sixthiterationlogs | 🍂 autumn fades

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🍂 autumn fades

WHO: Jon Snow
WHERE: 6I village, at Lucrezia’s Home
WHEN: 26 October
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: tbd

Jon had made a habit of going to see Lucrezia daily when he went to visit his family and when he didn’t see her for two days running, his heart sank like a stone. It wasn’t like her to be out often; she usually kept close to her home or to the inn and to not see her at all for two days meant that surely she must have gone.

The evening of the second day confirmed his suspicions completely. Her cat mewled and yowled, wandering about the steps and of Lucrezia’s porch seemingly in search of his mistress. It took Jon a moment to actually get the cat to come close to him but once he coaxed it near, he gathered him up into his arms.

“Barnabus,” Jon said quietly. “I fear she’s gone and left us both. No amount of looking is going to bring her back to us, all right?”

When Ygritte had disappeared, Jon had searched for her in the woods for days and only when he’d exhausted every hollow and dale that he had declared her truly gone. When Arya had gone, he‘d done similar.

Now, though, he simply felt hollow and empty. He’d lost another person he had cared for in this place and there was no telling who might be next. Would it be his Lord Father? Would it be his sisters? His brother? Lyanna? Jon hoped not.

Armful of cat, he walked past the home his family lived in and down the road toward the inn. Possibly there was a bit of milk or something he might be able to give the cat so it would stop yowling for the time being.

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Ned nods knowingly, understanding the underlying affection Jon fails to explicitly mention. Although there would be no other who could capture his heart the way Catelyn had, despite their beginnings as nothing more than strangers, there had been one in the village who had stirred something in him in a way no one had since he'd last seen his wife. Those feelings have seemed to have subsided now, softly and gently reduced to embers with the insistence of friendship and companionship, especially in the name of honor.

He feels a pang of sympathy for Jon, though he makes no movement to try and show it outright.

"We are very fortunate to have so much of our family here," Ned reflects, earnest and somewhat cautious in his words. "I have not yet met another who had so many of their brood arrive as we have." Which, in truth, is both a blessing and a curse. He hates the thought of his children trapped here, slaves to the whims of the Observers, and yet, he cannot help but selfishly cherish the fact that he has been given the opportunity for a second chance with them. And, even more so, his sister, whom he's spent his life missing. "It is good of you to share what fortune we have with others; I am sure it was met with great appreciation. Where were you bringing her cat before I interrupted you?"

"I was going to bring him home with me," Jon said. Barnabus, for his part, meowed loudly and continued winding around Jon's legs. It was amusing, in a way, and he supposed they were both a little lost and lonely. He owed it to Lucrezia to bring the cat home and give him a good life.

"I was hoping Lyanna wouldn't mind a pet. I'd leave him for Arya but I think you have enough people in your house - plus Sansa's dog."

"Lyanna and Barnaby," Ned muses quietly, offering a contemplative glance down towards the animal. It sounded like one of the fantastical stories he'd make up for her when they were children. "I don't think she'd mind. She was always very good with creatures as a girl. She'd forged a close bond with her steed, and the animal trusted none other than she." He lifts his gaze towards Jon, a curious glint backlighting them.

"You are adjusting to having her here in the village? I pray that your relationship grows stronger each day."

"I've come to care for her as fiercely as the rest of my family," Jon agreed. "I cannot call her Mother, since I will always, always think of you as my father, but I care about her. I've come to appreciate having her around and I'm glad to know her."

Jon let a smile touch his lips. "She's so like Arya."

Although there is no other outward showing of his relief, there is a certain softness that overtakes Ned's features, particular around his eyes, at this news. This is, by far, the best outcome for which he could have hoped, given the circumstances. With a gentle shake of the head, Ned reaches out to place a sturdy but affectionate hand on Jon's shoulder.

"You needn't call her Mother, if that does not sit well with you. I have had few honors in my life so great as having had the chance to be called your father, Jon. I am grateful you wish you continue titling me so." He gives a gentle squeeze before allowing his hand to fall back to his side again. Jon's comment draws out a rumbling laugh from Ned's belly. "Yes, or perhaps it is the other way 'round. Now you understand why I am doomed to have both of them in my life simultaneously."

"Well, there are worse things than being able to have two fathers," Jon said. He had no idea what sort of father Rhaegar Targaryen would be and while this place might afford him the opportunity to find out, he didn't want to know. He wanted nothing to taint his memories of calling Ned Stark father, of knowing him to be the kind of man he wanted to grow up to be someday. He'd always idealized Ned and now, being able to know him as a man grown and not a boy, the admiration had only grown. What a hard thing, to keep the burden of a secret even from his own wife just to keep his nephew alive.

"And I have been blessed to call you mine. I missed you so much, Father. I am so glad to have you here and I am just as glad to get a chance to know Lyanna. She's just like all the stories said."

