Becoming Porcelain

Chapter 62- He is my Son

It was silent as we departed from the dark ruins of the gloomy tower, only the sounds of horses hooves and the carriage rattling behind could be heard.

Howland rode beside me, clutching hold of his reins to take his mind off things, he was thinking of the troubles just like I was.

The child rode in a carriage, just a few meters behind me with his wet nurse, Wylla, a girl from a local village.

We were riding for Starfall, the ancestral seat of House Dayne. I was to return their sword, the one Ser Arthur Dayne died holding. The sword was magnificent, it wasn't to go to waste and rot in the far North, it deserved to be with its blood.
I had made sure to give Arthur Dayne a proper burial, I had buried him with the stones that fell from the Tower when I burnt it to the ground, along with his men. They had died protecting their Tower, so I thought it right they should be buried with it.

I hadn't left Lyanna with them though, she needed to be in the North where she belonged, and where her child would be. So, I had one of my men take her back and bury her in the crypts, next to Father and Brandon. She would've liked that.

I had to be strong through all this, I had to keep my promise. I had stopped the grieving the moment I saw Lyanna's carriage riding away for Winterfell, and instead I didn't talk of it all, I wiped it from my memory, never to be spoke of again.

We departed with the maid the moment the tower fell, she was crying, speaking in a foreign language. She whispered a few words to the child and then off she went, sobbing to herself.

The thought of the maid made me look at Howland, as he stared on at the road ahead. He was young, younger than me, and he had already seen too many things. I could trust him, I knew that, but would he be able to trust himself with the secret.

"Are you alright?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He let out a shakey sigh and then gave me a small smile.

"You're asking me that?" He replied and straightened up his back. He was tired, we all were.

I didn't reply to his little statement, because there was nothing to be said. I had told myself to push it all behind me, it was the past, and it would now stay in the past. But I knew Howland couldn't do that.

"What's your plan then, for the child?" He said.

I knew he would ask me that, it was a question he had been wanting to ask since we left the tower. But, was it a question that needed an answer right now?

I sighed in annoyance at the question and turned to give him a pained look. There was only one answer, it was something I didn't want, but either way, it had to be done.

"He'll live with me, at Winterfell, and he'll be my son. There will be no questions asked, he is my son and that is all that will be said."

Howland nodded his head at my words and then turned to look at the carriage behind.

"Your bastard son?"

"Yes." I said bluntly.

"What will be his name?"

I froze for a second, remembering only then that a child needed a name. I hadn't thought about it, I didn't even know the names that Lyanna liked for a child. I jogged my brain for a second, thinking of the right name. And then I remembered something, I remembered a certain letter that I had read a while ago, but a letter that had stuck in my head ever since. And in an instant, I knew what the child's name would be.

"Jon," I spoke. "His names Jon, Jon Snow."