Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn - Chapter 132 - The Child Blamed for the Crimes of Their Parents.

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.] Third Person POV. Gift. ... ... "I know you crossed with almost 200,000 wildlings to this side of the Wall, and

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.] Third Person POV. Gift. ... ... "I know you crossed with almost 200,000 wildlings to this side of the Wall, and

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.] Third Person POV. Gift. ... ... "I know you crossed with almost 200,000 wildlings to this side of the Wall, and

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV.
Gift.

...

...

"I know you crossed with almost 200,000 wildlings to this side of the Wall, and I also know the hatred you hold against the Starks. Perhaps we can reach an agreement..."

"House Bolton offers a union with House Targaryen, and we unite to exterminate the last Starks. My father offers the army of the North against the Lannisters once House Bolton becomes the protector house of the Kingdom of the North. You shall have the loyalty of the Boltons. That is why I ask that we unite to destroy the Starks and Stannis’ army, who is at this very moment stepping foot on the lands of the North, seeking to usurp the Iron Throne that belongs to you, Daemon Targaryen."

Jon finished reading the paper aloud while everyone present had different reactions. There were two children, the Stark boys in his tent, Jojen and Meera Reed, and unsurprisingly, his four women listening to him speak about the letter he had just received through the Night's Watch after the ravens arrived at Castle Black.

It was a letter from the Boltons, requesting an alliance with him and the free folk—after all, it was a massive army—and after their failed attempt to take the North by aligning Roose Bolton with the Lannisters and Freys, it proved to be a failed endeavor.

"The Boltons are desperate..." Jon concluded.

It was obvious that even after conquering Winterfell from the ironborn and gaining a few allies since the Red Wedding, they were surrounded and losing those same allies. After all, the news that Lord Stark was once again in the North, heading to White Harbor and possibly negotiating with Stannis for an alliance to gain the North’s support in his quest for the Iron Throne, had spread.

And things were getting worse for the Boltons as Robb Stark survived the Red Wedding and might already be in the North. Even with the mistakes Jon heard about Robb during the war, he was the least of the Boltons' problems—his father still had a great deal of support, destroying any real control of the North as long as Lord Stark was alive. And he now seemed well protected with an army.

Lord Bolton was trapped south of Moat Cailin, the ironborn had taken the fortress and were proving to be a problem for Roose.

"These Boltons... they don’t seem trustworthy..." Lucis couldn’t help but comment.

"They are traitors!" the paraplegic boy said louder than he intended.

"Yes..." Jon spoke in a calm tone. "I don’t like your mother and wouldn’t mind slapping her face a few more times, but certainly what they did is unforgivable." he said.

Bran shrank back upon hearing that, still looking at Jon cautiously. He had only seen his anger toward his family, while Bran remembered him from childhood. He didn’t understand that rage Jon had for his family, but still, Jon had taken him in and certainly didn’t mind saying how he was willing to kill their own father.

Bran only agreed to come here because there was no other choice and Jojen insisted heavily, as he sincerely believed this was one of the worst places to be—with this supposed brother.

"Returning to answer you." Jon turned his attention back to Lucis. "They betrayed their own lords in a pact of non-aggression. What remains of these people is their destruction." he made it clear.

"Will you destroy them?" Daenerys asked.

"Yes... we need to set an example. I'm not doing this for House Stark, but we need to bring order to the Seven Kingdoms, and if someone commits something so vile, their house must be exterminated along with all descendants, no matter who they are. This, of course, also applies to House Frey. House Lannister will be destroyed either way." Jon spoke calmly.

"Why do you hate us?"
A child's voice came from the benches where the Starks were sitting, as little Rickon asked, looking at Jon with fear. He had heard a lot about this evil man, especially from his mother, who said he was there to cause harm for no reason. He didn’t understand everything Jon said, but he certainly knew that Jon made a point of saying he wasn’t doing this for House Stark.

Even Bran, Jojen, Meera, Ygritte, Val, Lucis, and Daenerys were watching with interest. Jon had never been very specific in his descriptions of his early years in Winterfell.

"Well... I have no love for your parents, and I never will. After all, it’s hard for a child up to eight namedays old to go through things inside a castle like Winterfell that are hard to believe." Jon commented, looking at the boy.

"You’ve been traveling for weeks, right?" Jon asked, and the boy nodded cautiously.

"Were you cold?" Jon asked.
"Yes..." the boy murmured. They slept in the middle of the forest, with Rickon remembering very well how he trembled constantly while his brother tried to keep him warm with the wolves.

"I used to be cold in Winterfell every cold night, did you know that?" Jon said. "I had a bed and a room, yes. But I had the worst room in the castle and no blankets, since your mother had taken them all from me when I went with Robb to the godswood and he fell into that lake. She punished me for two moons. I trembled every night and I was only five namedays old." Jon paused under varying gazes. And he continued.

"Were you hungry on your way here?" Jon asked.
The boy only nodded.

