Chapter 15: Direwolf of Winterfell
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Jon Snow
The bastard of Winterfell ran as fast as he could; he didn't know where he was even going; all of it felt like a blur to him; why couldn't his father just accept him?
Why? Just why can't he see me as nothing more but his bastard? A stain on his honor. I showed everyone that I have worth as well, that the bastard name didn't mean that I'm worthless, I showed everyone that it doesn't matter if you are Trueborn or Bastard; in the end, the best men will come out on top, Jon thought, his mind in turmoil.
It had started snowing more since he ran away; Jon knew Kessa was following him. A smile formed on his lips; unlike his father, she didn't leave him alone; Jon knew Arya was like Kessa in a way; a chuckle escaped his mouth at the thought of his wild sister who couldn't stay put one second.
As he kept walking, Jon suddenly saw the entrance to the crypts, but it was open!? Jon finds it strange; his father would always make sure the door was closed whenever he left the crypts.
Jon gulped at the staircase that led inside the crypts, the stairs made of stones, two wolf statues at the right and left side just at the end of the stairs, almost as if they were guarding it from people who weren't Stark.
Jon felt his breath stop in his throat, suddenly cold; his throat felt as if it was made of sharp ice, cutting on his skin; breathing was suddenly hard for the boy.
Jon grabbed a torch placed in the wall, still burning, brightening up the tunnel in front of him. Jon slowly walked downstairs; every step felt heavy; he had been here before, two times, Jon remembered.
His father had brought him and Robb together one time, telling them about the past Kings of Winter, telling them about the rich history of House Stark and The North in general.
Robb had felt almost immediately comfortable in the crypts, but not Jon; he knew the kings of Winter were looking at him with contempt; they didn't want him here. You're No Stark.
The second time, when Robb had the brilliant idea that the crypts had hidden treasures buried underneath somewhere after hearing ridiculous stories from old nan who no one knew how old she was, all his father told them was that she was old nan even when he was growing up in Winterfell.
Jon didn't think they were any hidden treasures there, but he did think there might be something hidden there; the crypts went on forever, and the deeper you go, the older the sleeping kings were.
Jon took his step on the cold ground; the king of old was looking at him now; he was in a sacred place. Leave, You're No Stark
Jon heard them say, right now, he ignored them, but at the same time, he didn't even know why he was even here; no one was here.
Jon felt a shiver; he didn't know why but he could hear someone calling him, deep into the crypts, deeper than he had ever gone before; the deeper he got, the voices got louder, telling him that he didn't belong here, telling him that he was no Stark.
Jon reached a statue when the voices suddenly came to a halt; the bastard stopped dead in his tracks, the voices disappeared, and Jon's eyes found the statue of a woman. While it wasn't anything new to have Stark woman buried in the crypts, Jon's eyes went to the burning candle on her cold hands made of stone, as if trying to warm here, to brighten up the darkness around her.
Jon's eyes went to her face, made of stone, but Jon found himself drawn to her; unlike the others, he didn't feel as if she was judging for what he wasn't. She was not telling him that he was No Stark.
Jon's bare hand touched her stone face, warm below his skin, not cold as he expected; Jon exhaled when he saw blue eyes looking back at him, her eyes suddenly alive, her skin no longer warm, freezing; Jon felt cold, his own breath felt like spikes on his throat, his eyes not being able to move away from the cold blue dead eyes of her.
Jon suddenly heard sounds all around him, as if something was breaking, they were loud, he saw every grave opening one by one, the kings of the past were awake, ready to judge him, they were awake after hundreds of years of slumber.
Jon was shaking from head to toe when the kings came out of their graves with big blue eyes like death itself.
Jon closed his eyes and opened them again, seeing himself lying on the cold ground beside the statue of the woman; Jon jolted back to his feet, looking around; the graves weren't open, and everything was back to normal. Was I dreaming? When did I fall asleep?! Jon's immediate thought was that he was sleeping.
When? I don't remember sitting on the ground, Jon thought, not sure if he was going crazy; he knew his father wouldn't be happy with him; he was always strict when it came to visiting the crypts.
