But despite being amongst the first few to know about this secret of his, Eddard had never directly asked him to divulge the details of all of his 'friends', and all their powers.
Because just learning about that mythical bird Frost, his sneaky pet rat, that chirping smaller bird, and his shadow cat, and what he could make them do had forced Eddard to see him in a different light.
No longer was he just a naive young lad of his; now, he was someone who had been granted unimaginable powers by the Old Gods for perhaps a higher purpose, and that made him feel as if he needed to agree with everything the boy did, and even help him with whatever he asked for, no matter how outrageous it may be.
And he did not believe that was a good mindset for a parent to have towards his children.
But even without a direct inquiry, he had inferred much over the years from the bits and pieces from Robb's unconscious bragging of Jon's feats to his siblings after his usual conversation in the goodswood via the shadowcat.
So he already had a faint concept that Jon was in command of some form of mighty power which made him almost invincible out here at the Sea... but he just did not know what shape that power took.
"It's coming," Merchant Sam suddenly exclaimed with anticipation in his voice, bringing Eddard out of his thoughts as he followed the man's line of sight, only to see the sea surrounding the rightmost vessel of the pirate fleet undulating with massive waves rocking it up and down, looking from afar as if the ship was caught in a whirlpool.
"What is—"
Eddard's inquiry got stuck in his throat as his mouth went dry, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw a scene that he would never forget in his lifetime.
Out of nowhere, two towering pillars of flesh pierced through the sea floor on either side of that ship, and then for a few moments, they stayed there suspended in the sky as if they were fingers of a god rising out of the sea floor.
And then with no warning whatsoever... they slammed down on the vessel in their midst.
The sound that followed was not one that Eddard had a name for.
It was wood screaming. It was the deck of a hundred-ton ship folding in on itself like a piece of parchment, masts snapping, men screaming in horror, as their limbs were crushed.
And that was not the end, as the tentacles rose again and wrapped their end on the pointy sides of the wretched vessel and brutally tore it apart in half, leaving nothing but debris in the place where there had been a whole ship just a few seconds ago.
Eddard's body jerked inwards as he suddenly realised that he had stopped breathing...
The man had seen war. He had seen Robert's rebellion, had stood over countless bodies at the Trident, had walked through the wreckage of more battles than he cared to count.
He had thought, in some arrogant corner of his mind, that there was very little left in this world that could still make his blood run cold.
But today, he realised, he had been wrong... very wrong.
"I must say, My Lord... this is not a visual that one gets used to, no matter how many times I see Lady Inky at work," Merchant Sam muttered from beside him with an awed expression on his face.
'It even has a name,' Eddard thought distantly, his ears, his eyes, and his mind unable to look away from the natural disaster that had declared war on the pirates.
By now, the other ships were also coming out of their shocks as they began to comprehend what had occurred and what was about to happen to them.
It bought the nearest ship perhaps four seconds before the tentacles found their way towards it.
Rising from the churning water on either flank, with the same unhurried manner, as if giving them time to think of their options, and then... it struck.
And the ship stopped being a ship, and became a wet cloth to be twisted between those two massive arms—planks exploding, mast cracking, and toppling sideways, men flung from the deck in arcs that would end badly no matter how and where they landed.
From there, it was complete pandemonium.
As the doomed men across the remaining ten ships, the same ones who had been roaring with bloodlust and the pleasure of an imminent hunt just moments ago, began running around like headless chickens.
Some captains screamed for their men to come about, dragging their wheels hard over, thinking, hoping that they could still run away somehow while that 'thing' was busy with their comrades.
Others simply abandoned their ships outright, throwing themselves over the rail into open water, in the insane hope that the mighty beast would be too lazy to search for the small target hidden amongst the rubble.
And some, who understood their situation best, simply gave up and just stood there with their minds broken, contemplating their choices in life because of which they had ended up here, experiencing the wrath of a god.
...
On the screaming maiden, the Captain had gone berserk, shouting himself hoarse, screaming at everyone and everything, kicking and punching at his men to get them to raise the sails, to row, to somehow make their ships run away from here... but no one was listening to him anymore.
"We should never have come, Captain. I-I told you to run away." The first mate could be seen saying over and over, looking as if he had lost his soul, "They always said no pirate survives seeing the flag of the White wolf, we should have listened—But wait, it is not a wolf, it is a Kraken, it should have been a Kraken on the flag... T-They cheated..."
'This man has gone insane,'
And his Captain did not blame him for this, as it was a valid reaction for anyone seeing this apocalyptic scene with their own eyes.
But it wasn't over yet, because just as the surviving ships were rushing to escape in different directions, thinking that they still had a chance... four more monstrous tentacles silently rose from the sea surface, near the previous two.
