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The morning after the combined celebration for the marriage of Asher Forrester and Gwyn Whitehill, the announcement of the betrothal between Sansa Stark and Willas Tyrell, and Robb Stark's ascension to the rank of Apprentice, the halls, and indeed most of Winterfell, was cast in a deafening silence as the night's activities took their toll on the residents. Even the servants, who were usually up with the sun, could not escape the toll of their revelry and most were forced to seek the nearest chamber pot or the darkest corner they could find to try and alleviate some of the pain they were feeling. It was certainly not a sight that Robb Stark was used to seeing. 'Not that I can blame anyone for wanting to seek their own beds today,' Robb thought as he slowly made his way through the halls, doing his best not to make too much noise as he did. 'If not for Talisa, I know that I would be in the same shape as everyone else. Talisa…'
If he could see his own face, he knew that he would have the dumbest grin ever plastered across it. And he didn't care. Sure, he had enjoyed himself last night. Perhaps a little too much in fact. But the revelry of the previous night was not the reason for his good mood. No, that lied solely with the beauty from Volantis who Robb was now positive he was completely in love with. The beauty that stayed by his side the entire night. The beauty that had half-carried half-dragged his sorry ass to bed when he could barely walk under his own power. The same beauty who, despite his state, stayed with him the entire night. And the same beauty that he woke up to and gave him a mug of a foul-smelling concoction that somehow managed to at least lessen the hammering in his head. 'I don't care what it takes. What concessions I need to make with my bannermen or what I need to do to convince them. But Talisa will become the next Lady of Winterfell, I swear on the old gods she will,' Robb swore to himself as he made his way towards the corridor that held Jon's room.
His brother had two separate chambers, one in the main keep and one in the Sorcerer's Tower. While he knew that Jon preferred to sleep in the tower, he was sure that if his brother was in even half as bad a shape as he was, then there was no way he would've made it to the Tower last night. His suspicions were confirmed as he pressed on the door to his brethren's room, only to find it barred from the inside. 'I don't want to intrude…but by the gods I need to talk to Jon! Even though we didn't even kiss, at least I made some headway with Talisa last night!' he thought excitedly as he used the Force to quietly undo the latch on the other side of the door. "Jon, you're not going to believe this, but—"
His words died on his tongue as he got a good look into the room. His brother was on his bed, eyes closed and sound asleep. But on his chest was a mess of dark curls, which were attached to the head of Princess Arianne Martell. And up higher on the bed, positioned so that Jon's head was pressed firmly against her breasts, was the red-haired spearwife Ygritte. All three were sleeping soundly. With only a few blankets that were carelessly arranged across their bodies…and which did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that all three were completely bare as the day they were born!
Backing out slowly, Robb closed the door as softly as he could while he tried to fully wrap his mind around what he'd just seen. Jon. His brother. Perhaps the most honorable man Robb had ever met besides their father. Was naked. In bed. With a wildling spearwife. And the Princess of Dorne. And, by the way they were still sound asleep, despite him walking into the room… They were all clearly exhausted. By the gods! Theon would never, ever, be able to brag about his prowess between the sheets again! Ever! And if anyone deserved to have this happen to him, it was definitely Jon.
Smiling, Robb began making his way back the way he came but came to an almost immediate stop as he realized that he was not the only one awake at this hour. And the person walking towards him while calmly humming was perhaps the last person Robb wanted to see right now. Or rather he was sure that this person would be the last person his brother ever saw should he find him in his current state. "Prince Oberyn," Robb said hurriedly, trying to divert the man from going any further, "I had not expected to see you awake at sunrise this morning."
The Red Viper of Dorne smiled easily as he nodded his head in greeting. "And a fine morning to you as well, young Stark. I will admit, with the amount you drank last night I am more than slightly surprised to find you not only awake but seemingly perfectly fine."
Nodding, Robb resisted the urge to look behind him towards his brother's chambers. "Lady Talisa had me drink some strange brew this morning. It tasted absolutely foul. But after drinking it, I feel better than I have any right to."
