiously. She stopped her unsullied guard before they can step forward.

"Hello." She said to the girl nearest, who also seemed to be the tiniest of the lot.

"A'llo" the girl invited herself to sit besides Dany and settled in.

"Why is your hair white?" she asked without preamble.

"I am born like this, little one." Dany answered.

"My 'air is red. Like fire. But me ma didn't like red'air. Mama says Boltons kill red haired girls. So she put mud in it. Now it's brown like the Starks. When I grow up, I am just gonna be like Arya Stark. Mama says girls who fight die, but I am not going to. You see, old gods watch over Starks. I look like a stark, see, so they'll watch over me too." the girl said pulling her braid forward and showing it to Dany.

"Is that so? How do you know gods watch over Starks?" Dany asked curiously.

"I prayed every day for the Boltons to die and Starks to come back. Old gods sent Starks back. Mama said my little brother won't die if Starks came back. He lives now that Starks are back in winterfell." The girl said excitedly gesturing to the direwolf banners.

"That's quite a task. Praying every day." Dany said conversationally, though she is reeling inside.

"Aye. Mama says bad things happen to north if Starks are not in winterfell. Old gods always know where Starks are, so I asked gods everyday to send them trick is to go up the mountain as soon as first cock crows. If you go later, the Boltons will catch you. I gotta take stone path too. 'Cause Boltons watch the trail. Then, I asked gods every day to bring Starks back, for mama says we will all die if there are no starks in winterfell for the winter. Now starks are back, we are all going to live." The girl continued her monologue about how life is so much better with Starks back, with oat cakes and no curfews and best of them all, how she can fight now, how Arya Stark is the strongest woman she knew, only there's the Lady knight who's also equally strong, how she can and will beat all the boys that used to tease her. The monologue only ended when Arya Stark called for the training to reconvene.

Dany walked away with a profound sense of loss and anger. The Targaryens have lost the kingdom too. Why didn't the girl pray for them? In fact, if not for her, the Starks will not have a king to speak off. The white walkers and corpses will over run them. The dead can't cross water, now, can they? As long as Dany stayed on otherside of black water, she is safe. Yet, she is here, saving this godforsaken kingdom of snow and betrayal. Where is the loyalty due her? Where is the devotion due her? Hells, where is the appreciation owed her?

It's as if these people are blind. The land is so perilous and hard to live in, they jump at the slightest bit of help as if was a boon from the gods it self. Starks have used it wisely to enslave people's minds, making them blind to their true saviour, she and her children. They must be freed from tyranny of Starks. She will lead them to a land of freedom and glory. She is the queen they deserve. They may resist at first, but they will understand eventually. For they are all her children and people, she must embrace them with mercy when they come back to her like they should have in the first place.

She needs a new plan. Perhaps this is a good opportunity for Tyrion Lannister to prove his loyalty. With that thought, she went off to her chambers to review the plans. It did not occur to her not even once people might love their homeland more than a distant land with riches. It did not occur to her that may be northern people are loyal to Starks because they proved themselves to be dependable and fair minded. Worst of it all, she did not even consider Jon snow had become king of the north with no help from her whatsoever.

Tyrion and Varys are waiting for her in her solar. Dany walked to her chair, and settled in it. Her solar is large, airy and has four fireplaces, all alight. After the altercation where they made tentative peace, Sansa Stark made sure Dany is not lacking for any comfort. The first day, Tyrion is happy for the warmth and luxury that is their accommodations. However, one walk around winterfell is enough to clue him in on what Sansa Stark is doing.

She is subtly setting them up as southrons who knew nothing about north. A northman might be willing to listen to what they have to say, but once they see the luxurious solar that Dany liked to make decisions from, the delicate red silk cloak with shadow cat trim, they simply discard those words as pretty lies southrons like to speak.

This is only ever reinforced by Sansa Stark's sensible wool dress, equally sensible wolf fur cloak. She ate what her subjects did, she slept in similar rooms as they did. Unlike the dragon queen who insisted on every luxury in winter went without saying. Tyrion, though he noticed it, left the problem alone, for he, himself is as much reason that northern lords did not flock to them as the luxurious decor is. If he explained the former, he would have to explain the later as well and that just will not do.

