As soon as Catelyn finished her explanation, the expression on Ned's face changed completely.
The warm, hopeful and the happy look he had worn moments earlier on his face was replaced by pure shock and disbelief. Whatever he had heard, he could scarcely bring himself to believe it. The explanation Catelyn had given him sounded like something straight out of Old Nan's tales from his childhood. There was no logical explanation for it.
"Beasts? Animals biting?" he mumbled in disbelief. "No evidence of casualties or even the presence of forces fighting for Jon's side?"
"Does it mean he had animals fighting for him?" He questioned. He knew about those tales. About Wargs and Skinchangers? But could he bring himself to believe that Jon was one of those? No! Absolutely not! But what other explanation did he have?
Catelyn nodded. "Those are only rumours for now. It would take some time before the authenticity of any such news can be established. It could well be some made up fantasy story by a few foolish people."
"Smoke does not rise without fire, Catelyn," Ned said, shaking his head. "If all the rumours coming across the narrow sea point to the same thing, then there must be some truth to it."
Catelyn offered no response. She had to admit. Ned was right.
"Once more verified reports come in, Lysa will surely send more letters," she said quietly.
Ned nodded, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. A deep, quiet worry crept into his features. He could only wonder. What was Jon up to now? How he wished he could get more news right away.
(Ned Stark POV)
I had till now been able to bring myself to terms with the transformation that had occurred in Jon. How had he changed so suddenly? He had been nothing more than an average child all the years he remained in Winterfell. As a fighter, he had been average. He did not stand out in any field. Be it sword wielding or their lessons with Maester Luwin, Robb had constantly proved himself better than Jon.
And though I would have been proud if Jon had shown some exceptional talent, I had also been relieved that he was mediocre. Being mediocre meant that he would not draw attention. And that was exactly what I had wanted. I could not have afforded to expose his true identity. He would have been in grave danger. Even if somehow I had convinced Robert to spare, which in itself was almost impossible, the Lannisters would not have tolerated a Targaryen in Westeros. To see a Lannister on the iron throne, Tywin Lannister would be willing to fall to any level.
But, had it all been a decoy on Jon's part? Had he been hiding his true self? Or had something happened? The moment he stepped out of Winterfell, he had transformed completely. He had conquered cities and was on the verge of creating an empire. And he had done nothing on his back. He had captured Astapor with him and a single girl on his side? And where had he got all that gold that he showed to the slave masters?
He had more than sixty thousand trained warriors under his command. A standing, permanent army. Their only aim was to fight and conquer territories. The entire Westeros combined might struggle to field so many trained men.
The economy of his cities was doing wonders. Although I winced at the fact that Jon was running pleasure houses, I could not deny their brilliance. And even then, I had to admit the goodness of it, that through these pleasure houses, Jon had improved the lives of the women working in them. They were no longer subjected to the brutality of the old system. They were paid more and lived more comfortable lives.
And then there were his alcohols. Wines, beers, vodka and others. They were ingenious in themselves. The vodka had become my personal favourite, and despite the distance between Slaver's Bay and the North, there was no shortage of Jon's alcohol in my realm. A lot of merchants were constantly travelling across the narrow sea to bring those drinks to Westeros.
And the brick, cement, and paint. Very little had reached Winterfell due to the distance, but these three items were truly game changing. With them, even the poor could dream of having a permanent roof over their heads.
Jon had become what his destiny could have been. A king. Although he was not sitting on the Iron Throne, he was a king nonetheless. And given how things were progressing, he might rule a land nearly as large as Westeros itself.
But what if he learned the truth? What if he learned his true identity? I was not sure when I would see Jon again, but I was sure that whenever that day came, he would demand answers from me. He would ask about his mother. And this time he would not relent.
What would I tell him? Would I be able to speak the truth? Or would I tell him another lie? And if I told him the truth, what decision would he make? Would he lay claim to his birthright? To the Iron Throne?
I could not tell myself anymore that I must keep that secret to myself to protect Jon. With the power at his back, he did not need my protection. And how powerful he would be when we actually meet? What would I do in such a scenario?
Lost in my thoughts, I had not realised when I had arrived near the training yard of Winterfell. From the corridor below me, I could see Robb sparring with Rodrik Cassel. He was becoming a fine warrior with each passing day.
And though I could not quite place it, the series of news that came to us about Jon had affected Robb quite a lot, and he had changed in many ways. He did not open up to anyone about it, but maybe he would express his feelings someday. Hopefully, these were all positive changes.
Standing at the edge of the arena was Theon Greyjoy, grinning with a smirk on his lips. The day Jon had fled, he had shown a little bit of what he was capable of. He had thrashed Theon mercilessly, and though the issue between the two had not been very big, I had an instinctive feeling that Theon and Jon were not going to get along very well.
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