Prince Oberyn nodded. "A good life lesson to learn, young wolf. Never underestimate the healing powers of a good woman. And speaking of which, I am curious if you have seen my niece anywhere. I lost track of her last night and she was not in her chambers this morning. Considering the festivities and drinks that were flowing last night, I would hate to think that someone tried to take advantage of a Princess of Dorne."
'Oh gods! Jon…you owe me for this one!' "Um, Princess Arianne," Robb responded lamely, desperately trying to come up with something to tell perhaps one of the deadliest men in all of the Seven Kingdoms. "I – uh –"
Whatever he'd been about to say died on his tongue as Prince Oberyn raised his hand. Surprisingly, the Red Viper of Dorne was smiling. "There is no need to try and spin a tale, young wolf. You're not experienced enough to spin one that I would find believable anyway. And besides, I already know exactly where my niece is located. She's in your brother's bed. Along with that spearwife that he brought back from north of the Wall."
Robb's stomach dropped as fear for his brother's continued survival came to the forefront of his mind. 'Yet, the Prince isn't armed. And he's even…smiling? Is he…Is he not upset with Jon bedding Arianne? And Ygritte. At the same time?' "Um, what – what do you plan on doing, Prince Oberyn?"
His smile never fading, Oberyn took a step closer to him. Robb's entire body tensed, yet he could sense no danger coming from the Force. So, he forced himself to stay still as the Prince of Dorne patted his shoulder with his hand. "Don't worry, lad. My niece is her own woman, and old enough to make her choices and understand the consequences of them. Considering it's your brother who is in her bed, I know full well just who was the initiator of their activities. And from my own personal point of view, the only way she perhaps could've chosen a better way to spend her night is if she managed to get yourself and Talisa in bed with the three of them as well. Though, that would be me, not my niece. So, I suppose bedding the White Wolf of Winterfell and a wildling spearwife will have to be enough of an accomplishment for now."
Robb blanched at the idea. Not of bedding more than one woman because he was relatively sure that every man would take that opportunity if it was presented to him. But rather it was the idea of sharing a bed in that manner with his own brother! "I—uh, I don't think—"
The Prince of Dorne laughed once more and patted his shoulder again. "You Northmen need to take a lesson from your new brethren from north of the Wall and relax sometimes. Nothing's wrong with a good bout of sex. Now, seeing as how I know that my dear niece is in good and capable hands, I will return to my own room and Ellaria's warmth. Take care, young wolf."
Robb had been knocked so off balance by the whole encounter that he was able to do little more than watch as the Red Viper turned around and walked back the way he came. Only after the man had disappeared around the corner did Robb release the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in. 'By the gods…What in all the hells just happened?'
Whistling a light tune to himself, Oberyn calmly walked down the deserted corridors of Winterfell away from the Heir of the North. The look on the lad's face when he'd mentioned he was looking for Arianne was just about priceless. Of course, he knew full well where Arianne had decided to end up last night. After all, Ellaria had provided his niece and the spearwife with the undergarments that they had planned to use to break the White Wolf. 'Or rather the White Dragon,' Oberyn smirked as he found a stairway and, instead of heading down towards his room, instead climbed upwards. 'Though that doesn't have quite the same ring to it. The Snow Dragon? The Winter Dragon? The Dragonwolf? Hm. I suppose it doesn't matter. At least right now in any case. Dorne has gotten what we were looking for, even if my niece isn't fully aware of it yet. After last night, I'm positive that Arianne has Jon wrapped around her finger. And as for whether Jon knows his true parentage…the lad hid it well. But he spent far too much time with Maester Aemon at the Wall for the two of them just to have simple discussions. No. He was spending time with the last member of his father's family that still resides on this side of the Narrow Sea.'
Coming to the uppermost level of the great keep of Winterfell, Oberyn made the short journey down the hall until he reached a door that had a single guard standing watch. 'Poor man,' Oberyn smirked, noticing how the guard was leaning heavily on his spear. 'Wonder who he pissed off to draw guard duty first thing this morning.'
The man was so out of it that Oberyn was nearly within arm's reach before the guardsman even realized he was no longer alone in the hall. "Um – Prince Oberyn," the man stumbled over his words, clearly still suffering from the effects of too much drink the night before.
