"𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓'𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑," their father always called it. Could make a man or woman wild in a sense, unpredictable, and powerful. And when a violet-eyed twin born to the Lord Eddard Stark, all knew that the boy would have it. And he did.
Beside his...
꧁~~~Benget Stark~~~꧂ ꧁~~~298 After Conquest~~~꧂ ❄❄❄
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꧁The eyes of each member of the Night's Watch nearly made his skin crawl. Nearly made him deck someone across the face just for looking at him the way they did. Many of them never liked him or Jon to begin with. But now, seeing as how the Lord Commander gave them leave, actual letting them go, something that was unheard of in the history of the Watch, they hated the twins even more than they already did.
He was dressed in black once more, from head to toe, he was wearing black. From his boots, his trousers and thick blouse and leather jerkin, to his gloves and the cloak, he felt like a crow. Literally. A crow.
But of it were possible to he a black sheep amongst Black Brothers, than Ben surely felt that way. In the rather short time that he had been gone, the people he had helped guide and train to at least gain a better understanding of what they were doing in swordplay became strangers. He knew their names, and they knew his. And for that, they seemed to hate him. He had already offered to help in anyway he could, trying once more a second time a short while later, only to be given the same answer.
So now, Ben did not know what to do. He was a steward, technically. To be Jeor Mormont's personal steward and squire alongside Jon, to arm him in battle, to gather his letters and sort his papers, to change his sheets and prepare his baths. A glorified wet nurse is more like it.
The snows fell just a little bit harder than it had since coming here. Ben knew that atop the Wall, the wind was howling like wolves, roaring like dragons and with just the same power as them, too. He were lucky to be on the ground. Some luck, he thought to himself, I'd rather be up there, flying away from all of this..
"Benget Stark."
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