The northern lords they can make a deal with took one look at him and balked at speaking. If it is not for their stony faces and gruff manners, Dany might have figured it all by now. Yet, today, they have a bigger problem. The spies have informed them Gendry, the Baratheon bastard approached one of the queens dragons and lived to tell the tale. That is two men who were able to pet dragons among Stark men. It started a strange uneasiness in Tyrion.

All he knew about dragons is one needs valyrian blood to approach them. Yet, two of the bastards are able to approach dragons and come off without a scratch to name. Nothing is known about Jon snow's mother. Tyrion, for the life of him couldn't remember any Targaryen in his own family. Given how honorable Ned Stark was, Tyrion could only surmise his mother is of valyrian descent, perhaps a dragon seed. That could very well be the reason Ned Stark did not speak about her at all.

Ideally, one of these two facts is absolute, From all his reading about dragons, he can only conclude the valyrian blood part is true. If that were to be, the only exception is he himself. He heard what people whispered when he was a young drunk. Aerys Targaryen has claimed he has had Joanna Lannister before Tywin ever had. Aerys Targaryen has claimed to have had Joanna during tourney at Lannisport. Tyrion was absolutely sure that his father would have killed Aerys then and there if it had been true. Yet, there was that nagging doubt. Will he, indeed? Suddenly, it's like lightning flashed through Tyrion's head. If what he suspected was true, then it explains everything.

Tywin Lannister has proven time and again he can and will be willfully blind. Will he kill Aerys Targaryen knowing if he were to succeed, it will only prove what he wanted to so vehemently deny - that he is impotent? Incapable of siring children? Tyrion knew the answer without even thinking. He will never accept it, even within the confines of his own mind. What is it Rhaella called his mother? A whore.

Everyone speaks well of the dead. Robert Baratheon is nothing but demon of the trident and greatest warrior of his time in his obituary. His mother is called kind and wise, it is perfectly within her capacity to deceive Tywin. One can be ambitious and kind at the same time, as Margaery Tyrell has proved. Had Tywin started the war, it will be six kingdoms against one, worse yet, Tywin has not endeared him self to any of the other lords. Yes, it would be correct to assume that his mother would avoid such circumstances by any means she can.

This version of the truth fit so well, it sent Tyrion reeling. Provided this is truth, it is twice the proof, for it means even he has part valyrian blood. He is aware of the rumors swirling around his own birth. Is this the reason why Tywin hated him as much? If it were true, then it meant Tywin Lannister is far kinder than he could imagine, and that thought is nigh impossible to fathom. Even so, this theory fit like a glove. It is among all these ground shattering realizations he remembered.

It is Varys who asked him to talk to dragons. He did go of his own volition, but Varys encouraged him without doubt. Does Varys know? If this is true, it means Dany is his sister. Tyrion gave a wry smile at the irony. My sister the queen. It truly must be his fate. However, this is not the time for voicing or continuing on this line of thought. Daenerys has arrived.

"Your grace." They both greeted Dany.

"How goes preparations for war thus far, Lord Hand?" Dany asked.

"Half our army is equipped with dragon glass daggers your grace. The rest at least have dragon glass arrowheads. All your blood riders had their arakhs modified to have dragon glass. The smiths are working with a fury." Tyrion answered. He could see the amusement in Varys's eyes at his pun. Dany only glared at him in answer.

"What else have you to report to me, my lord?" She asked Varys.

"The boy Gendry was seen accosting Rhaegal, your grace. Yet the dragon did not harm him." Varys said.

"How is it possible?" she wondered aloud.

"Robert Baratheon is a cousin of yours, your grace, albeit very distant." Varys answered, but Tyrion heard the unspoken words. I wonder how near Cersei's relation is to you.

"Tell me every detail." Dany commanded.

Thus, varys launched in to the description , not missing a single interaction, including Gendry sitting atop dragon head in water and him petting the dragon before he left. It left Dany with strange uneasiness. That's two men her dragons approved of. Two would be enemies if not for this alliance. Only thing they have in common, nothing is known about their mothers. She needs to get to the bottom of their identities. Starks can be taken care of later.

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Sansa woke delightfully happy and warm. It is such a staggeringly different experience from what she's used to for a long time, she could not help but stay and relish the feeling. For all the recency of this happiness, she could not remember the time before at all. She can well and truly bear winter with memory of this warmth. Yet, her duties are calling she must rise and attend to them as soon as possible.

