The Long Winter

Fourteen - An air of truth

« Saaaaam ! Come on over here ! » Gilly shouted from the back of the library.

They had stayed in there all day. Between the wooden shelves packed with books full of unsettling stories, the one writing itself outside the walls of the library felt like yet another tale. Its peaceful silence was a soothing balm for a fatigue no amount of sleep could heal.
Sam didn't find the courage to attend the training.
Help on that area was welcome as he knew no amount of reading battle stories could replace swinging a real sword. It wasn't laziness that kept him from going, it wasn't either the humiliation he knew he would've faced had he gone. The reason behind his absence was plain old fear and a good handful of shame. Indeed, confronting Jon meant confronting the his own treachery; what friend could hide such a news from another ? Although he had only mentioned it once, since Jon never was much of a talker, Sam caught a glimpse of how much he had suffered from not knowing his mother. One look was enough though, to see the deep wound that was still open.
Sam withheld the answers to the life long questionings Jon had about his upbringing, and what he couldn't reveal had the power to shatter much more than his friend's past.

The bookcase creaked as he reached to put a book back on the last shelf and felt his whole body hurt as he extended his arm. He had had trouble sleeping since the night Bran enlightened him with his knowledge. It was quite disturbing to realize that the world believed in a distorted version of history and that, even the oldest measters who thought themselves wise, didn't have a clue about what happened in truth. History had painted Prince Rhaegar as a ruthless man, a monster who kidnapped and dishonored the innocent Lyanna Stark.
Falling in love was his only crime.

« Look what I found » said Gilly, as he came closer.
« What is it? »
« A letter I found hidden in a book » she said as she handed Sam an aged sheet of paper, stained with dirty fingerprints « — look at the seal, » she pointed at it with her finger. He squinted to try and see in the dark as the night had almost fallen. On the upper edge of the letter was a red wax seal encrusted with a three headed dragon. He looked up at Gilly, who stared back at him with eyebrows raised to the sky. «Targaryen » he whispered, as he urged himself to unfold the letter.
He pivoted towards the back of the room, so that the remaining light that came through the windows behind him could enlighten the writing.

With a breathy voice, he read out loud,

« My beloved Lyanna, »

« Lyanna? As in Lyanna Stark ? » asked Gilly, with a surprised tone.
They shared a look full of interrogations before Sam continued.

« I write to you from amidst a rain of arrows and cries where the overflowing violence makes it hard to remember that music can be more than the sound of clashing swords. It is hard to sleep surrounded by horror but the extreme fatigue allows me to dream with wide open eyes. My dreams are soft and peaceful. They take me different places, all the more beautiful than the others. Endless sand dunes in the desert, forests full of blossomed trees, and so many shooting stars in the sky that the nights shine as bright as summer afternoons. Such marvelous things I see yet none are half as beautiful as you.
I wish I was near, to sing to you the echanting words that flow through my mind as I picture your face, Lyanna.
The melody of your laughter will always be my favorite song.
And as you always say, fear makes the wolf look bigger, and right now I feel like a lizard amongst a flock of stags. At times the feeling of helplessness takes over but the memory of your touch feeds me with courage to fight for the realms future.
For our future.