Dragon Hidden in the Wolf's Shadow - Chapter - 12 (Patreon)

The cold winds of winter had begun to retreat, making way for a slow but steady thaw. The Greyjoy Rebellion had ended, and the Northern lords and soldiers who had fought bravely alongside Eddard Stark returned home. The journey back to the North was long, but the men were eager to see their families, their lands, and the vast expanse of the North that they had fought so hard to protect. As they neared their homes, however, they began to hear whispers—rumors of a boy whose name had spread far and wide, even beyond the North. The name on everyone's lips was Jon Snow.

Jon Snow had been just a boy of eight when he had killed Ironborn invaders on Bear Island. The story of his bravery had been told and retold by the warriors of Bear Island who had witnessed it firsthand. It wasn't long before Jon's name had become legendary among the Northern soldiers, and soon enough, it spread beyond the North, carried by the tongues of travelers and traders. Even lords and knights who had never set foot on Bear Island knew the tale of the young bastard who had taken down seasoned Ironborn raiders.

But when the lords and soldiers finally returned to their castles, they discovered that Jon Snow's name was not just known for his feats in battle. He had left his mark on the North in another, more unexpected way—through the creation of a drink that had taken the North by storm.

In the great halls of Winterfell, Karhold, White Harbor, and even the Dreadfort, lords and their men gathered to share stories of war and homecoming. Yet, amidst the tales of battle, a new topic of conversation emerged: Northern Honey and a drink called coffee. Both were the creations of Jon Snow, and both had become instant favorites among the Northern nobility.

Northern Honey, as it was called, was a syrup unlike anything the North had ever seen. Sweet, rich, and full of the essence of the honey, it was unlike any other product in Westeros. The lords marveled at its taste and versatility. It was used to sweeten everything from bread to ale, and it quickly became a staple in the kitchens of the North.

Coffee, on the other hand, was a drink that many had never imagined possible. Made from the seeds of wild berries that grew abundantly in the North, it was roasted, ground, and brewed into a dark, bitter liquid that seemed to awaken the very spirit of those who drank it. The combination of the berry seed powder, Northern Honey, and sheep's milk created a drink that was both invigorating and delicious. It quickly replaced ale and mead as the drink of choice in many castles, especially during the long, cold nights of winter.

Word of Jon Snow's inventions spread quickly. Traders who visited the North carried news of coffee and Northern Honey to the other regions of Westeros. Soon, even the lords of the Westerlands and the Reach were seeking out this new drink. It wasn't long before Jon's creations were being shipped across the Narrow Sea to the Free Cities of Essos, where they were met with eager demand.

Despite his growing fame, Jon Snow remained on Bear Island. His banishment from Winterfell still had two years left, and Jon had no intention of breaking his word to Eddard Stark. Instead, he focused on expanding his business empire from the safety of Bear Island. The Mormonts, who ruled the island, were more than happy to support Jon in his endeavors. Jeor Mormont, the Lord of Bear Island, saw the potential in Jon's business and allowed him the freedom to develop it as he saw fit.

Bear Island had become Jon's stronghold. From here, he managed the production of Northern Honey and coffee, ensuring that only his most trusted people knew the secrets of their creation. Jon had always been cautious, and he understood that his success depended on keeping his recipes a closely guarded secret. Only a select few knew which trees produced the best syrup, and only they knew how to properly roast and prepare the wild berry seeds for coffee.

Jon's popularity on Bear Island grew as well. The people respected him not only for his bravery in battle but for the opportunities he provided them. The production of Northern Honey and coffee had created jobs and brought wealth to the island. The people of Bear Island, who had long lived in isolation and relative poverty, now had a valuable commodity that they could trade with the rest of the world.

While Jon's base of operations remained on Bear Island, he frequently traveled to White Harbor. White Harbor was the largest city in the North and the key to trade with the rest of Westeros and Essos. It was here that Jon established connections with merchants, negotiated deals, and ensured that his products reached the widest possible market.