The first of the affairs were taken care of easily enough. Some of the dothraki brought moon grass with them. It seems few threw away seeds actually sprouted. While northmen or wildlings can not consume these by any means, horses did. If it did grow in this kind of winter, it eased some stress on the northern food stores. Thus, Sansa allotted them few fallow fields to grow moongrass.

The population of wintertown grew exponentially in the past three days. It is a daunting task to organize these new men and women in quarters where they will not clash with one another. Sansa organized long hunting trips, and foraging batches. She had one of the scribes looking through all of the past winter kings journals, looking for any ways to increase food production.

Another small group of men left, to reach the cove of sea dragon point, which is the only place where fish are available in abundance in winter. The winter kings never quite pursued the idea because the fishermen did not climb, and if one has to bring seafood over sea dragon point, it's a steep climb. She literally had to resort to begging to get the mountain clans to transport the fish to winterfell. On top of it all, she had to reinforce the caution about dead and reporting of any such sightings as soon as possible.

Yet, through all these mundane tasks, all she could think of is how to stop cersei. If there is one thing she learned from Cersei, it is that right time is created with one's own hands, not by the will of fate. It means, sooner or later Cersei will send a cut throat for her, she did not already. How ever, Sansa did not think she could send a cutthroat after Cersei. They must leave Cersei to be killed by Daenerys. As Sansa thought of thousand and one ways to undermine Cersei, she had an epiphany.

She need not kill Cersei. Hells, she need not even guard against her. She only needs to take what north needs from south, no more, no less. Revenge and Justice sounded very pleasing to the ears, but her first duty is to survive and see her people through winter. When summer comes, there will be plenty of time for revenge. With that thought, she went off to find her maester, to inquire about the state of war in Reach. A thousand thoughts popped in her head, each more confusing than another. She needs a plan, and she needs a man who does not think like a lord.

With that thought, she called her closest advisers together. It is a motley group they made. Lady Brienne, Samwell Tarly, Maester wolkan and Ser davos. Sansa would have preferred if all the Starks attended, but Jon and Robb were busy organizing the army, Bran is in godswood as usual. She had an idea, but she asked them what they should do about it anyway. She asked them what they need from the south, if they were to survive this war.

"Supplies" Ser Davos answered.

"Men" Maester wolkan answered

"Wildfire." Samwell tarly answered.

The rest of the men turned to him in shock, including a surprised Sansa. She could see the sense of it, but she did not think about that at all. Now that she did, it struck her as more and more important to have wildfire than rest of the elements.

"Indeed. It will be very useful." Sansa said, mulling the idea in her head.

"How are we going to get them from the south." Brienne said.

They all sat there silently. Sansa contemplated each and every one of them. Till she had an idea. It's not a great idea, but it's an idea nonetheless.

"There is a way. Or more like a tactic. We can use Jaime to deceive Cersei in to giving up wildfire and men. If he were to say use them for burning winterfell with all Starks in it, She will give it gladly." Sansa said.

"My Lady." Brienne exclaimed.

The men looked to her with shock.

"It could work." Samwell is the first to speak.

Then, Ideas flowed. Wildfire in Cersei's hand is something no one liked. Sansa asked if ser Davos can run a smuggling ring getting people and wildfire out of kingslanding. He agreed gladly, when Sansa pointed out there is a possibility that Cersei will make mad king's plan her own with wildfire.

Maester wolkan and samwell Tarly both are apprehensive of her maester, so they agreed to write to few of the men they knew dropped out from citadel to work as Qyburn's apprentice and their spies. The only remaining problem is getting food from reach and making sure Cersei is unable to retaliate.

Eventually, they decided to have Dragon queen's help for this. She will keep kingslanding siege going on. Tyrion can order Lannister forces to return and stay in westerlands as lord of casterly rock, if he did not already do so. They will only inform Dragon queen of her part. The rest of the tasks are not strictly lawful, thus, Sansa saw no need to inform her of the deeds. Jaime agreed to follow after some persuasion. The day was surprisingly productive. Sansa slept with a smile on her face and Jon's arms around her. If only such peace could continue to next day.

The first surprise of the next day came during breakfast. Given the armies depart in two days, Daenerys decided they are to have their breakfast together. Sansa, seeing no reason to deny her, acquiesced. The breakfast progressed with no problems till a howl echoed across winterfell. Specifically, a direwolf howl echoed across winterfell.

