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Chapter 3 Part 3
=Sith=
290 AC
Winterfell
The North
Eddard waited for Maester Luwin to check on Jon and ensured that servants would draw the boy a bath and have light food waiting for him when he was done and summoned his Lady Wife. After that, he retreated to the solar, for it was time for some hard truths. Luwin was also present because the good man couldn't have missed how Jon's eyes changed.
"My Lady, I hope what I am about to tell you won't cause you undue distress," Ned leaned on his desk and reluctantly looked Cat in the eye.
"My Lord? What could be possibly amiss?"
"It's Jon's eyes, aye, Lord Stark?" trust Luwin to go straight to the point.
"They changed because of the fever. They betray Jon's parentage," Eddard reluctantly admitted.
"What does the boy have to do with anything?" Catelyn scoffed.
Under almost any other circ*mstances, his wife would be right, Ned mussed. Jon's parentage should have been only an issue for him and a stain on his honor, nothing more and nothing less.
"Jon's my nephew, Cat. His mother was my sister, Lyanna," Saying it aloud after all these years hurt. Resentment bubbled in Eddard's heart at how stupid his beloved sister had been. At Rhaegar for being a loves-stuck fool. Frosty anger, colder than winter winds, sliced through him at the thought of Aerys and the Kingslayer, who denied Ned the vengeance he craved.
"Rhaegar," Cat whispered and blanched, going pale.
"The truth could have killed us all, even before recent events," Ned tried to justify himself.
"You let me hate that boy and resent him as a danger to our trueborn children for years, my Lord Husband! You let me wonder if your heart belonged to another!" Catelyn accused.
Ned recoiled at that. He didn't think things through, did he? Eddard thought about further justifying himself but thought better, for his arguments felt false when he thought of them.
"You are right, my Lady," Ned sighed and lowered his head in shame.
"What is this about his eyes, my Lord Husband?" Cat inquired.
"Jon's eyes are purple now," Luwin explained.
"His uncle awoke magic in Essos. Why not Jon, too? You've heard Old Nan's stories as well, haven't you, Cat?"
"Those should have been children's stories, Ned," Catelyn tiredly slumped in her chair. "Magic should have been gone of this world, and we would have been better for it," she rubbed her belly and frowned. "Jon can't stay here. People will notice. He's a danger of a very different kind now."
"Aye. I think about fostering Jon with Howland Reed. My friend is the only one remaining who knows the truth about Jon. He can keep him safe and out of sight."
Late that night, when his nephew felt better, Eddard summoned the boy to his solar. In preparation, he went to the crypts with the Maester. Lor Stark retrieved a chest, which he stashed in his sister's crypt upon his return from Robert's Rebellion. It contained a few letters from Lyanna and Rhaegar, as well as his sister's wedding cloak and the prince's famous harp.
"Father?" Ned winced at that word.
"Sit, Jon. We need to talk. Have you seen how your fever changed you?" Eddard's treacherous tongue refused to go straight to the point.
"I feel weaker, father. Tired…. But…," various emotions passed through Jon's face faster than Eddard could recognize them all. There was confusion, wonder, a flash of fear. "I feel like my blood is singing if that makes any sense…" the boy muttered.
Ned closed his eyes and sighed. Aye, it made a painful amount of sense.
"Have you heard the rumors about the last Targaryens?" He asked instead.
"That they're some kind of witches now?"
"That and more. Your eyes are purple now, Jon. It seems Viserys Targaryen wasn't the only one to awake magic recently."
The look of bafflement on Jon's face clawed at Ned's heart.
"This isn't how I wanted to tell you about your mother, Jon. You are too young, and all I wanted was to protect you," Eddard said, yet he couldn't help but wonder how much of his words was the truth.
"My mother!?" Jon perked up. "Is she alive!? Did she want me?!" Jon blurted out. His face lit up like the sun at high noon.
At that, Ned averted his eyes.
"She wanted you very much, Jon. When I reached her, she was sick with a birthing fever. Your mother lived only long enough to name you. I promised I would keep you safe."
Ned couldn't watch how his nephew's, nay, his son's hopes collapsed and burned.