Jon's eyes went to the name of the woman buried in front of him; the name was carved just on the right side of the statue. The name, last name, and the year she died.
Lyanna Stark
283 AC
Jon's eyes widened slightly; he knew his father barely talked about her; whenever he or Robb would ask questions about his childhood in Winterfell, he would avoid mentioning Lyanna, he had no trouble talking about Brandon, but when it came to Lyanna, his father would get sad before dropping the conversation entirely.
All Jon knew of her was what he heard from guards, servants and what Uncle Benjen told them about her. The bastard had listened to the stories of her being swayed by the voice of King Rhaegar; many spoke of how her crying when he sang. He must have loved songs, Jon thought with a sad smile on his face.
Suddenly he thought of singing a song; it must have been six years since she last heard one.
"I hope you like my voice, my lady," Jon murmured before clearing his throat.
Like the sky at night
There, in the dark
You can hide your fear
Can lie, my dear
So forever still, keep me in your dreams
Though they're crimson stained
Go on and spread your wings?
What's the lie?
What's the truth?
What to believe?
Like a fallen angel
Swept away by the wind
Like a memory, falling through time
Into the starry night
Just like I'm touched from above
Won't you hold me tight for eternity
Fly to heaven
Like the sky at night
There in the dark
You can hide your fear
Can lie, my dear
So forever still, keep me in your dreams
Though they're crimson stained
Go on and spread your wings?
What's the lie?
What's the truth?
What to believe?
Like a fallen angel
Swept away by the wind
Like a memory, falling through time
Into the starry night
Just like I'm touched from above
Won't you hold me tight for eternity
Fly to heaven
Like the sky at night
There in the dark
You can hide your fear
Can lie, my dear
So forever still, keep me in your dreams
Though they're crimson stained
Go on and spread your wings?
What's the lie?
What's the truth?
What to believe?
Like a fallen angel
Swept away by the wind
Like a memory, falling through time
Into the starry night
Just like I'm touched from above
Won't you hold me tight for eternity
Fly to heaven
What's the lie
What's the Truth
What to believe
In my life
See the flowers breathing, in the rain; try growing to the edge of light. It's so far away to reach out to the sky.
I'll seize, I'll seize the roses, with my wings We'll Fly.
Like the sky at night
There in the dark
You can hide your fear
Can lie, my dear
So forever still, keep me in your dreams
Though they're crimson stained
Go on and spread your wings?
What's the lie?
What's the truth?
What to believe?
We'll fly away
We'll find a Way
You can hide you fear, can lie, my dear.
We'll see the end, we'll be the end. Fly Higher, Higher, into Heaven.
Jon finished the song, his eyes closed; before opening them, his eyes looked at the stone face of Aunt Lyanna; he could have sworn he saw a smile appear on her stone face, but Jon shrugged it off, his mind probably playing tricks with him.
Jon turned and started walking towards the entrance; as he walked upstairs, he had the feeling someone was nearby; since he started training to get better at Warging, Jon would usually have a feeling when someone was nearby; as he walked outside through the entrance, he had the feeling again but this time much stronger, turning around, he was meet with a small wolf.
The wolf looked tiny; his fur was as white as snow around him, with striking red eyes like blood, Jon was astonished by the wolf's presence, but when Jon did a double-take, he noticed he was a Direwolf.
"Hello there, I'm Jon; who are you?" Jon asked kindly and softly, walking slowly towards the small Direwolf, who surprisingly didn't try to run away from him, instead walked up to him as if he knew Jon.
"You're quite good looking," Jon said with a small chuckle before grabbing him into his hands; the Direwolf started licking his palm, making Jon chuckle as his eyes looked around the area, wanting to see if there was another or if his mother was nearby.
"Where did you come from?" Jon asked; he kept looking around but saw nothing; his attention turned back to the Direwolf who was trying to bite his palm with his small teeth, which barely did anything.