All of the Stark siblings froze mid meal, including Sansa. Their ears perked eerily like wolves, they waited for the next howl. The others looked to them inquisitively. Another howl echoed across the winterfell.

"Shaggy" Bran breathed. He never felt more like Bran of before than now.

Robb and Jon got up in a single motion, uttering their apologies hurriedly.

"Don't run in the halls." Sansa called out after them instinctively, for a moment forgetting that they are with company.

Arya got up after them, her apologies even more hurried.

"Arya!" Sansa said admonishingly. If nothing else, she expected her sister to show a little more decorum than her brothers.

Arya jumped out of the window right on to a icy ledge.

"Not running the hallways." She called out after her.

Sansa sighed internally.

"I apologize for the indecorum of my family your grace. It seems we have an urgent matter to attend to. May we be excused?" Sansa asked politely.

"Not at all, Lady Stark. In fact, I will join you in dealing with this urgent matter." Dany replied.

All her attendants got up, having finished their meals.

The guard wheeled out Bran.

Sansa walked over to the window and looked never did this in company, but she had to now, considering experiency.

Then she whistled.

It's a sound that's raucous and melodious at the same time. It raised hairs on one's neck, made their spines taut, turned their heads to where it came from. It's the call of a primal being, ordering all else to submit themselves. Nothing happened for a moment. Then the courtyard broke out in a cacophony of yips and growls.

All of the Ramsay's dogs came out, looking up at the window Sansa is at. Sansa looked down on them imperiously.

"To Gate." She intoned clearly.

The dogs broke out in a run, kennel master hurrying after them. The men scrambled out of the way of dogs, as they started running furiously to the gates. How ever, what none of them expected is the dragons. Both dragons flew back and draped themselves on either side of the gate.

Dany stared at them uncomprehendingly for a moment. What in the world are they doing here? She did not call them. Did they respond to Sansa's command? But how? Lady Sansa has no Targaryen blood. Or is it that whistle? There's something unnatural about it, she felt it. Is Sansa Stark capable of some kind of magic? It's a fluke. It's just a fluke. She moved after Sansa Stark, who's already striding away from the room towards the gates.

The scene that met them is straight out of the stories. A young boy was waiting for them atop a fearsome looking black direwolf, by far larger than ghost, equally fearsome looking warriors spread out around him in all directions. They held their spears standing and strong, yet one could tell they are alert and ready to deal with any threat.

The stark party stood staring at the boy, the guards around them weary and their weapons are out and held ready, but not pointed to the wolf or the boy. There were few wildlings, glaring at the party, but none of them made a move to go near them. When Sansa walked out of the doors, the boy stared at her in shock before jumping off his wolf and rushing at her. The guards made to move, along with brienne, but Sansa held them back.

"Mother. You came back." The teen exclaimed happily, hugging Sansa for all he's worth.

He separated himself from her only when Bran's chair is carried out.

"Bran." he said, before moving to Bran, and throwing his arms around him.

He separated only for him to notice the rest.

"Robb! Arya! Father?" he intoned doubtfully, staring at Jon.

"It is Jon, stupid, and that's Sansa." Arya told him,

"Mother and Father died." Rickon acknowledged.

"Did you kill the Lannisters?" he asked, looking at Robb.

"It's a long story." Robb offered with a smile.

"Welcome back, Rickon. Your companions are welcome within the walls of winterfell."

Rickon shook his head.

"Where is Bolton bastard?" he asked them.

"Dead." Sansa answered him, stroking the head of the nearest dog.

"Did he suffer?" Rickon asked, his eyes boring into Sansa.

"Till his last breath." Sansa offered back solemnly.

One of the men with them asked Rickon something in skagosi.

"Who rules winterfell?" Rickon asked.

"I do." Sansa answered.

The man who was with Rickon said something to him harshly.

Rickon answered with something equally harsh back.

Sansa stared at him.

"They want to know why you rule if there is an elder male heir than you. I told them I will be serving too, If my queen rips apart her enemies." Rickon answered.

Sansa wondered for a moment if Rickon could have become a three eyed raven, had Bran died in his accident. Nevertheless, it is not a discussion they want to hold in front yard. Rickon is hastily introduced to rest of the Royal party, before Starks each to attend to their own business, leaving Rickon with Bran in the godswood.

"Did you find what you were searching for in the north?" Rickon asked conversationally.

