Game of Thrones: The Ruler

A long, heavy silence followed Melisandre's murmur. Her face was a tapestry of emotions. It contained all the expressions. Pure shock, disbelief, and something deeper. Realisation. Enlightenment. As if some great, long-unanswered mystery had finally fallen into place.

Though no one spoke, the quiet between the three of them felt intense, almost tangible as if suffocating them.

"You are… the son of my father and Lyanna Stark?" Rhaenys finally asked after she recovered from her shock. Her voice was barely above a whisper and she was stammering.

"Yes," Jon replied with a small smile.

A shadow of guilt crossed Rhaenys' features, and within that guilt flickered the faintest trace of fear.

Her father had kidnapped Lyanna, or so the world believed and Jon was the product of that act.

If Jon harboured hatred for Rhaegar, would that hatred extend to her as well?

Jon read her expression easily. The guilt on her face was too plain to miss.

"I cannot say for certain whether I am the bastard or the trueborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna," Jon said, his tone gentle. "But I do know this, your father and my father did not kidnap my mother. They left together. Willingly."

"Not kidnapped," Rhaenys whispered in pure shock. It was as if the words themselves were foreign on her tongue.

"Yes," Jon said, meeting her gaze. "While I cannot be certain, I strongly suspect that father divorced your mother, Elia Martell, before he left with my mother, Lyanna Stark. After that, they most probably have had a secret wedding."

It should have brought Rhaenys some relief, not the part about the divorce, but the knowledge that it had not been a kidnapping.

And it did, in part. Yet the weight of Jon's words carried implications that left her reeling. Melisandre, too, looked stunned, her eyes narrowing as the pieces clicked together.

"The Rebellion?" Rhaenys breathed. "The rebellion."

"Built on a lie," Jon finished for her.

"Why?" It was the only word she could manage, but Jon understood all the tangled emotions behind it. The confusion, the betrayal, the aching need for answers. They were feelings he knew all too well.

He shook his head slowly. "I do not know. Why they chose to run? Why they told no one? Why they let the lie fester, even when Father marched to war against Robert? I have no answers. No explanations."

"It is like some great mystery looming over my life. Answers which seems almost impossible to find "

His voice hardened. "But I will find them. Sooner or later, I will solve the mystery."

"Did Lord Ned Stark tell you all this?" Rhaenys asked.

Jon shook his head. "No. He never revealed anything to me. He knew the truth, but declaring me his bastard was his way to only save me, a dragonspawn, from the wrath of the stag. Robert Baratheon."

"He promised my mother he would keep me safe, and he kept that promise," he added.

"If not your uncle, then how did you learn all of this?" she pressed.

"My mother left letters," Jon lied without hesitation. He could not tell her that he knew it from his previous life and did not trust her enough to reveal that he had witnessed few things as a Greenseer.

"I see," she responded.

Rhaenys studied him for a long moment, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. Something in his tone told her he was not giving her the whole truth. But they had been strangers mere moments ago, and she could not expect him to bare every secret at once. She knew even she would not reveal all her secrets.

"A Song of Ice and Fire," Melisandre murmured, breaking the silence. She had repeated the phrase earlier, but now there was a strange reverence in her voice.

"I always believed it was a riddle. Perhaps something ancient and something hidden in the flames. Some sort of mystery."

"I had never imagined it to be literal. A union of two of the oldest surviving bloodlines in the whole of Planetos. Targaryen and Stark. Fire and ice."

Her red eyes locked on Jon as she added, "The prince who was promised."

She kneeled once again, this time lowering herself fully onto both knees. "This servant greets Azor Ahai."

Jon was not sure how to respond. Although, she had called him Azor Ahai earlier, this time she sounded far more convincing than the previous time. This time there was not a shred of doubt in her voice.

Although Jon was certain that Melisandre could be a valuable ally, he was not sure about the Red God. In a lot fanfictions, he had been portrayed as a nosey God and even as a villain and Jon did not want to get entangled with the gods. Not this early when he already had a lot to worry about.

"I am not sure I understand what you are trying to imply," he said at last, steering the topoc away.

"You will," Melisandre replied simply as she rose to her feet. "When the time comes, yu will."

Jon gave a slight nod and chose not to press the matter further.

With that settled, he asked Slyvia to arrange suitable quarters for both women in the accessible, outer wing of the mansion.

There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask Rhaenys. How she had survived, what had happened to her brother, where she had been all these years, whether she had sought revenge, and what exactly she had seen in her dreams.

But he decided not to force those answers now. She had already endured enough shocks for one day. Better to let her rest before digging into old wounds.

As for Melisandre, his feelings were less certain. He was willing to let her stay, but he intended to watch her closely and judge her actions in time.

Rhaenys, for her part, also decided to proceed slowly. Questions swirled in her mind too. Was he connected to the red comet that had blazed across the sky? Had he any link to dragons? Had he perhaps even hatched one? But for now, she would wait. He had given her no reason to suspect malice, and that was enough for her, at least for the moment.

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