"Do you want to come with me? We can be good friends; I'm sure Kessa will appreciate having a friend to hunt with her," Jon said softly as he started rubbing his head; the Direwolf clearly enjoyed the attention, sticking out his tongue.
"What do you think?" Jon asked, putting him on his level as if waiting for an answer; the Direwolf simply tilted his head to the side in confusion.
Jon chuckled before turning to walk towards Winterfell, he didn't know how long he had been gone, but he didn't want to stay longer and worry his father or Arya.
Just the thought of his wild sister made Jon excited to see her reaction when she saw him; Arya would most likely want to have him herself; the bastard boy could already imagine the little girl chasing the Direwolf around the castle, wanting to play.
Jon's mind suddenly went to his father; he wondered how his father would react to him; he just hoped he wouldn't try to take him away or say that he's dangerous to keep around the castle.
Hearing a high-pitch whistling, Jon looked up just in time to see Kessa land nearby before slowly making her way to Jon; the boy smiled to see her again but noticed the cautious way she was walking towards him, her entire focus on the small white bundle on Jon's hand who didn't look scared in the slightest, the opposite, the small Direwolf looked eager, his tails moving around. Kessa's blue eyes were looking at Direwolf's red eyes with a mix of curiosity and wariness.
Jon frowned slightly, wondering if he would need to warg Kessa in order to stop her from harming the Direwolf, but it seemed that wasn't required because, after three seconds, Kessa made a pleasant sound before acting normal again.
Jon smiled, glad that he didn't need to do anything; leaning her head closer, Jon pet her head, and she made a sound showing she enjoyed it.
Soon, Jon reached the entrance that led inside Winterfell, the part of the castle where the Stark family sleeps; the guards told him that Lord Stark had asked around for him; Jon simply told them a 'Thank you' for telling him before walking inside.
The servants and soldiers passing by glanced at what he was holding in his arms, some more curious than others; eventually, Jon walked inside his father's solar in time to find him talking with Maester Luwin.
Hearing the sound of the door opening without knocking first, Ned knew only his children and wife walked inside without knocking, especially when he was in a meeting.
Looking over Luwin's shoulder, Ned breathed a sigh of relief seeing Jon walking inside; because of the joy of seeing him again, he overlooked the Direwolf in his arms.
"Jon, where have you been? I have been looking for you," Ned said, standing up, his voice sounding firm, like a lord; despite being happy to see him again, he didn't want Jon to think he could just disappear without telling anyone anything.
Jon looked down at his words before looking back at his father, whose face seemed calmer. "I'm sorry, father, I was in the crypts... after that, I explored around a bit," Jon answered, not wanting his father to think he had fallen asleep in the crypts.
Ned arched an eyebrow when he heard that Jon was in the crypts; he wondered what made Jon go down there; he hadn't thought his son was someone that prayed or visited the graveyard often.
Seeing nothing wrong with what Jon said, Ned allowed himself to relax; his son was safe, and that's all it mattered.
Only now did Ned notice the white wolf moving around on Jon's hands as if trying to escape and explore.
"Who is that?" Ned asked with a smile, walking closer to get a better look at the wolf, but the moment Jon's hand moved away and gave him a better look, Ned knew this one wasn't a wolf, but a...
"Direwolf," Ned gasped in mild surprise; he couldn't believe his eyes, but it was right in front of him, a puppy Direwolf white like snow.
His eyes looked up at Jon, wanting to ask the question that both he and Maester Luwin wanted to ask.
"Where did you find him?" His tone turned back to the 'lord tone,' as Robb liked to call it.
"Right in front of the crypt's entrance, he was alone, and if I just left him, he would not survive," Jon explained.
Ned nodded in understanding, but at the same time, wondering where the Direwolf came from, he couldn't just pop up out of nowhere; as far as he knew, there were Direwolves only outside the wall. Ned had never heard anyone saying that there were direwolves south of the wall; none of the farmers or his lords ever said anything about seeing a Direwolf.
Knowing there was no point dwelling on how he got here, Ned knew just by looking at Jon's face that he wanted to keep the Direwolf.