"Why didn't you tell me if she had been dead for years now, my Lord?" Jon's emotionless tone carved up Eddard's bleeding heart.
"Because of who your father was, Jon. Your mother was my sister Lyanna. Your father was Rhaegar Targaryen. They ran away together, and the rest is bloody history."
When Ned finally raised his head, he saw Jon shaking his head in denial.
"Why did she have to die? Why was there a war if they ran together!?" Jon exclaimed once he stopped shaking in denial.
"Aerys was mad. Lya and Rhaegar might have been fools, but the war didn't begin with them. It started in King's Landing, with Aerys," Ned pointed at the chest. "I have a few things from your parents and letters they wrote for you before you were born."
"What am I supposed to do now, uncle? Who am I even?!"
"You are my flesh and blood, Jon. Now and always. You are pack!" Eddard proclaimed, and he meant it.
At those words, Jon relaxed a bit.
"Jon, your eyes… they will raise questions when people see them. We will be having guests from the South soon. I… you can't stay here…" Ned told his nephew the rest.
"You are sending me away?!" Jon exclaimed, sounding like a wounded animal.
"I don't want to! However, the truth is now more dangerous than ever, Jon! It can kill us all! I don't want you to leave, nephew! However, that's not an option. I'll send you to Howard Reed, a good friend of mine. He is the only one else who knows the truth. Howlard was with me when I went to retrieve your mother."
Jon shook his head while his face twisted into a grimace of doom and gloom.
=Sith=
290 AC
Magister Mopatis mansion
Pentos
Almost two months after the first ruinous rumors about Viserys reached King's Landing, Varys found himself in Pentos, visiting his old friend and accomplice. Unsullied guards led him deep into the mansion, in a room where they could dine, wine, and, most importantly, talk without anyone overhearing them.
"Look at us, Varys!" Illyrio exclaimed when he saw his guest. "We've both grown fat on success," he chuckled good-naturedly.
"Illyrio," Varys smiled a rare, genuine smile. "It is certainly better than scrapping a living on the streets," the spymaster sat down and poured himself sweet wine from Yu-Ti.
"You didn't come all the way here to visit an old friend," Mopatis' genial smile slid off his face. His lips turned down into a slight frown. "I admit I didn't see this kind of mishap coming."
"More damned magic," Varys shuddered. "Of course, it's magic that ruins our plans!" He drank some wine and waited a few moments to let it calm him down.
"Aegon is still safe and sound, protected by a man who would die before allowing any harm befall him," Illyrio reminded his accomplice. "No one but us knows the truth."
"Yes…" Varys hummed. "The Targaryens aren't strictly necessary. Viserys is the problem anyway. The girl could be useful or not; it doesn't matter."
"I am sad to say that he is going to be a big problem, even if he goes mad like his father," Illyrio pointed out. "I saw his handiwork. You know I was a deft hand with a blade, and you've seen your share of carnage, even if you didn't wield the weapons that caused it."
"That's true," Varys allowed.
"The boy is dangerous, friend. We have to remove him before he can become even deadlier. No matter what foul sorcery he wields, Viserys is still young."
Varys closed his eyes at the implications of those words. Chill went down his spine at the thought of a Sorcerer Viserys living long enough to become a seasoned menace.
"That is why I am here," the Master of Whisperers smiled wanly. "The Crown and Tywin Lannister offer fortune and a Lordship with a keep to whoever brings them Viserys Targaryen's head. I will visit the Temple of the Black and White next to see if we can pay the price the Faceless would require. Viserys Targaryen must die."
"What about the girl?" Illyrio wondered.
"She should die too. If not, Viserys's fortunate demise might leave her in a position to be useful. She will have an Unsullied guard and some wealth to her name," Varys decided. "What better way to reinforce Aegon's claim than to wed her?"
That was Daenerys Targaryen's only use for them alive, after all. She would either be an asset, or a danger to be rid off. Viserys could have been a valuable tool to pave the way for Aegon, but now had to die.
=Sith=
AN: Finally, we have all relevant players on the stage, beyond any enemies Viserys is about to make by trying to seize Astapor.
