Dragon Hidden in the Wolf's Shadow - Chapter - 2 (Patreon)

Catelyn Stark sat by the hearth, her fingers knitting the woolen shawl with mechanical precision. The fire crackled softly, but its warmth did little to chase away the chill that had settled in her bones. The large, stone-walled room of Winterfell felt colder than usual, and she could not shake the feeling that it was a prelude to the turmoil that was brewing within her heart.

Her mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts. Jon Snow had arrived, a living reminder of her husband's past and a new presence in the household that unsettled her deeply. His arrival had turned her orderly world upside down, and she could not escape the gnawing resentment that had taken root.

Jon Snow, the illegitimate child of Eddard Stark, had been brought to Winterfell as if he were a legitimate heir, and Catelyn was forced to accommodate him alongside her own child. It was not just the presence of Jon that disturbed her; it was everything he represented. His dark hair and grey eyes were a stark contrast to her son Robb's Tully features—blue eyes and red hair. It was as if Jon's very appearance was a reminder of the Stark lineage that had been thrust into her life with no regard for her feelings.

As an avid follower of the Faith of the Seven, Catelyn's beliefs were deeply ingrained. The Faith had always condemned bastards, and she had been raised with the notion that such children were tainted, not to be trusted or accepted. The doctrine had shaped her understanding of morality and propriety, and Jon's presence challenged everything she had been taught to believe.

Her thoughts often returned to a recent conversation with Eddard. They had been arguing fiercely, a rare but telling event. Catelyn had felt the walls of their marriage closing in, and she had let her frustrations spill over.

"You always think you know what's best,"

she had said, her voice rising in anger.

"You always have to justify your choices."

Eddard had responded with a weariness that betrayed the weight of his own burdens.

"I was always the second best, Catelyn. I played with Brandon's old toys, wielded his old weapons. And when he died, I became the head of the Stark family by default. Brandon was supposed to marry you. But when he died, it fell to me to marry you."

She had listened in stunned silence as he continued, his eyes haunted by the past.

"So, I wanted something that was mine for once. And that's how I met Jon's mother. She was smallfolk, no whore, just a lowborn girl. She was good, but she died in childbirth. I couldn't abandon my blood. That's why Jon is here. You don't need to worry about political intrigue. Jon's mother is dead, and he's not a threat to Robb's rights."

Eddard's words had done little to comfort her. While they eased her mind somewhat about the potential for political machinations, they did nothing to quell her personal fears. The fear that Jon's very presence might undermine her son Robb, the fear that her family's name and honor were being tainted by this illegitimate child.

Her fear grew with every passing day. Jon, though a child, was a constant reminder of the precarious balance that existed in their household. The servants whispered in hushed tones, the septa—who had her own biases—was quick to voice her concerns about Jon's influence on the Stark children. Catelyn had heard the murmurs about Jon being a potential threat to Robb, a shadow that loomed over her son's future.

The servants in the Riverlands had always been suspicious of bastards, and their attitudes had not changed since their arrival in Winterfell. They spoke of Jon with a mixture of disdain and apprehension, as if his mere presence was a harbinger of trouble. It was unsettling to Catelyn, knowing that even those beneath her station shared her fears and suspicions.

Every time she looked at Jon, she was reminded of the complexities of her marriage to Eddard. Her husband was a man of honor, but his actions were often at odds with her own beliefs and values. Catelyn struggled to reconcile the man she loved with the decisions he had made. Jon's arrival had forced her to confront the uncomfortable reality that her husband's choices had a far-reaching impact on her life and her family's future.

She would often find herself in the godswood, seeking solace among the ancient trees and the serene surroundings. But even there, in the quiet solitude, her mind was troubled by thoughts of Jon and the role he was destined to play in their lives. Her faith had always been a source of strength, but it now seemed to be a barrier between her and the acceptance of Jon.

Catelyn's days were filled with strained interactions and superficial pleasantries. She had to maintain a semblance of civility, to be polite to Jon and the others around her. But beneath the surface, her resentment simmered. She was determined to find a way to protect her family and ensure that Robb's position remained secure. The thought of Jon becoming a threat to Robb's future was unacceptable to her, and she vowed to do whatever was necessary to prevent it.