Jon's fluency in the Valyrian language gave him an edge in dealing with Essosi traders. He could speak directly to the merchants from Braavos, Lys, and Pentos, negotiating better prices and cutting out the middlemen. His business acumen impressed even the most seasoned traders, and it wasn't long before Jon was known not just as a skilled warrior, but as a shrewd businessman.

The influx of wealth from his business ventures allowed Jon to invest in more ships, more resources, and more people. His network of trusted agents grew, and soon he had a system in place that allowed him to collect wild berries, produce coffee, and distribute Northern Honey across Westeros and Essos. And all of this was done in secret, known only to Jon and his closest allies.

As the Northern lords settled back into their homes, they began to take notice of the changes that had occurred during their absence. Jon Snow's name was spoken with admiration and respect, not just for his bravery but for his ingenuity. Lords who had once dismissed him as a mere bastard now found themselves indebted to him for the luxuries he had introduced to the North.

Some lords even sought Jon out, requesting meetings with him to discuss potential partnerships. They saw the value in what he had created and wanted a share of the profits. Jon, however, remained cautious. He knew that while some lords might genuinely support him, others might seek to undermine him or steal his secrets. He was careful in his dealings, always ensuring that he maintained control over his business.

As the months passed, Jon Snow's influence continued to grow. His business ventures brought wealth to Bear Island and respect from the Northern lords. But despite his success, Jon remained focused on the future. He knew that his banishment from Winterfell would eventually end, and when it did, he would return to Winterfell not as a bastard but as a man of means and influence.

Jon also knew that his journey was far from over. The North was his home, but he had his sights set on more than just the North. He had proven that he could thrive in a world that often looked down on bastards, and he was determined to carve out a place for himself, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

As the chapter closes, Jon stands on the shores of Bear Island, looking out at the sea. The wind is cold, but Jon feels a warmth inside him—a fire that drives him forward. He knows that he has only just begun, and that the future holds even greater challenges and rewards.

The North was vast, its lands stretching far beyond what most men could imagine. As the Warden of the North, Lord Eddard Stark knew this better than anyone. His duty as protector of the realm often took him on long journeys across the region, ensuring that the North remained strong and united. But this journey was different. Eddard Stark wasn't just visiting a lord's castle or checking on the defenses of the Wall—he was visiting his son. His son who had grown up so much in the year and a half since they had last seen each other.

The ship carrying Eddard and his retinue cut through the frigid waters, making its way toward Bear Island. The island loomed in the distance, a wild and untamed place, much like the people who lived there. Eddard had always admired the Mormonts for their strength and resilience. They were a hardy people, forged by the harsh conditions of their land, and Jon had found a place among them. Eddard wondered how much Jon had changed since they last spoke. The boy who had left Winterfell was no longer a boy, but a young man who had made a name for himself far beyond the walls of Bear Island.

When the ship finally docked, Eddard was greeted by Jeor Mormont, the Lord of Bear Island, and his son, Jorah Mormont. Jeor was as gruff and stern as ever, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he welcomed Eddard. Jorah, who had recently married a woman from the mainland, was more formal, but Eddard could sense the pride the Mormonts felt in Jon's accomplishments. The people of Bear Island had taken Jon in as one of their own, and they respected him not just for his name but for his deeds.

After the formal greetings, Jeor led Eddard into the great hall of Mormont Keep. The hall was filled with the sounds of feasting and laughter, a stark contrast to the silence of the ship's voyage. Eddard couldn't help but smile as he saw Jon sitting at the high table, surrounded by warriors and traders. The boy had grown taller, broader in the shoulders, and his face had taken on a harder edge. Yet, there was still that familiar look in his eyes—the look of a Stark.

Jon rose to greet his father, and Eddard saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes. It had been too long since they had last spoken, and both father and son felt the weight of the time that had passed. Eddard embraced Jon, a rare show of affection, and felt a swell of pride in his chest. His son had become more than he had ever imagined.

Later, in the privacy of Jon's chambers, Eddard and Jon sat down to talk. The room was simple, with a sturdy wooden table, a bed of furs, and a large window that looked out over the sea. The waves crashed against the shore, filling the room with the sound of the ocean.