"No need to be so formal, man," Oberyn smiled easily. "I've come to see Lord Stark. Given the sun has risen, I assume that he is already up and working?"
The door behind the man opened before he could say anything, accompanied by the strong voice of the Quiet Wolf. "Come in, Prince Oberyn."
Walking past the guardsman, Oberyn didn't fail to notice that Lord Stark was indeed situated at his desk and hard at work despite the early time of day. The giant wolf, Winter, was laid out across the front of his desk. The direwolf easily surpassing the length of the desk and nearly matching it in height even though it was laying on its side. 'A desk which is across the room from the door,' Oberyn noted as he closed and latched the door behind him. 'A door which he managed to open while still seated at his desk. Apparently, the pups are not the only ones who have benefited from Nox's tutelage.'
"Is there something you need, Prince Oberyn?" Stark asked, the man not even bothering to look up from whatever paperwork he was working on.
"Just came to inform you that we will be taking our leave soon," Oberyn replied calmly, taking one of the few empty chairs in the room, which put him directly across from Stark and right in front of the giant wolf.
"Oh?" Stark asked, setting his quill back into the ink pot and meeting his eyes for the first time since he'd entered the room.
"Yes," Oberyn nodded. "During our absence, my niece and your daughter, alongside Lady Nox, worked on finalizing a better trade deal between Dorne and the North. Which, unless my eyes deceive me is what you are going over right now. So now that Dorne is…satisfied, we will no longer be a drain on your resources. Though I will admit that I have enjoyed my time here in the North far more than I thought I would. Seeing sights even I have never seen. A good battle. And a fantastic night last night with my dear Ellaria and a stolen Free Folk couple. Adventure, fighting, and good sex. What more could I hope for? Speaking of sex, there isn't some half naked woman that's going to be trying to sneak out of your bed while I'm here, is there? I just don't want her to embarrass herself, nor you."
Stark gave him a flat look. "There is no need to be concerned about that occurring, Prince Oberyn."
"No?" Oberyn asked, his interest now piqued. "That is…unfortunate. I do believe that you are perhaps the only individual in all of Winterfell that is of age and did not enjoy the company of another in your bed in one form or another last night. You do know that every unmarried woman, and even some of the married, would jump at the opportunity to share the bed of the famed 'Quiet Wolf' even if only for a night? Hells, even my paramour Ellaria spoke on how she would be willing to share your bed should the opportunity arise. Please don't tell me that you haven't indulged yourself as of late?"
Oberyn had a moment of concern as he felt a shiver pass over him as Stark's eyes turned yellow for the briefest of moments before reverting to their steel-grey coloring. "My lady wife has passed from this world, Prince Oberyn."
"Almost a year past now, Stark," Oberyn countered. "Please do not tell me that you have gone without another's warmth in your bed in all that time? Gods, no wonder you are so stressed, Stark. If I had known that you've gone celibate sooner, I would've all but insisted that Ellaria share your bed. I can guarantee that after one night with my paramour, you will be more relaxed than you have ever felt in your life."
Stark turned his eyes away from him and stared off into the distance. "I will not shame the memory of my lady wife."
Sighing, Oberyn shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know where you get this whole sex is a besmirching of honor and a point of shame. I think I blame the Vale because gods know the people of the North I've met and those beyond the Wall are not shy about a good bout of sex. But those uptight holier-than-thou Valemen? Well, that is a whole other story. I honestly believe that most of them read the Seven-Pointed Star before and after a night in the bedroom. But you, Stark? You are no Valeman. You're a man of the North and a worshiper of the old gods. Honestly, do you truly believe that your late lady wife would want you to deprive yourself of physical company for the rest of your life? You don't need to marry the lass, just approach one and try your luck, I doubt any would say no. And if it's discretion you're worried about, the girls who work the brothel are known to be very discrete, especially if it's for a high-ranking client such as yourself."
Oberyn knew that he was getting through to the stoic Warden of the North, even if the man didn't want to admit it, because he didn't outright dismiss the suggestion. 'He's more than likely now realizing just how much he misses sex, even if he won't admit it aloud.'