As the days turned into weeks, Catelyn's resolve hardened. She began to subtly influence the dynamics of the household, ensuring that Jon was kept at a distance from Robb whenever possible. She encouraged the servants and the septa to be wary of Jon, to be cautious of his potential influence. Her efforts were quiet but persistent, a constant undercurrent of her interactions with those around her.

Despite her best efforts to remain composed, Catelyn's internal struggle was wearing her thin. The weight of her beliefs, her fears, and her obligations were taking a toll on her. She felt trapped between her duty to her family and her personal convictions, and the resulting tension was a strain on her marriage and her peace of mind.

In the end, Catelyn's reaction to Jon Snow's presence was a reflection of her own fears and limitations. She was a woman caught in a web of duty and desire, struggling to navigate the complexities of her life and her beliefs. Jon's arrival had tested her resolve and forced her to confront the uncomfortable truths of her own existence. And while she may have tried to shield her family from the potential threat that Jon represented, the true challenge lay in her own heart—a heart that was divided between love and fear, between duty and personal conviction.

The halls of Winterfell, once a sanctuary of order and tradition, were now echoing with the disruptive presence of Jon Snow. From his earliest days, Jon had been a force to be reckoned with, and Catelyn Stark found herself increasingly anxious as she watched him grow. Her unease was not just about Jon's behavior but also about the impact he was having on her own children, especially Robb.

As a newborn, Jon had caused quite a stir. His cries were loud and persistent, piercing the quiet of Winterfell and drawing the attention of many. The servants often grumbled about the difficulty of attending to him, as it seemed that Jon's needs were insatiable. Unlike Robb, who had been a relatively calm baby, Jon's early days were marked by relentless wailing and a constant demand for attention.

Catelyn had avoided holding Jon herself, letting the servants take on the burden of caring for him. She distanced herself from him, both physically and emotionally, which only served to heighten her resentment. She had hoped that by keeping a distance, she could maintain some semblance of normalcy for her own children, but Jon's presence seemed to pervade every corner of Winterfell.

By the time Jon began to crawl, his developmental milestones were already outpacing Robb's. Robb had been a slow crawler, his movements deliberate and cautious, but Jon was different. He started crawling at an earlier age and quickly transitioned to running around the castle with an energy that seemed boundless. The contrast between the two boys was stark: where Robb had been tentative and measured, Jon was exuberant and unstoppable.

The contrast in their temperaments was equally striking. Jon's strength and cheerfulness were notable, but they also came with a dangerous edge. On more than one occasion, Jon had exhibited troubling behavior. He had thrown stones at a couple of servants after they had used unkind words in his presence. To Jon, these were not merely words but attacks that warranted a response. The servants were wary of him, and Catelyn found their fear and discomfort unsettling.

Jon's fascination with fire was another source of concern. The hearths of Winterfell, always a comforting presence in the cold northern climate, had become a source of anxiety for Catelyn. Jon would often be found staring into the flames, his gaze intense and unblinking. The fascination bordered on obsession, and Catelyn worried about the dangers of such an attraction. The potential for harm was ever-present, and the fear that Jon might inadvertently set something ablaze was a constant source of stress.

Jon's growth and development were marked by an exceptional and unsettling pace. By the age of four, Jon was already displaying skills and abilities that far surpassed those of his peers. He had begun martial arts training, and his progress was nothing short of extraordinary. He was five steps ahead of Robb. Jon's prowess was evident in every aspect of his training, from archery to swordsmanship.

During a training session with the bow and arrow, Jon met a seasoned archer named Ser Artos. Artos was known for his strict demeanor and high expectations of the recruits, but he found himself intrigued by Jon's raw talent. The moment Jon picked up the bow, Artos observed with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

"Let's see what you've got, lad,"

Artos grunted, handing Jon a bow that seemed almost too large for him.

"This is not a toy; it's a weapon. Can you handle it?"

Jon's small fingers grasped the bow with a confidence that belied his age. He drew the string back with surprising ease, pulling the bow into a perfect arc. Artos watched in astonishment as Jon released the arrow, sending it sailing toward the target with remarkable accuracy.