"I am the three eyed raven." Bran answered in his monotonous tone.

"Ravens fled when wolves came to these woods." Rickon told him viciously.

Bran looked at him with the same expressionless eyes.

Rickon, how ever, did not even show a hint of uneasiness rest of his siblings shown. He met Bran's eyes squarely, a certain wild ness to his eyes, his jaw stubborn. It is Bran who looked away first this time. The words stirred something unfamiliar in him. It is only after few minutes Bran recognized this unfamiliar feeling. It's doubt.

Doubt at all he was taught. He spent his entire time digging unbelievable secrets from past, how in the world had he taken words of blood raven as absolute? Then he felt a slight irritation.

Just like Rickon to shred everything he built in a moment. His brother has always been wildly unexpected that way. He has always done things like this even when he was a kid. The little wild thing, ripping through is carefully crafted toys, now that he is grown, he is ripping through his carefully crafted notions. Damn little brothers.

"My brother, the wild wolf." Bran said with the same mocking tone he used whenever rickon tagged him in a game he believed himself unbeatable in.

Rickon smiled widely in response.

Bran's hand gave a twinge. The cold hand tightening around his wrist. Bran rubbed the area, trying to give warmth, despite knowing such thing is not possible.

"What is it?" Rickon asked concernedly, or with as much concern as he can muster, which is pretty small.

"The night king marked me. He would have killed me too, but I left before he could." Bran answered him.

"One kills the weak, dies to the strong, but marks only an equal."

"I ran before he could get to the killing bit."

"Could he?" Rickon asked, looking in to Bran.

The lingering doubt and irritation returned.

"I'd rather not find out." Bran answered tersely.

Now he has an idea how he made his elder siblings feel. He can not believe after all the shit he went through, Rickon the baby is making him second guess himself.

They sat in companionable silence after that.

"Do you think we can win this war?" Bran asked suddenly.

"If we have enough food and warmth." Rickon answered.

Bran looked at him questionably.

"Not if we have enough men?" Bran asked.

"All living things fight for survival. We will have enough men, sooner or later. But one can not fight hunger or cold." Rickon answered seriously.

Bran stared at him. His little brother has truly grown, and became someone all of their family could be proud of. They sat in silence until it is broken by an excited wolf.

Shaggy came bounding into godswood, held back of Bran's shirt and threw him in the air. It truly must be something he and rickon practised, for Bran landed on his back straddling him, would have fallen over flat on his face if not for rickon who swung behind him and held him at the waist like a maiden.

The Starks are gathered at the gate, this time without Dragon queen's entourage in tow.

A cart is standing in the middle of the court yard. Meera is standing besides it. She is all Bran could see for a moment, then the world cleared. It is like a lost part of himself returned to him. He and Rickon both moved forward, that is when Bran saw him. The little boy who was present at Arya's wedding. A little boy, staring right at him, with blind eyes.

They could now see in the cart is a woman, who seemed to be quite sick. She tried to hold Robb's hand, but her strength failed her. Robb grabbed her hand before it could fall down. He looked part worried and part confused.

He recognized the woman as soon as he saw her face. Jeyne westerling. He had not known she is alive.

"The crown" the woman said weakly.

Howland reached into his bag and passed the iron crown with nine swords to her.

Jeyne passed along the crown in to Robb's hands.

"I am glad to see you, my love." She told him, looking into his eyes.

"Winterfell is every bit as beautiful as you said." she added with much effort.

"Please, save your energy." Robb told her, worried for her life.

"I am dying, my love. I want you to meet your son. I named him Rickard."

The whole family perked up.

The blind boy wandered to her, and climbed into the cart. He stood by Jeyne's other hand, while she placed his little hand in Robbs.

"Welcome to winterfell, Prince Rickard." Robb told him, emotionally.

It is clear to everyone these are the last moments of Jeyne's life.

"Help me sit." she ordered, and Meera moved immediately to help her.

Jeyne looked over Starks, still holding Robb's hand.

"You were right. Your sister is the most beautiful lady in the world." Jeyne said.

She reached for the crown in Robb's hand, lifted it with some help from Robb and Rickard. She beckoned for Sansa to come forward. Sansa bent her head, for Jeyne's intent is very clear.

She placed the crown on Sansa's head.

"Long may you reign, winter queen." Jeyne told her reverently. It is clear she had waited for this moment.

