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Jon silently mused on the irony of it having been Catelyn Tully (not Stark, never Stark) of all people the one to put him in his path as he continued to measure the amount of powder that went in the little fabric pouch so that it would still have a good amount while not weighting more than a medium-sized fruit at max.
Oh, the trout had no idea of what he was planning, would be horrified if she knew, everyone would. But he knew what must be done to ensure that when the kingdom falls into chaos again it won’t draw his family in it.
It did not start with some big event, wasn’t something that was planned or any great manipulation. No, instead, it started with a simple conversation. Catelyn had taken exception to some new game he and Robb were playing and started her usual monologue about how he was sinful and fated to try usurping Winterfell... pretty much the only thing special about this particular occasion was that, having started to learn with Maester Luwin to never believe in something without proof he asked her why she was so sure. Thus, for the first time he heard about the Blacfyre rebellion.
Oh, he didn’t take her word for it, if you were to believe everything that spills out of her mouth you would think the word is a hellhole of criminals barely kept at bay by the always just and right lords and knights of the realm (but the knights weren’t always good, not for Aegon, not for Rhaenys). No, he asked his usual source of responses and Maester Luwin was more than happy in his interest in history to lend him a book about the (many) Blackfyre rebellions.
Therefore, he learned about the Great Bastards, he learned about the pretender Daemon and for a moment despaired, for maybe Catelyn was right for once, maybe it was his fate.
Then he read about him, one of the Great Bastards who stuck to his siblings, even if it meant sacrificing his own body and honor. So, he learned about Lord Bloodraven himself, the hand of king Daeron and once master of wispers, Bryden Rivers.
Moreover, from learning about the man he grew to respect him, and eventually to trying to emulate him...
Oh, he was no good at first, no matter how much he admires Bloodraven, you don´t learn how to be someone by simply reading a little about their lives... but it was a start (and years later thousands would despair for it).
And so, he started studying Bryden´s victories and his few defeats, his strategies and how others tried to circumvent them, his life, the rumors about him, his skills... he started learning how Bloodraven acted and then started applying what he learned to his own life... he would never be the next Bryden Rivers, Now he knows. But in his attempts he managed to change himself, and maybe it would be enough.
Hearing the rumors about Bloodraven´s use of sorcery he interrogated Old Nan, asking her to tell him again and again all stories that she knew about the subject, about warging and greenseers, about the power in runes and sacrifice, about the dragonlords of Vallyria and how their language was used in powerful spells... he heard everything and took copious notes. Then he went to Maester Luwin for the knowledge the Citadel accumulated over the centuries, to learn the runes and old language of the First Men, to learn Vallyrian and about dragons (all along also learning about the Targaryans, learning about the rebellion in which he was conceived and wondering. Lord Stark said he was his blood, but never called him his son, Lyanna was supposed found just before he was conceived, so maybe...). Then, when he thought himself ready, he started to practice with varying degrees of failure.
Thing is, you can´t translate the sensation of using magic in writting or talking. There simple aren't words or languages enough to transmit it correctly, not even Valyrian can, to do so would be like asking someone to describe a color that dosen't exist, only those that felt magic can understand the sensation and this ones don't need to be told, once one have felt it they never forget, they simple get it. Without knoing the sensation all the rituals, runes, spells, all the words of power are just that, words. But he kept trying and eventually saw progress. Oh, it wasn't anything ground-breaking or especially destructible, only a bit of warging on one of Winterfell’s ravens, but to this day it was one of the best sensations he ever felt. To fly, free of all mundane concerns, leaving all his problems behind... he was hooked for life after this.
That is no to say he stopped there, Bryden Rivers was said to have “a thousand eyes and one”, with his new understanding of warging Jon had the realisation of what this may mean, a thosand animals on all parts of the kingdom, to see through all ao them at once... it is something he can barely conceive. So he set to try for the same amount if not more. Oh, it wasn´t easy and even though he already managed to get a respectable number of animals between birds, wolves, and even some bears he barely managed to control one while keeping himself conscious, he also couldn't control even an animal he is close to without being on a certain range from them, something Bryden obviously could and he couldn't mantain control of any animal while sleeping, but he was getting better at it.
“And for now; it is enough.” tough Jon while carefully knotting the top of the pouch in a way as to not let any of the powder escape or worse, touch his skin.
Oh, but magic wasn't the only thing he learned. He briefly studied a little about poison, but in the end gave it up as innefective. While poison can kill someone, it is just too inefficient to do it well. Poisons come in one of two ways, there are the ones which act almost immediately, thus making it obvious and then there are the ones that killed after a certain time, but this ones require frequent applications, and so would need someone to fed the victim constantly that poison,
Therefore, he turned his attention to other forms of murder, namely, diseases. Oh, it is definitely harder to pull off than poison and have the risk of being contagious, but the benefits more than make up for it. It needs only a single application but won’t work immediately, therefore dropping the chances of discovering the culprit. Naturally there are many different ways someone can contact a disease, so in most cases there won't even be a talk about foul play beside the most fanatic paranoid, and these are the ones who almost none bother listening, to say nothing of how unlikely they are to be taken serious in the eventuality of someone actually taking one of them seriously.
Therefore it was really a stroke of luck that he found that Stoneman while running around inside a wolf. He still feels kind of guilt for having killed him, it was obvious that the stoneman had made sure to isolate himself before the sickness toke his mind, so there wasn't really a reason to kill him besides greed. But he managed to rationalize it by saying to himself that as the stoneman had already lost his ability to think rationally he was basically an animal, so killing him was no worse than killing a cow for meat.