"You want to keep him?" Ned asked, but more like a statement rather than a question; he didn't even need to look at Jon to know what he was thinking.
"Yes, father. This is a sign from the old gods; a Direwolf south of the wall has not been seen since The King Who Knelt," Jon said with a firm tone looking at his father, not breaking eye contact.
Ned pondered what his son said; he knew this could be a sign from the old gods; if he refused their gift, this could be disastrous; not only that, but Direwolf was the sigil of his house, The Sigil of House Stark.
It would be like turning down his own blood; not only that, but his lords would not be happy with him if they heard that he killed a Direwolf or sent him into the wilderness to die when he could have raised him to be a symbol of House Stark in the future.
As good as that sounds, Ned knew the first problem if Jon kept the Direwolf pup, mainly his wife, who would have two predictable reactions first, she would demand the Direwolf to be killed or that Robb keeps that Direwolf, none of it sat well with Ned, and as far as he could see, it seemed the Direwolf had already chosen Jon as his owner and companion.
A chuckle escaped Ned's mouth, his mind already imagining his brother's reaction when he found out.
Closing his eyes, Ned thought of Lyanna, and Jon, how much he had wronged both of them; opening his eyes, he looked at his son straight dead in the eye.
"You will raise him yourself, you will feed him yourself, and if he dies, you will bury him yourself," Ned stated; Jon nodded in understanding before a smile erupted on his face.
"Thank You, Father"
Ned was happy to see his son smile again, especially after what happened in the courtyard after he defeated Robb.
"Now, go to the main hall, the dinner is ready, and Arya has been asking around for you," Ned ordered; Jon nodded before leaving the solar.
"Don't worry about Catelyn, Jon; if she says anything to you, I will deal with her," Ned reassured him before Jon left; his son nodded before retiring as the door closed.
"The boy is quite something, my lord; this is why I wanted to talk to you. I'm sure you can see it yourself; in the future, he could become an amazing Maester; they don't care whether or not you're a Trueborn or a-like Jon," The maester said, not wanting to use the word bastard when it came to lads like Jon.
Ned simply nodded at what The maester said. Luwin had asked for an audience with him; Ned had allowed him, thinking he wanted to talk about Robb's studying, but instead, Luwin asked if he could give Jon some extra classes, saying someone like Jon was a gold mine just waiting to be open, saying that he could have a bright future as a maester.
Ned thought of it for a long time and found no problem with that idea; after all, with how Jon's situation was, or how I made his situation be, a little voice said in his head, making him feel guilty all over again.
With how things are, I won't allow Jon to join the Night's Watch, Ned thought, already making up his mind. His mind remembered what Catelyn told him after Jon had stormed off the courtyard after defeating Robb.
His wife was quick to blame everything on Jon, saying that he was planning to get Winterfell for himself; just the thought of that discussion caused a headache; Ned now understood why his mother always had headaches when he or Brandon did something stupid.
"What Will you Do with It," Catelyn asked quietly, with venom dripping from every word she said; she didn't even wait until they were inside Ned's solar to ask.
Ned didn't answer her outright. Instead, he opened the door of his solar, walking inside, followed closely by Catelyn, whose eyes seemed like that of a murderer.
Ned sighed, knowing this discussion would come sooner or later, it was well known that Cat didn't like Jon, and he hoped he would be able to delay it for at least some time, but it seemed both Jon and Catelyn had other plans.
Not that Ned blamed his son, he couldn't expect his son to allow Robb to win just because he was Trueborn; the lords around Winterfell were already talking about Jon and Robb. Still, the majority talked about Jon, calling him The White Wolf, while that delighted Ned, knowing people could see how good Jon was with Swordfighting, which brought up new problems.
Catelyn is the first one on the list of problems.
Ned looked through the window, which showed the courtyard of Winterfell, remembering a time when a girl with curly hair had shown everyone that she was the best at riding a horse, his father laughing at Brandon's face when Lyanna won the horse race for the very first time.
Ned found himself smiling at the memories playing out in front of his eyes like a moving picture.
