Don't Cry
Beth returned later, along with Jeyne and two bowls of stew. It wasn’t much to share between the six of them, but it gave them a little in their bellies. Lyarra laughed and hugged her friends, and it was nice to see her happy for the first time since Jon had known her.
Jon waited until the girls had all fallen asleep before slipping out of the room and making his way back through the halls of the castle to the mirror. In the dark, its surface shimmered strangely, but when he pressed his hand to it, it remained solid.
“Take me home,” he whispered, but there was nothing to answer him. Jon didn’t dare beat harder against the mirror, and so he withdrew his hand and pressed his head to the surface instead. He wanted to pretend he could see Joni on the other side, a feminine version of his own face framed by wild dark hair like Arya’s. “Take me home, please.”
The mirror remained solid and silent.
His home, if it was indeed locked on the other side of the mirror, remained out of reach.
In the morning, they remained gathered in Beth and Jeyne’s room to discuss their options.
“I tried again at the mirror. I couldn’t get through,” Jon said.
Lyarra looked horrified. “You went again? By yourself?”
“I had to try.”
“But what do we do now?” asked Minisa.
Lyarra looked defeated, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know.”
Jon drummed his fingers against his leg. He hated the thought of leaving Winterfell, but there might be no choice. Unless…
The idea was a terrible one, but he turned it over and over, trying to put the pieces together as the girls continued to talk.
“What about Uncle Benjen?” asked Minisa.
They had discussed Uncle Benjen before. He was the only male Stark left now, but his life even here was sworn to the Night’s Watch. He couldn’t push a claim for Winterfell.
“I don’t know,” replied Lyarra. She just looked tired and confused, her blue eyes distant.
“But won’t he help us?” asked Minisa.
“He might…” mused Lyarra.
He might. Winterfell had been his home once as much as it was Lyarra’s and her sisters; as much as it was Jon’s. He wouldn’t want the Baratheons here either. The problem was his oaths.
“Does the King still have his men searching for us?” asked Jon.
Jeyne gave him a startled look. According to Lyarra, she had been good friends with Joni, and Jon’s presence as a boy had come as a surprise.
Beth nodded. “They’ve given up here in the castle, I think. But they keep searching the Wintertown.” Her eyes went to Jon. “He most wants to find Joni, I think. He calls her dragonspawn and says Lord Stark was a traitor to raise her here.”
“Dragonspawn?” asked Jon. Joni had managed a miracle and hatched dragons, but she herself wasn’t dragonspawn. If she was simply this Winterfell’s version of Jon, then she was simply Eddard Stark’s bastard. He’d heard whispers from the staff that his mother had been Ashara Dayne, but even that didn’t make him, or Joni, dragonspawn.
Beth shook her head. “I don’t know why. I stay away from him when I can. I only hear of him complaining about it through the walls.”
It was wise of her to stay away, and Jon couldn’t fault her for that. The Cassels were still a highborn family, and one that had served the Starks faithfully for many years. It was best for Beth that the King didn’t know who she was. Still, he’d have liked to know more about the King’s beliefs of Joni. Did he think she was some hidden, mysterious Targaryen because of her miracle in hatching dragons?
“It’s because of Prince Rhaegar,” whispered Jeyne.
Jon turned to her. “What?”
“He doesn’t think Joni was Lord Stark’s child truthfully. He believes she was Prince Rhaegar’s, and Lord Stark hid her away.”
Lyarra laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Look at Joni; look at Jon. They look more Stark than I!”
“The King believes Joni is Lady Lyanna’s daughter.”
Ice poured down Jon’s spine. He wanted to reject the thought, but something in it rang true. Father had brought him home from the south, and never told him of his mother.
“That’s…” Lyarra shook her head. “Joni is Father’s daughter, and our sister, and always has been. The King is insane.”
Jon wanted to agree, but there was part of him that wondered still. Joni had hatched dragons; something Targaryens did. Father always told him not to ask of his mother. He only wasn’t sure whether his Aunt Lyanna would have been missing long enough to have a babe. She might have been. The Rebellion had lasted over a year; if Jon had been newborn when Father found him…
“Joni is safe. No one here is looking for Jon,” Lyarra said firmly.
Jeyne nodded along, but Jon still saw the way she looked at him.
“How much interest has there been in the staff?” Jon asked.
Jeyne shrugged. “Very little. None have questioned us, so long as we keep our heads down.”
“Do you think they'd notice us?” asked Jon.
Jeyne looked him up and down. “I don't know. In the open… there'd be other highborn and staff…”
Which would increase the risk of someone slipping up and revealing them. Or even worse, betraying them entirely.
“Why?” asked Lyarra.
“We could stay hidden here at Winterfell until the Baratheons leave.”
“Won't they leave someone here in control?”
Jon shrugged. “We could kill them.”
Lyarra gaped at him. “We…”
“King Robert can't leave a full garrison here to hold the castle, and the lords of the North would support your claim.”
They could claim he was a cousin… Jon balked at the thought. He'd not grown up with these Starks, but he was Eddard Stark’s son while Lyarra was Eddard Stark’s daughter.
“We could simply wait until the Baratheons are back in King’s Landing, reclaim Winterfell, and have the Crannogmen close off the Neck. The North has won a hundred wars that way.”
Lyarra sighed heavily. “I shall have to think about it.”
Beth and Jeyne shared their food again that evening, and the six of them settled for the night.
Jon was woken again by the orange glow of fire through the tiny window this maid’s room was allowed. He balanced on the old stool and peered out.
His heart fell.
“Joni?” whispered Jeyne sleepily.
“It's Jon,” he replied.
“What are you doing?”
“Come and see.”
Jeyne climbed up alongside him and gasped at the sight beneath them, pressing her hands over her mouth.
“What's happening?” asked Lyarra, evidently disturbed by all the noise.
“Oh, Lya, it’s so terrible! They're burning the godswood!”
“What?”
Jon stepped down so Lyarra could take his place, but the image of the godswood alight was burned into his eyes.
The three of them stayed awake much of the night, taking it in turns to watch the godswood burn. Eventually Beth woke and joined them in their vigil.
“They will not leave here without finding us,” said Lyarra, her voice trembling. “We must go north and seek our uncle.”