"I remember that day very well. We were playing with swords, Robb called me to spar while we shouted who we should fight for. Robb declared I was a bastard when I said I would fight for Winterfell, saying I couldn’t do that. I got angry and struck him with my sword. Your mother saw that while he was crying.

The first thing I remember that day was being slapped the moment I turned, falling to the ground..." Jon commented, pausing again.

"She called me a bastard and said I would pay for it. She made the servants give me food with so much salt that I couldn’t eat it. I couldn’t eat anymore... For a year, it was like that... and I was only six namedays old.

I couldn’t take it anymore and started stealing food from the pantry. I got caught and Lord Stark punished me. He knew very well everything that was happening, but he enjoyed watching me suffer... Some servants tried to help me and were punished." Jon said.

"Did you feel lonely?" Jon asked the child again.
The boy didn’t know how to respond, but looked at Bran and his direwolf.

"No, of course not when you have your brother." Jon said. "When I was 7 namedays old, your mother managed to leave me completely isolated. I no longer had lessons with Robb and Maester Luwin. Lord Stark planned to make me illiterate to please your mother. I only worked. Robb distanced himself from me under the influence of both of them. Sansa never liked me after her 3 namedays. Arya was forbidden from having contact with me and saw me more as a servant than a relative—not that I blame her for it. Bran, well, you were too young and always stayed with your mother, and she obviously didn’t even want to hear my name, so she certainly had no enthusiasm to introduce us." Jon said.

"When the Greyjoy Rebellion broke out, Lord Stark left for war, and things got even worse for me with your mother running the castle. Not that Lord Stark was a good father, but I went hungry, I was cold, and I had to work from the moment I woke up until my body couldn’t take it anymore. That lasted a year. Your mother loved watching that 7 or 8 namedays-old boy suffer, and I still wonder how she didn’t take the chance to get rid of me, after all, Lord Stark didn’t seem to care much..." Jon said in an ironic tone.

"Lord Stark returned from the war with the Greyjoy and I started being harassed by him and his brother. I remember getting beaten by the two of them about six times, even being just a child of 8 namedays while Theon was three years older—but you must already know what a coward he is after he betrayed you and took Winterfell." Jon mocked.

"Lord Stark started encouraging me to join the Night’s Watch and spoke to me about it when I was only 8 namedays. He wanted to get rid of me at that point. After all, I was already isolated and without education. It was a tempting offer—to go to an organized order with a noble purpose: to protect the realm of men, according to Lord Stark’s words. But everything changed that same year..." Jon said, finishing his story and turning back to Rickon.

"So when you ask me why I hate the Starks, I ask the same question: Why wouldn’t I hate them? Obviously, I’m talking about your parents. That doesn’t apply to you. After all, I would be like Lord Stark, blaming children for the sins of their parents." he said.

"Jon... I didn’t know..." Daenerys approached him, touching his shoulder with a look full of pity.

"I was a child." Jon said coldly. "Those are just some past events. I'm no longer that child. Fate had even more interesting things in store for me. But I will never forget all that I went through and how your father and mother treated me. I have nothing against you, but when I face your father in battle, it’s possible I won’t hold back my sword and might kill him right then and there." Jon said, while the boys shrank back.

He knew he was speaking of things that a child like Rickon wouldn’t understand, but he was speaking to everyone there—the reality he lived in Winterfell. That was something forever marked within him.

"I heard you’re a sorcerer who can do impossible things..." Bran said at that moment. Despite feeling frightened by Jon speaking of killing his father, there was something Jon wanted more than anything, and maybe, just maybe, he could give it to him.

"You want to walk again, don’t you?" Jon asked as Bran, seated on the bench unable to move his legs, nodded quickly.

"I can try to see your problem, but surgery will be necessary, and we need to have a place like a castle to do it in one of the rooms. I can try to help you." Jon said. He wasn’t a healer, but he had high-level alchemy and could summon creatures that would help in the boy’s recovery.

"I would like that!" Bran said as Jon nodded.

"We’ll do it when we get to Winterfell. In any case, these are my reasons against your parents, and I intend to act when the time comes. You may stay here and receive my protection. I have no intention of using you politically. If Robb is not alive, Brandon Stark, you will be the Lord of Winterfell." Jon said as Bran nodded, a bit surprised.

"Anyway, a tent has just been set up for you. I’ll ask Hodor to take you." Jon said, ending the conversation with the Reeds and Starks, although the former had simply remained silent.

Hodor picked up Bran, and Rickon followed him with his direwolves, while Jojen wanted to speak with Jon—but would leave that for later.

There was another letter from Jeor Mormont, thanking him for what he did on Bear Island, after all, that was his home. He was happy that Lyanna had help from the Dragonborn with a crushing victory, while many hostages and potential slaves were rescued.

Jon opened a map, now alone with his women. It was a map of the North, and he was thinking of taking action.

It was time for the Boltons to witness the power of a dragon.