"Is there anything else you needed from me, Prince Oberyn?"
Sensing the dismissal for what it was, and content with taking his small victory, Oberyn shook his head and got to his feet. "No, I just wanted to inform you that Dorne has been most satisfied with our time in the North and that we will be soon taking our leave. And now with the announcement of your daughter and Willas's betrothal, not to mention the Lannisters getting one of their own under Nox's tutelage, I imagine that soon enough Winterfell will be back to its usual calm."
"Aye," Stark nodded, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. "It has been a pleasure, Prince Oberyn."
Smiling, Oberyn took the offered hand. "Likewise, Lord Stark." Turning, Oberyn made to leave before pausing and snapping his fingers. "Oh yes, there was one more thing. Your bastard boy, Jon."
It was slight, but Oberyn noticed the way Stark stiffened more than usual. "What of him?"
"I'm merely curious about him," Oberyn said, turning back around fully. "You see my niece, Princess Arianne, has taken quite a liking to the boy. Enough that she even decided to bed him and the spearwife he brought back from the Wall last night." Oberyn just barely managed to contain the laugh that threatened to escape him as he watched Stark struggle to keep his composure after hearing that Jon bedded Arianne. "Don't worry, I do not intend to bring harm upon the boy, quite the opposite in fact. You see, Arianne has her eyes on the boy. And one thing about my niece, once she sets her sights upon something she desires, she is relentless in her pursuit of it. So, I wouldn't be surprised if in the near future you don't receive a potential betrothal offer between Arianne and Jon. He wouldn't be in line to lead Dorne of course, that position lies solely with Arianne as my brother's eldest child. But he would become her Prince Consort and the Sword of Dorne. But there is a slight problem. While we of Dorne do not usually care about whether one is a bastard. But when that individual is marrying into the ruling family, it can become an issue. It would be much easier to ease the people into accepting Jon as their next Prince Consort if it was more widely known that Jon was the son of the late Lady Ashara Dayne. After all, who else could be his mother considering you didn't have him with you until after you left Starfall at the end of the Rebellion. And I'm sure that his true mother would indeed approve of Arianne as a bride for him."
This time, Oberyn did allow himself the slightest bit of a smirk as he watched the Quiet Wolf silently argue with himself over how to answer him. It was clear that Stark suspected that he knew something, though what he knew the man clearly did not know. 'Oh Stark, if only you knew that I know the truth about Jon. It might be easier if I just come out and say it, but that would more than likely cause more than a few problems as I'm still in the heart of the North and don't necessarily feel like fighting my way out of here should Stark decide that I need to be silenced lest I tell more what I know.'
"Jon's mother," Stark began, then stopped as he clearly tried to put his words together before speaking them. "Was a woman unlike any other. A woman I loved. And I will say no more on the matter."
'A woman unlike any other. And a woman you loved. Very open ended, though most would assume that he means Ashara Dayne as their tryst in Harrenhal is not a very well-kept secret. But there is another woman who matches those criteria as well. A woman unlike any other. And a woman Stark loved, as a sister. Lyanna Stark.'
"Very well," Oberyn nodded, deciding not to push the subject further. "Farewell, Stark. But one last thing. As I said, my niece is tenacious. And no secret is safe from her should she wish to find it out."
Returning to the world of the waking was an incredibly slow process for Jon Stark. He didn't want to wake. He was warm. Comfortable. And covered in something so soft and warm that he wanted to do nothing more than to press whatever was against him tighter and bask in the sensation he was feeling. And, for some reason, his entire body was exhausted. Like he'd spent the entire night running and working in the yard. The combination of the warmth, the comfort, the tiredness he felt throughout his body and the fact that he'd just had the best night sleep accompanied by the best dream in his entire life made him want to spend the rest of the day in bed.
"Hmm, stop moving so much, Jon."
"Hm, sorry, Arianne," he muttered, weaving his fingers through her thick hair an rubbing his face against the warmth that was pressed against it as he tried to return to being as still as possible for the woman that was using his chest as a pillow.