Eddard studied Jon, noticing the changes that a year and a half had wrought. Jon's face was leaner, his eyes sharper. There was a confidence in his posture that hadn't been there before. The boy who had left Winterfell was now a young man who had faced battles, built a business empire, and earned the respect of the North.

"I've heard stories, Jon," Eddard said, his voice filled with pride. "Stories of a young man who killed Ironborn invaders on Bear Island. Stories of a man who created a drink that has the lords of the North clamoring for more. I've heard your name spoken in Winterfell, in White Harbor, even as far as the Wall. Jon Snow, the boy who became a man before his time."

Jon looked down at his hands, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I've done what I could, Father. The North has always been my home, and I wanted to do something that would make it stronger."

Eddard nodded, his heart swelling with pride. "You've done more than that, Jon. You've made the North proud. You've made me proud. I always knew you were capable of great things, but seeing you now… you've exceeded my expectations. I've missed you, Jon. Arya and Robb miss you as well."

Jon's smile widened at the mention of his siblings. "I miss them too. I've been writing to them as often as I can. Arya tells me she's been practicing with her needle, and Robb… well, he's always asking when I'll return."

Eddard sighed, a mix of sadness and resolve in his voice. "It's been more than a year since you came to Bear Island, Jon. I know it hasn't been easy, but you've made the best of your time here. I don't want you to spend the full three years away from Winterfell. You've proven yourself in ways that few men your age could ever dream of. You're a valuable member of House Stark, and I want you to return home."

Jon's expression grew serious. He had expected this conversation, but it didn't make it any easier. "I don't want to spend the full three years here either, Father. But… I don't think I'm ready to return to Winterfell just yet."

Eddard frowned, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean, Jon? If you don't want to stay on Bear Island, where would you go?"

Jon hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I've been thinking about where I belong, Father. I've learned a lot on Bear Island, but there's still so much I don't know about the North. I've heard stories of the Mountain Clans who live in the Northern mountains. They're different from the rest of the North, and I want to learn from them."

Eddard's brow furrowed in thought. The Mountain Clans were a fierce and independent people, living far from the comforts of the southern castles. They were warriors, hunters, and survivors, and their way of life was harsh and unforgiving. It was not a place for a lord's son, let alone a bastard of Winterfell.

"You want to live among the Mountain Clans?" Eddard asked, his voice laced with concern. "Jon, they're not like the rest of the North. They're isolated, proud, and wary of outsiders. You'd be living in the wild, far from the safety of Bear Island or Winterfell."

Jon met his father's gaze, his resolve clear. "That's exactly why I want to go, Father. The Mountain Clans have survived for centuries in one of the harshest environments in the world. They know the North in ways that we never could. I want to learn from them. I want to understand the North as they do."

Eddard sat back in his chair, contemplating Jon's words. He had always known that Jon was different—that he had a restless spirit that couldn't be confined to the walls of Winterfell. But this was unexpected. Eddard had hoped that Jon would return to Winterfell, where he could take his place alongside Robb and the other Stark children. But now, Jon was asking for something else—something that Eddard wasn't sure he could grant.

"The Mountain Clans are not easy to win over, Jon," Eddard said slowly. "They don't trust outsiders, even those from the North. It won't be easy to live among them."

Jon nodded. "I know that, Father. But I'm willing to earn their trust. I've faced worse odds before, and I've always come out stronger for it."

Eddard studied his son, seeing the determination in his eyes. Jon had grown up so much in such a short time. He was no longer the boy who had been sent away from Winterfell—he was a man who knew what he wanted and was willing to fight for it.

After a long moment, Eddard sighed and nodded. "If this is what you want, Jon, then I won't stand in your way. You've proven that you can take care of yourself, and I trust your judgment. But promise me one thing—if you ever find yourself in trouble, if you ever need help, you'll come to me. You'll come home."

Jon smiled, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "I promise, Father. I'll always come home."

The next few days on Bear Island were a whirlwind of preparations. Jon made arrangements for his business to continue running smoothly in his absence. He trusted the Voran to oversee the production of Northern Honey and coffee, and he ensured that his agents in White Harbor were well-informed of his plans.

