Chapter 3 - The Young Messiah (III)

Chapter 3 - 3 - The Young Messiah (III)"There is no escape; we pay for the violence of our ancestors" - thought Aenar Targaryen under the hate-filled eyes of King Baratheon.

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Jon awoke in his bed; his eyes calm despite the incredible experience that had just taken place. Meeting Visenya Targaryen, the first queen of Westeros, was a pleasant encounter that he had not foreseen with his prescience.

He quickly realized that time in the time-space nexus was different from the real world, he had spent days training with Visenya, but looking out the window it hadn't been more than a few hours, it looked like he had taken a simple nap.

Remembering the old but undeniably strong woman pointing her sword at him, Jon felt his lips curl into a smile.


Getting out of bed, he walked over to a bucket and washed his face. It was his favorite time of day, breakfast, and perhaps the last breakfast he would have with his uncle before he went off to war again after six years of rebellion.

After making sure there was nothing wrong with his clothes, Jon left the room without a second thought. The corridors of Winterfell were busier than ever.

Warriors and more warriors passed him, some looking at him with curiosity, others with thinly veiled disdain. But most ignored him as if he didn't even exist.

Jon didn't know if it hurt more to be despised or ignored, but he was used to such looks and continued his walk until he reached the mess hall where everyone ate every morning, lunch and dinner.

Opening the doors to the hall, Jon found his family eating along with several other northern lords, the most prominent of whom were Big Jon of House Umber and Jorah of House Mormont, along with his aunt Maege Mormont.

The only reason for mentioning Jorah was that the man had a very important role to play in the future, otherwise Jon wouldn't even look at a man who would sell people in the future to satisfy a pompous, self-centered woman.



"You have arrived, Jon. Come and sit beside me." Jon's attention was drawn to the powerful yet strangely calm voice.

Eddard Stark, Lord of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Lord Paramount of the North.

Jon noticed that the man was young, twenty-six years old, with brown hair down to his shoulders and dark gray eyes that could be as soft as mist or as hard as stone when angry.

Standing next to the Warden of the North was the son of House Stark, Robb Stark, a child of six who, with his auburn hair and blue eyes, looked like his mother in every way.

On the left was the Lady of the North and daughter of the noble House Tully, beautiful and elegant with her red hair and blue eyes. If Jon hadn't met her, he would have taken her for a virtuous woman. Unfortunately, she was only virtuous in appearance, nothing more than a trophy wife with no backbone and no respect for the traditions of the North.

The woman could be especially cruel when she wanted to, wishing him dead and doing many other unkind things to a child.

In her arms was a girl who bore an unmistakable resemblance to her, the eldest daughter of House Stark, Sansa Stark, who was no more than one years old.

She was the cutest thing in the world, but she would become an exact copy of her mother, dreaming of princes and knights of the south. Something she might regret in the future if he didn't stop certain things from happening.

That was all House Stark for now, there would be more to come, but he put that aside for a moment before sitting down next to Robb, ignoring the dangerous, deadly stare that fell upon him.

"I thought you overslept." Robb commented with a smile as he devoured a chicken leg. His eyes met Jon's dark purple ones and he smiled amicably.

They were brothers, except for the blood that ran through their veins.

Jon shrugged and answered nonchalantly, lying as normally as he breathed. "It was hard to sleep with all that noise the night before."

Robb agreed, the mobilization of the army was indeed noisy.

As he tore off a piece of bread and put it in his mouth, Jon felt the deadly stare next to him again. Lifting his gaze, he saw the blue eyes of Catelyn Stark, born Tully, staring at him without hiding the disgust in her eyes.



Swallowing his bread, Jon drank some water and asked nonchalantly. "Something wrong, Lady Stark?"

Jon's words drew the attention of all the lords present, who watched with amusement at what was about to happen.

"A bastard can't dine with us." Catelyn didn't care that her husband was present and spoke without hiding her extreme dislike for the bastard.

Robb looked at his mother with a frown, the same look that was on the Lord of Winterfell's face at that moment. Robb was unhappy with his mother's words, while Eddard was unhappy with his wife's attitude toward their bannermen. What would they think of him? A man who couldn't control his wife?

Letting out a laugh that left everyone looking at the six-year-old in surprise, Jon replied calmly. "The last time I remember, I was invited to sit down by Lord Stark; as a vassal, I must obey my lord. Are you saying your will is above that of your own husband and lord, Lady Stark?"

Jon didn't stop and landed another blow on Catelyn. "Worthy of a Seven-worshipping southerner who despises our ways."

If everyone had been watching the fun before, now all the lords were looking at Catelyn with increasingly unfriendly eyes. They already didn't like the fact that their lord had married a southerner, especially after the woman opened a Seven Church in Winterfell. Jon's words only reminded them of the dislike they felt for Lady Stark.

And it was so simple that Jon wanted to laugh right then, but he held himself back as he prepared to watch the show while Catelyn dug her own grave and jumped in alone without him doing anything.

Although the woman had beauty, she definitely didn't have enough intelligence, something that few women in this world had, given the little or no education they received from their noble houses.

There were few truly intelligent women in this world, Olenna Tyrell being one of the few, the fame of the Queen of Thorns circulating for years even in the far north.

As Catelyn felt the increasingly unfriendly looks being thrown her way, she felt her cheeks flush with shame and anger, her eyes practically spitting flames from how angry she was at the moment.

Not only had she been despised by a bastard, she had thrown him to the lions to defend herself against accusations of disloyalty.

Unfortunately, Jon had forgotten that his uncle was present. How could a husband fail to defend his wife?

"Enough!" Eddard spoke, his voice causing the many eyes of the lords to turn away and go back to eating, though some still looked at Catelyn with much dissatisfaction in their eyes - Jon Umber and Maege Mormont.

Jon ate his bread with a vague disappointment in his eyes, but when he noticed Eddard's look, he quickly hid his expression and ate with an innocent look on his face as he winked playfully at the Lord Paramount of the North.



He just snorted coldly as he went back to eating, probably planning how to scold him when he returned from the war.

Jon wasn't worried about that; with Eddard Stark gone to war, Winterfell would be handed over to a temporary regent, and the regent was obviously Catelyn Stark, Lady of Winterfell.

He could foresee that Catelyn would make his life a living hell when Eddard wasn't around. But the heir to the Iron Throne wasn't worried.

First, he had plenty of ways to make the Redfish regret her choices, and second, he could live in the forest for a few months without a problem.

So he really wasn't worried at all about what his life would be like if Eddard went to war against House Greyjoy.

"Sorry about my mother, Jon." Robb said, sitting down next to Jon, his voice lower than usual and showing a bit of embarrassment on the boy's part. Unlike Sansa in the future, Robb actually treated him like a real brother. His mother's actions seemed to hurt the boy more than Jon himself, who was the target of the insults.

"Don't worry, if I cared about other people's words, I would have killed myself a long time ago." Jon placed his hand on the Heir of Winterfell's shoulder and spoke with a small smile. Just as Robb treated him like a brother, Jon treated Robb like a brother; the two were inseparable, especially during swordplay lessons.

The smile returned to Robb's face at Jon's words, and he began to eat, sharing the start of his day.

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