Awareness came back to him faster than a crossbow bolt as his eyes snapped open. Laying on his chest was none other than Princess Arianne Martell. Her dark curls and fingers dancing lightly across his chest. And pressed against the side of his head was…was Ygritte's chest. Her arms wrapped around his head with one hand laying against his chest. And – and he could feel every part of each woman's warm body pressed up against his own! Meaning…meaning they were both as bare as he!
The night came flashing back to him as he remembered what had transpired after he'd left the feast. Of arriving back to his chambers in the family wing of the keep only to discover Ygritte and Arianne both waiting for him in his room. Of taking first Arianne with Ygritte whispering in his ear. Then taking Ygritte like an animal. Then taking them both as he laid on his back while Arianne rode his cock and Ygritte rode his face! Then even again after that! And –
"Hmm, well, Ygritte, it seems like we haven't quite worn our wolf out just yet," Arianne murmured as she looked up at him with heat in her eyes even as her warm hand slid down his front and grasped his steadily growing length in her hand. "I would've thought that after taking each of us three times and then twice together would be enough to sate his appetite. But apparently, I was wrong. We've certainly gone and uncaged the wolf…and what a wolf he is."
Jon couldn't help the moan that escaped him as her hand began to move. "If yer too worn-out, Princess, ya can sit this one out," Ygritte commented as she slid down from her spot, her lips tracing his ear and moving down his neck. "It's understandable if yer are. After all, only a true woman can keep up with the appetite of a wolf like this one."
Arianne's grip tightened as her hand moved faster. "I can more than easily keep up with you, wildling."
"W-Wait!" Jon gasped, calling upon every exercise he could think of to try and clear his mind from the fog of pleasure that was once again threatening to consume him.
Ceasing their movements, Arianne tilted her head up and looked at him. Then promptly groaned at what she saw, her head dropping heavily back down onto his chest. "Well…shit. It looks like our honorable fool is back, Ygritte."
Arianne's hand left him, only to come back immediately as she cupped his face with both of her hands and brought her face to within a hair's breadth of his own. "You listen to me and listen well, Jon Stark. What happened last night happened because we wanted it to happen. You did nothing wrong. So, get any silly notion of 'dishonoring' or whatever shit is holding you up right now out of your head! Especially if you want what happened last night to happen again anytime soon."
"The Princess is right, Stark," Ygritte added, her fingers tightening in his hair as she pulled, forcing him to turn to look at her. "There be no shame in a good fuck. And last night was a good dance between the furs. So, none of this sulking shite you wolves are so good at."
"It's – It's not about that!" Jon tried to say, even though a part of his mind, albeit a very small part now, was trying to scream that it was. "I – gods…"
Looking down at Arianne and then over towards Ygritte, Jon knew that he was a lost cause. He wanted them both. And now that he'd had them both, he would never be able to let go of either of them. "Are – Are you two alright with – with this?" he asked slowly. "I mean, both of you. Together. With me?"
Both women glanced at one another before snorting at nearly the same time. "If we weren't alright with this, Stark, do ya think we would've fucked ya together last night?" Ygritte asked in her usual crass manner.
"I – I…gods," Jon breathed, honestly not sure how he was supposed to be handling a situation like this.
"Well, are you done brooding now, Jon?" Arianne asked, her hand once again starting to slowly travel down his body. "Because I do believe I need to show our little wildling spearwife just what it means to try and keep up with a Dornish woman in bed."
"Wait," Jon gasped, once again having to fight against the pleasure threatening to overrun his mind.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, now what, Jon?" Ygritte sighed. "Ya know, most men wouldn't be sayin 'wait' when he's got two women in his bed ready to fuck him senseless."
"No, it's not that! I – I mean gods know I want nothing more than to…well…continue," Jon said, fighting against the reddening of his face. "But I – I need to tell you both something. Something important. Something you both need to know before we continue with…with this."