Sansa just nodded her head in acknowledgement. It hasn't sunk that Robb's wife is actually alive till now. Many thought her to be the cause of northern defeat,Sansa would have thought the same had she been the naive girl in kingslanding. Now, she met and taken care of Boltons, she knew Robb would have been subjected to a betrayal in one manner or another. She is happy that she has a nephew, for as long as they have an heir, their kingdom is all the stronger for that.

Jeyne looked to Arya next.

"I am glad you found love, my lady. Your brother has long worried you would be most wroth with him for betrothing you." She told arya.

The little boy reached in to a pocket and brought out a golden chain with a single pearl.

"A wedding gift." Jeyne said, while little Rickard brought his hand to Arya.

This time none of the family could hide their surprise, except for Bran.

"How?" it is Gendry who exclaimed this time.

"Rickard saw you wed." Jeyne said in the way of explanation.

"Thank you, Jeyne." Arya said. She has never been one for formalities.

"Robb wanted you to be his hand. He felt your loss most keenly." she told Jon.

"I always wanted to meet you, my lady." Jon told her kindly.

Jeyne tilted her head in acknowledgement, and turned to Robb.

"Please, hold me, Robb." Jeyne said, the longing in her voice unmistakable.

Robb just sat besides her and held her.

"I am glad it is you I loved, my lord." She said, leaning her head on Robb's shoulder.

Rickard moved forward, climbing in to Robb's lap, and holding his mother's hand.

"Promise me, you will love again, and live happily for rest of your life." she said to Robb.

"I will, my lady." Robb told her.

"Take care of Rickard." she added.

Robb nodded.

"We will, my lady." Sansa assured her.

Jeyne smiled tiredly.

"I want to rest now." She said, closing her eyes.

It is clear that she has lost her life soon after.

The Starks stood there, frozen, watching over the scene.

Queen Jeyne was burned with all the respects allowed a queen. Rickard stood, holding Robb's hand, for the entire duration pyre burned. A strange kind of melancholy set upon them after hearing what Jeyne went through. After she gave birth, a birthing disease set upon her. She literally staved off death, by taking one toxic medicine after another, praying for Starks to return to winterfell. If only the slightly tragic happening is all that happened on this day.

Bran returned to Godswood after the funeral, for there is nothing else for him to do. He figured Rickard is probably a greenseer, wondered for a moment if a green seer existed in every generation of Starks. It did not make sense. None of his father's siblings are green seers. Or were they not? It is just as possible they did not heed the warnings or discarded the signs. After all, did uncle Benjen go north with no encouragement? Mayhaps he felt the need to go far north, but had not had the ability to decipher the signs. After all, if Jojen hadn't advised him, he would have taken far longer to figure all this out. It is among these thoughts Rickard arrived in godswood.

"Uncle Bran." Rickard greeted him in the same monotone he used on others.

Bran finally understood how unsettling he must have been to all others of his family.

"Nephew." Bran answered equally monotonously.

"Uncle Jon must know it all before he leaves. He must." Rickard told him.

He need not explain what all consisted off.

"What if he doesn't?" Bran asked curiously. He could look for himself, but he never liked visiting future.

"Others will take him. The battle of ice and fire will be end of all as we know it." Rickard answered back seriously.

"All of it, Nuncle. Good, bad and ugly." Rickard warned one more time, as if he could sense Bran's decision to withhold some of the details.

Bran nodded. He told Samwell Tarly it's time. The man nodded at him, and left to fetch Jon.

Jon did not take it well is an understatement. First he insisted it couldn't be true, for he has long heard rumors his mother might be Ashara Dayne, and look, isn't he very good with a sword?

Sam reminded him Rhaegar is equally good with sword. While he may not match ser Arthur's prowess, he could have probably held his own. Also, From all the hearsay, his mother's quite the swordswoman herself.

Jon fell silent at that.

"Father would have told me. He wouldn't have put me through this if I am really heir to seven kingdoms." Jon argued.

"Father always let his children make their own choices, Jon. you were very set on nightswatch. In his defense, he never expected war to break out the way it did."

Jon could say nothing to that. It is true, regardless of how much he wanted to undermine it.

"Sam, could you give us some space, please?" Bran asked politely.

Samwell nodded, gave a pitying glance to Jon and left the godswood.

"Why, what else could there be that's bigger than this?" Jon snapped bitterly.