His face turned into a serious one as he turned around to face Catelyn, whose face was red, veins around her forehead; Ned half expected her veins to split at any moment.
"Catelyn, we are doing nothing about Jon; he's my son; all he did was defeat Robb in a spar, something completely natural in a spar, or did you expect that Robb would never lose in a fight" Ned spoke, looking at her directly.
Catelyn didn't break eye contact, "The bastard just humiliated your trueborn son in front of the Whole North; what do you think these lords that watched the spar are talking about now? They are talking about how Robb lost without hitting the bastard once; they are not praising your son, but the bastard; how long before they decide that he's a better future Lord" Catelyn screeched at the end.
Ned wasn't affected by her words, he knew what she was thinking, but he knew Jon was not like that, and the lords would not simply decide to make Jon lord instead of Robb.
He took a step closer towards her in a menacing way. "That is not happening, and you know it; how many times do I have to tell you that Jon is not going to overthrow Robb. The lords of the North would not stand for it; this is not the South, where lords can be changed as if they were flies, the north remembers," Ned finished as he finally stood right in front of her, looking down on her, Catelyn looked away, her hands holding her dress tightly, almost tearing it apart wanting to say more.
"What will you do once he grows up?" Catelyn asked quietly, her voice blank and void of emotions.
"Is up to him, but if I could, I would want him to become a guard or even maester at arms for Robb; if he wants, he can become a knight and explore the South," Ned said, knowing how much Jon wished to see other places.
Catelyn shook her head in denial, clearly indicating that she wasn't pleased with his answer; she probably hoped that he would send Jon to the Wall, maybe even force him.
'No, Never. I already own Jon a lot; sending him there would be a sin,' Ned thought, knowing his sister, she would kill him from beyond the grave if that were to happen.
Silence fell over the solar; no one said anything; the lord of Winterfell felt uncomfortable with how his wife was simply staring at the stone floor in silence. Ned took a step forward, thinking of confronting her, but Cat took a step back.
"I will go and prepare for tonight's feast," She said quietly, her face blank as she left the room without saying another word, leaving Ned alone with his thoughts.
Jon Snow
He ate another pie, enjoying every bite to the fullest; the feast had started on Winterfell, Jon had expected to be sent to the lower tables where the soldiers usually sat, but this time, his father told him to sit with them, Robb and Arya were happy when they saw Jon sit in their table, especially Arya who started bombarding him with questions after another, asking how he leaned this move or that move, and most importantly if he could teach her as well; Jon would simply laugh at her.
Sansa didn't have much of a reaction to his presence, sitting close to Lady Fish, whose face was red, redder than Jon ever remembered, and there was a good reason for it.
Not only did Jon win against Robb in front of the northern lords, but now in the feast, every single lord was talking about Jon. The bastard felt proud of himself to know that, to hear them praising his sword style, some glancing at him from time to time, Jon felt pride on his chest that he had never felt before, his face and eyes smiling like stars in the sky.
He could feel a glare at the back of his head, but he didn't bother to acknowledge her petty attempt to ruin this night. He had earned it, and he was going to enjoy it, probably the first time someone outside of his home would speak good for him.
In a way, it made him feel that he was more than just the bastard of Eddard Stark. More than just the bastard of Winterfell.
Theon Greyjoy right now was busy boasting about fake achievements to servants who would just roll their eyes at his words, none of them believing his words.
Jon had thought of bringing Ghost with him, but he decided against it; he was still untrained, and Jon didn't want him to make some kind of a mess, and it is not like he could keep him in his lap the whole time, a Direwolf like him would rather explore around than sit in one place without moving much.
Jon had decided to give him that name when he noticed that Ghost wasn't making a single sound; despite moving around the floor that was always loud whenever someone stepped on it, he still wasn't heard.
Jon had decided to introduce Ghost to Arya and Robb the following morning.
"Jon, you have gained quite a name," Robb said smiling, with a bitter tone, and Jon could tell his smile was slightly forced.