Ned nods in reply, silently agreeing with Jon's statement. He knows he'd been fortunate in his lineage, having had wonderful parents - despite their early and untimely ends. If anything, it was their absence, their being stolen from his life that had been harder to swallow than had their more strict parenting style. Of course, he had also not spent a great deal of time with them while he grew, being a ward of Jon Arryn - a man whom Ned almost considered more of a father than his own. Funny, how both Ned and Jon had two fathers despite their differences.

"My son, words will forever fail me in any attempt to relay how truly elated I am to be able to have this second chance with you, and with your siblings. But I do hope that you all know how I feel about it, regardless." There's another quiet laugh that rumbles in his gut. "Yes, she is. Particularly the ones about how terribly untamable she is."

"I love you, Father. I don't know if I have ever told you in such plain words," Jon said, his voice halting over the words even as he gave them. He wasn't one for emotional speeches most of the time.

"I love all of our family but I think this place, in a way, is a second chance and I need to say the things that were unsaid."

Jon's admission - unexpected and sudden - is enough to steal the breath from Ned's lungs, but rather than leave him gasping the way the news of Jon Arryn's death had done, he finds it bubbles a certain feeling of pride and returned affection in his gut. He is silent for a few moments as he attempts to collect his thoughts before reaching out for Jon's shoulder, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I love you, too, Jon," he finally concedes, voice thick and gruff with emotion. "I have since the moment they'd laid you in my arms. I know I didn't say it often enough when you were young, and I should've, but I'm saying it now. I might not be your father in blood, but nothing in the Seven Kingdoms could make me feel differently about you."

"It's not the way of men to say they love one another," Jon said. Now that he was older, he understood it, but as a boy all he'd wanted was to hear his lord father say that he loved him and to feel like he was just as much Ned Stark's son as Robb had been. Jon never begrudged his brothers and sisters anything but he did, very much, want to be an equal in Ned's eyes.

"I just know that I wish I'd said it before I went to the Wall. I wish I'd had a chance to say it before you'd died and I never got to say it. You ought to know how much you mean to me and I don't want it to ever be a mystery again. We Starks need to stick together here in this place, all of us."

"No, it is not," Ned echos, allowing his grip around Jon to go lax, parting the moment with a squeeze of his hands to his shoulders. "But perhaps we could stand to have it be, on occasion." Although Ned had rarely uttered the words outside of conversations with his wife, he tried his hardest to make sure each of his children knew, through action and deed, how much he truly cared for and loved them all - individually, and as a whole. Such actions were not always well-received, despite his best intentions - such as gifting Sansa a doll of the same maker as Myrcella's toys.

In hindsight, he, of course, wishes he could have said it with much more frequency - but of course it is always easy to see shortcomings and areas in need of improvement when reflecting back on one's life.

"Neither of us could've ever known what was to befall us when we'd parted ways on the King's Road," Ned soothes. "And you were but a boy then, when I'd last seen you. You needn't carry the guilt of things left unsaid any longer, Jon. We've the chance to make things right now."

"We do," Jon agreed. "I just know that we have carried the burden of things unsaid for too long, Father, and I don't want to anymore. I want us to speak freely with one another in this place even if it isn't possible in Westeros."

Here in this strange place outside of time, Jon had the gifts of his father and brother, both of whom were dead back home. He had both his sisters close and safe. He had everything he could possibly want and, in spite of not having a woman, his heart felt...full.

"If you had it to do over again, would you have told anyone about me? Would you have told Lady Catelyn who I was?"

"I cannot promise that it is something I will always be able to uphold, as it is difficult for someone to undo an entire way of life in a short period of time, but I will promise you, Jon, that I will do as you request to the best of my ability," Ned agrees, his tone soft and earnest, yet firm with the unofficial oath is making. He hopes that they are not so far removed from their home of Westeros that Jon could misconstrue the weight behind Ned's words; he has certainly never been one to take oaths lightly.

He takes a moment to ponder Jon's question, allowing his mind to play out a number of different scenarios in which he might have had the conversation. They all lead to the same conclusion, however, and he eventually meets Jon's eyes with a curious glint in his.

"Would you prefer that I did, if we were given the chance to start over?"

"It might have made my life easier as a child," Jon said, thinking it through as he spoke. "But I know why you didn't say anything. You didn't want Lady Catelyn burdened with that secret. You were just trying to keep me safe, even at the expense of the relationship with your wife."

Jon let out a sigh and shook his head. "No. You did the right thing, Father. You shouldn't have done anything else."

Ned nods in agreement; that much is certain. His heart always ached for the boy, so desperate for love and acceptance, whenever he attempted to seek it from Catelyn. For as much as Ned tried to encourage her to be kinder, warmer to the boy - with a consistent reminder that the boy did not ask to be born but had been born all the same - he knew that, for as long as he clung to the lie he'd told, she could never see Jon as anything but a reminder of her husband's betrayal. There would be no warmth or love spared from Catelyn to Jon, no matter how Ned might have pleaded.