"Daenerys Targaryen is your aunt and sister." Bran told him plaintively.

Jon looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. The horror unfurled on his face with the understanding. He staggered sideways and vomited what little he ate. It took him awhile to get him to settle.

"He is not my father. My father is Eddard Stark. Just you wait. I will prove it to you." Jon said angrily, stomping away from him.

It didn't take him long to find Sam in library. Sam looked at him inquiringly, Jon only glared at him harder in response.

"I am not. I will prove it to you right now." he hissed at Sam, removed glove from his left hand violently, stuck his left hand into flames. Then he waited for the pain. Pain, which should have come long before now. Sam is staring at him in shock, Jon himself turned to his left hand disbelievingly. He made to grab a burning log with his hand, yet all he felt is gentle warmth.

All fight left him as he stared at his unburnt left hand. Yet, all he could think in his head is I fucked my own sister. For the longest time, he did not touch anything female for fear they might be his mother or sister, then he went on and fucked his own sister. For a moment, White hot rage coursed through him. He screamed in frustration, frightening sam then strode swiftly away from him.

If looks could kill, Ned Stark's statue would have become dust by now. His anger at his father burned as hot as valyrian fire. How could his father, the most honorable man in the kingdom, do this to him? He cheated him out of his birthright for his friend, stayed silent as his wife shunned him, and then let him go to watch thinking he has no other options. All he wanted was to be equal to Robb.

Yet, now all he wanted was for Ned to be his father. To just tell him, to give him a single sign indicating what Bran told him is not true. He fucked a valyrian woman, after all, it's possible. Not every blackfyre would have been killed, provided one kept their mouth shut, it is perfectly possible for a dragon seed to live in kingslanding or crown lands. How ever, as he looked back at past, there are only too many signs indicating Rhaegar is his father. A mother fucking dragon. Literally. Jon felt bile rise in his throat again.

He needs alcohol. Yes, his father never condoned drinking away sorrows much, but Jon is absolutely sure he will forgive him in this instance. He broke right into cellar, grabbed the strongest liquor bottle he can find and drank deeply. The burning in his throat couldn't have felt sweeter. So he stayed there, cursing out his father, his father's wife and dear stupid Robb. Why is it all Robb done is forgiven, but it is not if he did the same? What gave him the right?

His drunken mind reminded him Robb is sad to day. His wife died. He has a son now.

"Stupid Robb. You think only you can be a father? I can be one too. Better than father. I will not lie to my children either." he grumbled into silence.

By the gods, Robb. His brother. He lost a wife to day. He needs his company. He has forgotten his wife though, so he's prolly not much sad. Then Jon's mind latched on to the word forgotten. Robb knows how to forget. In fact, the little shit has forgotten all about them, and thought that slimy maggot Baelish is his father. But he knows how to forget. So, Jon got up, stumbled out of cellar, went to find Robb.

Jon drunkenly pushed past the guard at Robb's door who's trying to stop him.

"Robb! You .. Teash me 'ow to forget" Jon slurred as he stumbled towards Robb's bed.

Dany and Robb both scrambled to the side.

Dany looked at him in astonishment. She has never seen Jon loose control.

"Your grace" Robb said snootily as he pulled wine jar out of Jon's hand.

Jon hugged wine jar to himself tighter as he flailed on Robb's bed. Then he noticed Dany.

"My grace..?!" Jon grumbled as he scrambled back. It's then he noticed Dany.

"You… !" he said pointing to her.

"Is she here to fuck 'ou too?" Jon slurred looking at Robb.

"'Ou should 'uck 'er.. She's as good 's lyseni whore" Jon said with a cackle.

Robb scrambled to cover Jon's mouth before he could say more, which is clearly his intent.

"I apologize for him your grace. He is drunk, he doesn't know what he is saying. I promise I will reprimand him." he said, holding Jon in chokehold, who's futilely trying to pull Robb's fingers off his mouth.

Dany nodded ambiguously before striding out.

The words Jon spoke echoed in her head. Is that what she is to him? Some one to fuck? She thought they had a bond with each other. Hells, she wanted to take him for her king. Yet, here he is, taking her to be nothing more than a play thing. The betrayal burned in her heart. If not for this family, she would have been his goddess. Dany resolved to take care of Starks once and for all. Ofcourse, Jon need not know. It is for his own good.