"Yeh, it is good to hear people singing praises for me for a change," Jon said, wondering how his brother would react; Robb grimaced, something Jon noticed but ignored it. Is he jealous! Jon thought but thought that it was ridiculous; he was a Trueborn, the future lord of Winterfell. He ignored it, for now, drinking water to wash away the sweetness around his mouth and throat.
The feast kept going through the whole night; Jon soon started talking with Lady Mormont; the woman looked quite fierce, especially her daughter, Dacey Mormont.
"That was quite a fight; Jon didn't know Ser Rodrik was so good at training," Dacey said with a doubtful tone.
"He's good, my lady, but I spent a lot of time training alone after the I read in the library," Jon replied, drinking water from his mug; Lord Glover had tried to convince him to drink a bit of beer, saying that was the only thing missing to make him a man, Jon had kindly denied, not noticing the glare Lady Dacey was giving him.
"Library! Aren't you a warrior?" Maege Mormont asked with a stern tone, her face fierce like a bear; Jon gulped slightly at her eyes, piercing him like a sword.
"I like to read as well, my lady, I might be a good warrior, but no warrior is good without a smart head on his shoulder," Jon replied, earning a nod from Maege, who, after looking directly at Jon's eyes looked deep in thoughts, as if remembering something.
"That's right, my boy," Lord Glover suddenly said behind him before slapping him in the back, almost making him fall.
"Be more careful, Glover," Dacey said seriously while her fingers were touching the club she held close, big enough to smash people's skulls.
Robett Glover gulped slightly at her; Dacey was known for her skills in smashing skulls. Jon chuckled at his reaction before noticing that Lady Maege was barely reacting to them; instead, she looked deep in thought.
"Jon, does Lord Robb study with you in the library?" Lady Dacey asked kindly before glancing at Robb, who, much to her horror, was chatting with the ironborn; her eyes quickly went to Ned, hoping he would do something, but instead, he was in a deep conversation with Lord Wyman Manderly, she narrowed her eyes at the ironborn before her attention returned to Jon who seemed not to know exactly how to answer her question.
Jon knew Robb didn't exactly study much, he read the bare minimum to pass whatever Maester Luwin threw at them, but at the same time, he didn't want to paint Robb with bad color.
Looking at Lady Dacey, "He studies as well, my lady, especially the economy and when it comes to war strategy," Jon said, with a much more convincing tone than he had thought; Dacey looked skeptical, while Lord Glover looked convinced, she was about to ask again when...
"Jon, you said you go to the library often?" Maege suddenly asked, drawing the attention of both Dacey and Jon, especially her daughter's attention due to the firm tone she was using.
"Ahh, yes, my lady," Jon answered, confused why she asked again; Dacey seemed to have similar thoughts.
"Have you ever ridden a horse?" Maege asked, looking at Jon directly, especially his eyes, as if examining them, something that Jon found a bit uncomfortable.
"Y-yes, my lady, Ser Rodrik, made sure to teach us how to ride a horse since we reached five name days," Jon said.
"Which one of you is better?" Maege, her voice sound was demanding; Jon started feeling uncomfortable with the way she was eyeing him, something Lady Dacey noticed before frowning at her mother.
"Robb, my lady," Jon answered at once, a complete lie, something everyone in Winterfell knew; even Lady Maege didn't seem convinced in the slightest.
She was about to ask another question when she heard a cough from her daughter. "Jon, how about you return to Little Arya? She seemed to be looking for you," Lady Dacey said, turning to face Jon before pointing at Arya, who seemed bored to death, especially the way she was trying to sneak below the table.
Jon chuckled before saying a farewell to them.
Seeing him walk away, Dacey turned to look at her mother with a frown, opening her mouth, ready to ask what was wrong; her mother lifted a finger, silencing her immediately without even bothering to look at her, her eyes still focused on the figure of Jon Snow.
"Tomorrow, we will ride horses with Jon," her mother said, sounding more like an order. Dacey wondered what was going through her mother's head to make her suddenly so serious but didn't bother asking, knowing she wouldn't answer.
Meanwhile, Maege Mormont had a single thought on her mind, Why do his eyes remind me so much of you, Lyanna?
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