Jon contemplated for a moment the idea of sneaking some of the contaminated meat to Catelyn’s plate at dinner before dismissing the thought with a snort. While it would definitely be amusing for him it would leave his siblings heartbroken, and he refuses to be the reason for their sadness.
“Seems like I’ll have to keep hearing her ‘subtly’ encouragement to join the Night’s Watch.” Tough Jon with a grimace. Truth be told, Catelyn wouldn’t know the meaning of subtly even if all maesters in the Citadel banded together to explain it to her, she had absolutely no sense of tact.
In the recess of his mind, Jon muses to himself that he might have considered joining, except…
Robb and he training while keeping a good-natured banter…
Arya pleading with him to hide her from Septa Mordane after playing a prank in the old bat…
Bran looking at him as if he were the most amazing being in the world after he managed to teach him how to use a bow correctly…
Rickon valiantly trying to keep awake to hear the rest of the story he was telling…
Ned Stark comforting him after seeing an execution for the first time…
Jon shook his head to dispel the images. No, he wouldn’t be going to the Night’s Watch.
“At least not voluntarily” he grimaced slightly. Because he knows Robb, and, while he wouldn’t look too closely, he isn't an idiot. Eventually he would realise what his brother was doing, what he had already done. And when this happens the other lords would force his hand regardless of his choice. But even knowing this he can't regret what he did.
After all, he grew-up learning about the Blackfyre rebellions, and while Robert Baratheon wasn’t another mad king he was definitely Aegon the Unworthy come again, a whoremonger and drunkard, too caught up in his dream of a woman who by all accounts hated him (at least Jon dearly hoped she hated, he hoped she had eloped as some servants sometimes mused outside Lord Stark's hearing, for if she didn't... if she didn't than it would mean Prince Rhaegar raped his-) to even consider ruling, this much his birda managed to gather from conversations around the keep which, along with his own observations and what the servants said... well, it didn't paint a good picture. No, one way or another a new war is about to start.
“And he tried to get the Starks right in the middle of it” tough Jon furiously while, with care to not let it touch his skin, he threw both the gloves he was wearing and the piece of cloth that he was using to protect his mouth in the fire.
Oh no, Robert Baretheon made his bed years ago, he made it when he claimed a crown he had no right to and then refused to rule, he made it when he ordered the death of Aegon and Rhaenys, his-
“Well, no matter now” tough Jon darkly “No stark is going South this time”. For Ned Stark wouldn’t be Hand of the King. King Robert may have chose him… but King Joffrey on the other hand…
“The king is dead” singed Jon in his mind “Long live the king” . Then looked with a smile as the raven he was controlling took the little pouch and flew “at least for the next few turns of the moon” he completed maliciously.
For if Robert was the Unworthy then Joffrey was by all acconts, even of his own siblings and his servants, again heard through many small animals around the keep, the next Maegor the cruel, “oh well, not like he is going to be able to cause much trouble in the little time he has".
It was actually rather easy to kill Robert. The drunkard was completely obsessed with hunting, so of course he decided to go hunt while in Winterfell. Stationing a small pack of wolves at the wolfswood in a place there were none was easy, And then it was only a matter of warging in a deer to lure the party to their new territory. And finally, while Robert was busy crowing drunkenly over his kill it, he only needed to change to the mind of the pack’s alfa and making him lead the attack. He managed the whole process while discussing with Bran how good it would be squiring for Sir Barristan Selming, thus garanting to avoid any suspicions, a little redundant since almost no one still believed in skin-changers, he knew, but still decided to veer for caution.
Oh, the king managed to live long enough to get back to Winterfell and have his last words with his family and best friend. But he died soon after (and if Jon breathed a little easier knowing that now the one who would cause the most problems if his secret ever come to light was dead… well, no one needed to know about that). The royal party left soon after, going back to King’s Landing to ready Joffreys coronation. They allowed the Starks time to mourn, but ordered Lord Stark to be ready to go south swear loyalty to Joffrey with the other lords in about two moons and to bring Sansa with him so she and Joffrey could marry.
As he watched the raven fly away with the pouch, and them as he made his way back to Winterfell while watching trough the raven’s eyes as it flew to the camp of the royal party made after leaving Winterfell that very morning he allowed himself to feel guilt for Tommen and Myrcella. “They seemed like good kids,” he tough grimacing “but if any of them wears the crown it would be Tywin the actual king” and this is something he isn’t willing to allow, not after the sacking of King’s Landing, not after Aegon and Rhaenys…
And so he went to Winterfell at the same time his raven went to the royal tent and used his claws to rip the pouch right over the Queen and her children, dropping on them the dried greyscale meat he spent the day grounding into dust.
“A terrible fate” he tough grimly “but a necessary one” . And maybe, if he tells himself it enough times, he will start believing it; Believe it wasn’t fear and resentment that made him see paralels between Robert and Aegon IV that weren't there, that made him kill two innocent children and become a kingslayer… And maybe he will be able to look at Ned Stark’s grief-stricken face as he mourns his best friend and not feel so dirt anymore.
No, he wouldn’t be going to the Night’s Watch willingly. Not while he has to protect his siblings, not while Robb still needs a hand to do the dirty work for him (even if he doesn’t know it, principally since he doesn’t know it) not while he can help his family, but eventually someone is bound to find out and them… well, he probably won’t have much of a choice in the matter.