Ygritte merely scoffed as she swung her legs over the bed and began picking up her clothing from all around the room. Arianne meanwhile didn't move from her spot on his chest, her dark eyes boring into him. No words were spoken as the two continued to look at one another for a few long moments. But eventually Arianne nodded as she realized that he wouldn't budge on the issue and got up, bare as Ygritte as she began searching around the room for her own clothes. Swinging his own legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, Jon was tempted to wrap the sheet around his body to keep some form of modesty. But he quickly forced that notion aside. Both women were strutting around his room as bare as the day they were born and didn't seem the least bit flustered about it. And after last night…well, what more did he have to hide? Especially from these two. Barely a word was uttered as the three of them got dressed, and finally after lacing up the last of Arianne's dress, the two women rounded in on Jon once again.
"So," Ygritte said, clearly agitated. "What is it that ya got ta say that is so important that ya couldn't even wait to say it to give us two what we want?"
"Not here," Jon said quietly. While he trusted the people of Winterfell, he didn't necessarily trust those who were from the south. Excluding Arianne, of course. Especially with what he had to tell the two of them. "I'll tell you when we get to my room in the Sorcerer's Tower. It—It has to do with my mother."
Again, Ygritte didn't necessarily seem to care, but Arianne's eyes lit up when he mentioned his mother. 'I wonder just how long her eyes will stay that way,' he thought sullenly as the three of them left his room in the family wing and made their way out into the open of Winterfell. 'I'm…scared to tell her. Scared that she'll go away. That things will change between us. But…But I – gods help me, I think I love her. I don't want to lose her. And the longer I keep this hidden, the worse it will be if and when she learns the truth of my birth.'
In what seemed like no time at all, the three of them had crossed Winterfell and climbed the stairs within the Sorcerer's Tower. Reaching his room in the tower, Jon immediately opened the door and went for his bed. Kneeling, Jon reached under the bed and used the Force to lift a loose rock, revealing a small hidden compartment the size of a man's head. The only item within was a single slim book that Jon had memorized from front to back. Holding the book in his hand, Jon let his senses flow out, trying to see if there was anyone else in the Tower. But besides from his Master, who immediately pushed back on his probe to such a degree that Jon was nearly sent stumbling, there was no one else in the tower. Walking past Ygritte and Arianne, Jon shut the door to his room and secured the latch to make sure that no one would be able to walk in on them.
"Alright, Stark, you brought us here and ya got some book in yer hand," Ygritte said, plopping herself down on the bed. "Ya gonna tell us what this shite is 'bout' yer mother yet?"
Nodding, Jon slowly turned the book over in his hand. "Aye. This…This is the only thing I have of my mother. Her last words…before she died."
Sensing Arianne approaching, Jon didn't move as she gently rested her hand on his shoulder. "The last words of Ashara Dayne? She sent them to Winterfell?"
"No," Jon replied, shaking his head. "These…Ashara Dayne is not my mother. My mother…She…Gods, it'd be easier if you just read it yourself."
Frowning, Arianne took the slim book from him and immediately began reading. She barely managed to get through the first page before her face went ashen as her hands started trembling. "Your…Your mother is – was…Lyanna Stark?"
Clearly not understanding the significance of the name, Ygritte stared blankly at Jon and Arianne. "Who be she? Lord Stark's first wife or somethin?"
"No," Jon shook his head. "Lyanna Stark was Eddard Stark's sister. And before you ask, while I consider Eddard Stark to be my father, he is not the one who sired me."
"Alright," Ygritte replied slowly. "So, who put ya in yer mother? And why would Lord Stark claim ye as his own if that were not true?"
"Because his father is Rhaegar Targaryen…That fucking silver haired piece of shit!" Arianne cursed loudly through clenched teeth as she had continued reading on while now pacing furiously.
Sitting down next to Ygritte, Jon ran a hand through his hair as he tried to steady his nerves while he watched Arianne continue to pace. "Rhaegar Targaryen was the former Crown Prince, the future King of Westeros. And husband to Elia Martell, Arianne's aunt."