And then all of them began smashing the sea randomly in all directions.
One slap here, one slap there... the fleeing ships were being destroyed left and right, with no chance for them to resist.
'Is this God's punishment for us?' The Captain finally despaired as his resolve broke down, and he, too, accepted his fate.
With his mind on the verge of being snapped, at this final moment, a small corner of the pirate's mind, the one housing conscience, which he had crushed years ago, woke up...
He thought of the girls he had ruined, the families he had torn apart, the innocent men he had tortured for their money; slowly, all those faces began blurring in his mind, as if someone out there was trying to show him all the sins because of which he had ended up here.
'Perhaps... I should have stopped,' he thought with a hint of regret in his heart as he watched the monstrous tentacle rise up above his ship, 'Somewhere, I should have stopped and controlled my lust and my greed and—'
SLAM
...
A few minutes later, what remained of the mighty pirate who had been the scourge of the sea near Volantis was just a slow spreading field of wreckage—broken spars, torn sailcloth, shattered planks—and scattered amidst them here were piles of human bodies, most of whom were dead, but some were somehow still alive.
But every time a groan escaped their lips, or someone moved a little, the massive tentacle would rise back up, and capture them with absolute precision, and then raise him up triumphantly into the air, holding him there as though displaying his trophy— and then it would fling him far, with a monstrous, almost playful force, out across the water.
From the decks of the Stark family galleon, it looked disturbingly similar to a child playing a game of hide and seek.
Only it was a game where the loser had to pay with his life.
Eddard silently stood at the rail of their ship and watched with a somewhat detached expression on his face, as if he had completely removed his emotions, to look at this situation objectively.
Around him, the crew had stood by and watched the whole spectacle without any sign of panic, with calm, almost reverent expressions on their faces.
Before today, Eddard had always been a little perplexed by the absolute loyalty that these men always displayed towards Jon, because, after all, it had just been a few years since the boy set off on his own, and they joined him, so this ability of his to make them put their absolute trust in him, a young teenager... had felt unnerving to him.
But now, seeing the fanatical expressions on their face, he finally understood that they didn't just believe in him; they had put their complete faith in him, and believed him to be more than a man.
A God... perhaps.
How am I supposed to scold him now when he makes a mistake, Eddard thought, with a kind of helpless, troubled wonder, after seeing him do something like this?
...
Unknown to the Starks, almost at this exact same moment, another silent massacre was taking place back in the city of Volantis, as the small noble family belonging to a merchant named Rhiso had been completely decimated in just a matter of hours, with most of its members suddenly falling ill and then dying a painful death, with no rhyme or reason, no culprit in sight.
...
High above, on the curved roof of the cabin block, three young girls lay flat on their stomachs.
They had sneakily climbed out of their room through their window ledge and then witnessed the whole destruction of the pirate fleet.
"Ah," Sansa suddenly flinched as she saw the tentacles raise a man by his two legs, and then tear him in half before throwing them in different directions, "Ugh! I should have listened to Father and not come here."
The girl had been outnumbered two to one and simply had no choice but to follow the other two in this naughty excursion.
"This is... amazing," Arya breathed with excitement in her voice, as unlike her sister, there was nothing but admiration in her eyes.
Seeing the absolute godly strength being displayed in front of her had invigorated the young girl's spirit like nothing else, and to think that it was her very own brother, her most favourite person in the world, her Jon, who was capable of this.
The same Jon who would have her win their duels in the goodswood, and had never, not once, belittled her for liking swords more than needlework.
For one bright, heady moment, Arya felt as though nothing in this entire world could ever touch her again, no matter how powerful they are.
And then, unbidden, came the image of that fat, evil Merchant who had hurt that little girl just because she was his slave, and almost immediately a thought took hold in her head.
"Jon should just get rid of all the Slavers," she murmured slowly with a faraway look in her eyes, "He should be able to, right?" she asked as she turned to the two girls beside her, "His Kraken is so strong, so it should be easy for him... and then all the slaves would be free,"
"I... It doesn't work like that, Arya," Daenerys explained with a wry smile on her face, as she took her eyes away from the pile of wreckage in the distance, "The kraken's power is mighty, sure, but it only works out here at the sea, and on land... it would not have much reach, right? And those Masters and their families have ruled in this way for centuries now, so I presume that they would rather stop using the sea entirely, and hide in their stury castles, than to surrender their right to have slaves."
"Argh! Damn it," Arya cursed as she scrunched up her face, "If even something like this is not enough to deal with them, then what else would work?"
'Something scarier than this,' Daenerys' expression shifted, as her eyes unconsioucly went down towards the direction of her bed under which lay her chest containing the three most precious rocks in the world, rocks capable of bringing change to the world, 'I know of a beast like that,'
...