"There were many a time where the words sat precariously at the tip of my tongue. It was not that I worried about my marriage, Jon. Although it had been difficult when I'd first returned, I had faith in our ability to persevere." Ned falls quiet for a moment, considering Jon's features for a moment. The relief Ned had felt when the boy maintained his northern features, the fear he carried at the thought of Targaryen bleeding through .. He can remember it all with as much intensity as he'd felt back then. "No, what pained me was her treatment of you and your well-being. When I'd see the hurt in your face at her rejection, those were the moments in which I was most tempted to tell. I hope you understand now, as a man grown, why I needed to keep your identity concealed. Not only to keep the promise to my sister, but also to keep you safe. I did not mean to make your life harder because of it."

"I know you didn't mean to make my life harder, Father," Jon said. As a man now, he understood, and he didn't want to have Ned carry that burden any longer. It had been a difficult choice to make but he didn't know if he'd have done any different, should the situation be reversed.

"I know that you loved me and I know it put a wedge between you and your wife."

"Children needn't worry about the state of their parents' marriage or relationship. I did my best to hide such things from you, and your siblings. Those are burdens and shadows a parent should never pass onto their offspring." Ned implored Catelyn to have their more personal and private conversations behind the closed door of their bedchamber, not believing it anyone else's business what went on between them - as well as wanting to spare their children from the often harsh world of man- or womanhood.

"But I am glad that, despite all that went on before, you are able to know the truth now. And if I am grateful for nothing else, I find myself thanking whatever brought us here that it should give you the opportunity to get to know the woman who gave her life for yours."

"Aye, I'm glad to know Lyanna. I still cannot believe I'm not yours in truth but I guess it makes more sense that I'm not. You're too loyal to your lady wife to have ever gone astray, even early on in your marriage."

Jon huffed out a soft sound, a laugh if it weren't so sad.

"I'm afraid I'm the same way. Blood runs true, doesn't it?"

"Although you are not mine by blood, you are just as much mine as your siblings," Ned reminds him with great affection. He might not have had a hand in his creation, but there was no other man who raised him and taught him as a father should. He lets out a quiet quake of a laugh. "Robert spent many years attempting to learn more about the mysterious woman who'd convinced me to forget my honor, as he put it."

She had, of course, been falsified. Wylla had been a real person - the wet nurse to Edric Dayne - but she had never been Ned's lover, nor had she been the one to give birth to Jon.

"There are far worse things to be, Jon, than loyal. If anything, we saw far too little of it back home." His expression, stern as he spoke, softens. "I'd always wondered whether you'd inherit your mother's Wolf's Blood as you grew."

"I am more wolf than dragon," Jon said. This he said emphatically, knowing it to be true, because it was the wolf that taught him to be loyal and the wolf that taught him to survive. He inherited none of that from the dragon.

His dark hair and eyes, his long face - those were of the wolf, too, and none of the Targaryen who fathered him. So far as Jon was concerned, Lyanna was his mother, yes, but he was Stark through and through.

"There wouldn't be a fool in all of Westeros who'd say differently," Ned agrees with an emphatic nod. The fact of his wolf lineage is how Ned was so easily able to sell the myth of having had an affair so early in his marriage. Had he returned with a child with silver hair or violet eyes or skin as pale as cream, he'd never had been able to convince the others that he'd been Jon's father. "You were meant to be a Northerner."

Jon laughed a bit. "I was always meant to be a northerner, both by looks and by actions. I rarely smile, Father, and they say that is a northern trait."

He gave his father a long look, trying to assess him as an outsider. "How did a northern man end up with a southern wife anyway?"

"I am afraid you learnt such a thing from me," Ned replies, allowing aforementioned rarity of a smile to flash through, followed by a rumbling burst of laughter. Lord Eddard Stark, a man with cold eyes to reflect the coldness of his heart. Words said only by those who knew him least.

"You'd not been told the story of my family? Your uncle and grandfather?" Ned asks, brows lifted with surprise.

"I know some of it," Jon admitted. "Though I didn't pay much attention to the parts that involved Lady Catelyn. I was more focused on the part where the Mad King had your brother and father executed."

That had been particularly important and had colored his opinion of Targaryens deeply - it seemed that it would take a lot of other evidence to undo that particular bit of history.

"But I don't know anything about your wife."

Ned nods solemnly, still obviously deeply affected by the events, regardless of how long ago they had taken place. He remembers encountering Jamie Lannister in the Throne Room at King's Landing, how he'd had the audacity to bring up the deaths of Brandon and his Father, pointing out the very locations in which they'd been killed.

With a passing tenseness in his jaw, Ned exhales a bit of a sigh.

"Lady Catelyn had been betrothed to my elder brother, Brandon, when she was twelve. An arrangement between my father and hers. When your uncle was on his way back to Riverrun, he'd heard about our sister's disappearance. He immediately altered his path and rode south to King's Landing instead, where he was executed with my father - as you already know. Following his death, Lord Tully arranged for she and I to wed instead." He offers a wry smile. It's obvious to all who know Lady and Lord Stark that their love for each other saw no bounds, but he'd certainly had his doubts on all the days leading to the wedding. "That is how a northern man finds a southron wife."

🍂 autumn fades

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/sobs/ i have so many feelings about this

so many stark emotions

/lays on the floor and ponders life and existence

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