From there, Jon began telling Ygritte and Arianne everything he knew about the events of Harrenhal and the Rebellion that he managed to piece together after talking to his father and reading his mother's last words. From the love affair that blossomed between Elia and Lyanna, to Rhaegar taking his wife away so that she could be his second wife, to the death of his uncle and grandfather at the hands of the Mad King and then the subsequent Rebellion that followed their deaths. Then to the terrible fate that befell Elia Martell when the Lannister army sacked King's Landing. And lastly, he told them both of what happened at the Tower of Joy, where his mother died to bring him into this world. For some strange reason, telling the two the secret of his birth was oddly…relieving. He'd only known the truth for a year now, and it had been weighing heavily on his mind and soul the entire time. Not only the knowing, but also not being able to tell anyone for fear that the wrong ears might catch wind of the secret. He honestly had no idea how his father managed to keep the secret to himself for as long as he had! By the time he finished, Arianne had ceased her pacing and was now sitting down and reading over his mother's words for a second time while Ygritte merely sat in silence trying to work everything out in her head.
"So, yer sire was the future King of all ye kneelers, eh?" Ygritte finally asked as she tilted her head towards him. "Does that mean that ye are the future King of the kneelers then too?"
Folding his hands together and placing them under his nose, Jon leaned forward slightly. "Technically…yes. But if the truth of my birth ever came out…"
"Then it would mean war," Arianne finished for him, closing the book and setting it aside. He dearly wished that he could get a read on her, but she was like a blank slate to him right now, both on the outside and through the Force. "The Baratheons would not stand for a Targaryen Prince to still be alive and in Westeros. Not to mention the likes of the lion fucker, Tywin Lannister. If Jon's status became known both would either send assassins, demand his head, or even march their armies north to personally kill him. And I doubt even Robert's friendship with Lord Stark would give him reason to pause. Then there are those who still hold loyalty to the dragons and would rise in his name, even if he didn't want them to. In short, all of Westeros would be plunged into war. And given what happened during the Rebellion and in the years since then, there is no guarantee that each kingdom would side completely one way or another."
"Which is why I have to remain as the bastard son of Eddard Stark," Jon said, looking at the two women who'd worked their way into his heart in a such a short time. "I – My father would more than likely be furious at me for telling you two this. But I – I couldn't stand keeping this from either of you. And I—I will understand if this changes things between us."
"Why would it change anything between us?" Ygritte asked almost immediately. "It don matter ta me who yer mother or father is. Yer still Jon. Still the man strong enough to steal me in the midst of a battle. An I ain't leavin yer side that easily Stark."
Feeling heartened by Ygritte's response, Jon placed his hand over hers and gave her a smile of thanks before turning towards Arianne. The Princess of Dorne was staring at him with that same blank look and empty feeling that was starting to push Jon towards the brink of despair. "There are many in Dorne that would curse and spit on your name for your very existence," she said, making Jon wince. "But I…I am not one of them. I can tell by reading your mother's words that that my aunt, regardless of Rhaegar's stupidity, loved your mother. And she would roll in her grave if anyone in the Martell family felt anything but love for the son she wanted to share with her love. But tell me true, Jon. Do you plan on putting your name forward and making your claim for the Iron Throne?"
Biting his lip, Jon took a moment to collect himself before answering. "I would be lying if I said I had never thought of it. But truthfully, I do not want the throne. All that would come from me putting my claim forward would be blood and tears. I just want to live my life the way I want to. With you two. Whether it be in Dorne, or here in the North. That is all I want."
Nodding, Arianne rose to her feet. For a moment, Jon was afraid she would turn and leave, but instead she crossed the distance between them and pulled his head into her midriff. "If that is what you want…Then that is what you will have, my wolf. It won't be an easy road for us no matter which path we choose, but together we can face any enemy. Ygritte will take care of those who come at us from afar. Jon will handle those who get close to us. And I will handle the enemies we cannot see. But no matter what or who we face, we will do it together."
Jon's relief was so great that he all but collapsed into Arianne as he brought his arms around her, holding on as if she were his life. Which…wasn't too far from the truth at the moment.
"So, Jon is Jon and we're alright with that, yes?" Ygritte asked, to which he could feel Arianne nod her agreement. "Good. So, now can we get back to the fuckin? Our wolf here neglected me needs for weeks! And I've got quite an appetite that even last night didn't satisfy."