Before Eddard departed, he and Jon shared one last evening together. They sat by the fire, talking late into the night about the past, the future, and the North. Eddard told Jon stories of the Mountain Clans—of the fierce warriors who had fought alongside the Starks in ancient times, and of the old ways that still survived in the mountains.

Jon stood at the edge of the dock, watching as the ship carrying his father receded into the distance. The cold wind whipped around him, but he barely noticed it. His mind was already turning toward his new journey. Eddard's visit had given him both encouragement and a renewed sense of purpose. The prospect of living among the Mountain Clans was daunting, but Jon felt more determined than ever.

He turned away from the dock and walked back toward the keep. The halls of Bear Island were bustling with activity, the people going about their daily routines. The sounds of the forge, the chatter of the traders, and the distant laughter of the children blended into a symphony of life that seemed to echo Jon's own anticipation.

Jeor Mormont approached him as he entered the keep. The older lord had a thoughtful expression on his face, and he clasped Jon's shoulder with a firm grip. "Your father is a good man, Jon. He's proud of you, and so am I. You've made a name for yourself, and it's not just because of your business. It's because of who you are."

Jon nodded, appreciating the sentiment. "Thank you, Lord Mormont. I hope to live up to the expectations placed upon me."

Jeor gave him a stern look. "Don't try to be someone you're not. You've already shown that you're capable. Just be yourself, and you'll find your way."

As the days passed, Jon made final preparations for his departure. He packed the essentials he would need for his time among the Mountain Clans: sturdy clothing, survival gear, and supplies for the journey. He also took the time to ensure that his business operations were well-organized and that his trusted agents were prepared to handle any issues that might arise in his absence.

Jon's departure was marked by a small gathering in the great hall of the keep. The Mormonts, a few trusted friends, and some of the traders and workers who had helped him build his business came to see him off. There were no grand speeches, no fanfare—just a quiet acknowledgment of the journey he was about to undertake.

Jeor Mormont offered a final piece of advice. "The Mountain Clans are not like the people you've known. They are a different breed, with their own customs and ways. Be respectful, be patient, and be prepared for the unexpected. They respect strength and honor, and you'll need both."

Jon nodded, absorbing the advice. "I understand. I'll be careful."

With his farewells said and his supplies packed, Jon set out for the mountains. The journey would be long and arduous, but Jon was prepared for the challenges ahead. He knew that living among the Mountain Clans would be unlike anything he had experienced before. They were a people known for their resilience and independence, living in a land that was as unforgiving as it was beautiful.

The journey to the lands of the Mountain Clans was a test of endurance. Jon traveled through snow-covered landscapes, navigating treacherous terrain and braving the elements. Each step took him further from the familiar comforts of Bear Island and Winterfell, and closer to the wild heart of the North.

As he approached the borders of the Mountain Clan territories, Jon marveled at the rugged beauty of the land. The mountains rose sharply from the earth, their peaks often shrouded in clouds. The valleys between the peaks were narrow and deep, carved by ancient glaciers and rivers. It was a harsh, yet mesmerizing landscape, one that seemed to pulse with an ancient, untamed energy.

Jon made contact with a guide he had arranged through his contacts. The guide was a grizzled man with a weathered face and a wary eye. He led Jon through the high passes, pointing out landmarks and warning him of potential dangers. The guide's demeanor was cautious, but not unkind. He respected Jon's determination and skills, and his tacit approval was a small but significant gesture of acceptance.

When they finally arrived at a Mountain Clan's main settlement, Jon was struck by the stark contrast between the bustling life on Bear Island and the isolated existence of the Mountain Clans. The settlement was a collection of sturdy wooden structures, built into the sides of the mountains and protected by high wooden walls. The people moved with purpose, their lives clearly dictated by the harsh environment in which they lived.

Jon was introduced to the clan leader, a stern-faced warriors who eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He made sure to show respect and humility, understanding that he was a stranger in their midst. He spoke of his desire to learn from them and to understand their way of life. His sincerity and the knowledge of his father's reputation helped to ease some of their wariness.