"Well, I'll be,"

Artos muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"You've got quite the talent, boy. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

Jon's face lit up with a proud smile.

"I just know how to do it, I guess. No one showed me."

Artos raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed.

"You've never had formal training?"

Jon shook his head.

"No, but I watch the men practice. I want to be good like them."

Artos nodded, a newfound respect in his eyes.

"You've got the makings of a great archer. I'll be sure to give you some pointers. And,"

he said, pulling out a small bow and a set of arrows from his own quiver,

"you can keep these. Practice with them, and we'll see how far you can go."

Jon's eyes widened with excitement as he accepted the gift.

"Thank you, Ser Artos! I'll practice every day!"

As Jon continued to train with Ser Artos, his progress was nothing short of astounding. His skills in archery were soon matched by his abilities with a sword. During his sword training, Jon's strength and coordination allowed him to handle a practice sword with surprising effectiveness. His movements were sure-footed and powerful, and he quickly outpaced even older archers.

Robb, despite being older, found himself trailing behind Jon. The gap between them was becoming more pronounced, and Catelyn's anxiety grew with each passing day. She had hoped that Jon's presence would be fleeting, but his remarkable abilities only seemed to reinforce his place in Winterfell.

The dynamic between Jon and Robb was a constant source of tension for Catelyn. Despite her efforts to maintain some semblance of normalcy, her children's interactions were increasingly strained. Robb's admiration for Jon was evident in the way he followed him around, imitating his actions and seeking his approval. Catelyn's attempts to discourage Robb from idolizing Jon were in vain; her son's adoration only grew stronger.

In the quiet moments of reflection, Catelyn found herself grappling with her beliefs and values. The Faith of the Seven, which had been a cornerstone of her upbringing, condemned bastards. Jon's very existence was a challenge to everything she had been taught to uphold. Her faith, which had always been a source of comfort and guidance, was now a source of conflict and distress.

During a conversation with the septa, Catelyn voiced her concerns.

"The boy is a constant reminder of what should not be. I fear for the future of my children with him around."

The septa, a solemn woman with years of service, nodded sympathetically.

"It is difficult to see such a disruption to the order. The Faith does not look kindly upon bastards, and their presence can indeed be unsettling."

Catelyn sighed.

"I pray every day for a solution. I wish for Jon to be removed from Winterfell, but nothing seems to change. His influence only grows stronger."

The septa offered a comforting hand. "Sometimes, we must find strength within ourselves to endure the challenges. Your concerns are valid, and your prayers are heard."

Catelyn's struggles were not just with Jon but with her own beliefs and values. She had hoped that by keeping Jon at a distance, she could preserve her children's status and achievements. However, Jon's growing strength and influence were undeniable, and her efforts to navigate this turbulent landscape seemed increasingly futile.

The servants, too, had their own opinions about Jon's presence. In hushed conversations, they expressed their concerns about the potential dangers Jon posed. Their whispers were a constant reminder of the threat he represented, further heightening Catelyn's anxiety.

"Have you seen how the boy handles that bow?"

one servant remarked.

"It's unnatural for someone so young."

Another nodded in agreement.

"And his fascination with fire! It's like he's drawn to it. I worry what might happen if he's not kept in check."

Catelyn listened to these conversations with a mixture of frustration and helplessness. She was constantly reminded of the challenges she faced and the growing influence of Jon Snow. Her attempts to distance herself from him seemed increasingly ineffective, and she found herself praying for a resolution that seemed ever elusive.

As the days passed, Jon's presence continued to cast a long shadow over Winterfell. His exceptional abilities and charismatic personality were a constant reminder of the challenges Catelyn faced. Her efforts to preserve the future of her own children seemed increasingly futile, and she faced each day with a mixture of hope and dread, praying for a resolution to the turmoil that had become a part of her existence.

In the quiet moments of reflection, Catelyn grappled with the harsh realities of her situation. Jon's growth and abilities were a constant reminder of the complexities of her life. She had hoped for a resolution, but as Jon continued to excel, her anxieties grew. Winterfell was no longer just a home; it had become a battleground of emotions and conflicts, with Jon Snow at the center of it all.