ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

01

✎ All rights belong to GRRM.✎

Jon I

As Jon packed his saddlebag, he thought over his brief time at the Wall. When he had first arrived, he had expected to join the ranks of honorable men, all with their minds set upon upholding their sacred duty of protecting the realm. Jon himself had dreams of becoming a ranger, just like his uncle, and taking the fight to the Wilding threat while his half-brother ruled the North.

What he found instead was a group of half-frozen criminals who only looked forward to eating, sleeping, and slipping off to Mole's Town to spend a night with a cheap whore. They were the lowest forms of man, most of which looked more at home slipping a knife between a person's ribs and robbing them blind than standing guard with a sword and shield.

In his short time, Jon had been belittled and bullied by the cruel master-at-arms, Ser Allister Thorne, and had been singled out not only for his bastard status but the fact that he had grown up in a castle. Jon was a tough young man, but he's had as much as he could stomach of the Night's Watch. With the news of his father's capture in King's Landing, he had his reason for leaving, and he was going to take it.

News had reached Jon that Robb was calling his banners and marching south to rescue their father, and Jon had every intention of pledging his sword to his brother, the way he had promised to when they were boys before Jon set his heart on becoming a man of the Night's Watch.

The young man known as the Bastard of Winterfell folded his black cloak and armor neatly on his bunk, swinging the same old cloak he had arrived with over his shoulders. The Watch was already low on supplies and Jon knew it would be better for him if he didn't show up dressed like a man of the Watch when he got to Robb.

After making his bunk, he swung his saddlebags over his shoulder and grabbed the long bundle that the blind maester of Castle Black had given him the day after he had arrived. With his possessions in hand, he slipped through the door and into the empty courtyard.

"Come on Ghost," he called quietly. The albino wolf was nearly the size of a full-grown dog and was likely to grow even larger.

Jon kept to the shadows, moving quickly across the square to the little building that acted as the stables. Inside, the same horse he had ridden into Castle Black was still stabled. He swung the saddle up onto the animal, stroking its nose to keep it quiet.

"You're leaving, aren't you." a quiet voice said from behind Jon.

Jon turned, catching sight of Sam, son of Lord Tarly of the Reach. He was fat, very fat, with dark hair, pale eyes, and a moon-shaped face. He was unlike everyone else at Castle Black. He was actually nice, although he was also shy and timid. Ever since the boy had gotten to the Wall, he had endured twice as much hardship as Jon had. He could barely hold a sword and was bullied constantly by Thorne and the other recruits. To be frank, the boy was a craven, and he had admitted as much to Jon when they had first spoken after Jon had defended him from the others.

But in the past week, Sam had become Jon's only friend at the Wall, something the young man was grateful for. The two had created a bond, forged through the bullying each received when they first arrived at Castle Black.

Jon nodded sadly. "I am," he admitted. "I have to. My father's been imprisoned. Robb's marching south and I'm going to join him."