Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic - ASOIAF/GOT [Book - 1]

Chapter 2 - The Awakening

North, King's Road, 289 AC, two days later

Jon opened his eyes and realized he was in constant motion. Quickly, he looked around and saw that he was asleep inside a cart. Dozens of questions began to form in his mind, but a slight headache interrupted them. Suddenly, memories of what happened before he passed out came rushing back, and he felt pain. Pain for a mother he would never see again, pain for losing his last hope of life.

Even as a bastard, he would do anything to reach the person who could give him a chance to feel the true love of a mother. He longed for maternal love in his life, and it would be his mother who could heal his wounds and traumas from the past two years. Now, discovering that his mother was dead at the hands of his own father's words, he lost her too. Why should he live on, in that hole called one of the most renowned castles in Westeros, Winterfell?

He wanted to live as far away from that place as possible now. Sure, there was still Arya and his father there, but he didn't want to stay there anymore, even if he felt the pain of distancing himself from the few people who truly loved him. Jon wanted to find his home somewhere else.

The boy expressed his lifeless and hopeless gaze again. He wanted to know what to do with his life now. He reasoned that he should first have information about the current situation and why on earth he was inside a cart, especially alone.

"Is my father sending me to the Wall for theft?" He thought for a moment. "I heard many criminals are sent there."

Trying to keep his face as normal as possible, he opened the curtain and saw some guards. One of the four noticed him, and upon seeing Jon awake, quickly spoke for the others to hear:

"Look, the little thief is awake! Hide your wallets, lads, HAHAHAHA.

" They started laughing after that comment, and Jon shrunk a bit. Still, he tried to maintain some dignity in front of these men and did his best not to cry in the face of mockery, which hurt him a lot.

"What's happening? Where are they taking me?" He said, but his tone showed a bit of desperation. The men stopped laughing, now looking somewhat conflicted, until one of them came closer to the window and said, "We're going to the Wall, lad. We're escorting you north, by direct order of your father, Lord Stark."

Despair overcame Jon. "Do the gods hate me so much?" It was his first question in his mind after hearing this.

"Not only do they take my mother from me, but they also have my father send his 8-day-old son to the Wall?" Even though he claimed he no longer wanted to stay in Winterfell, finding out that his father sent him to the Wall was a shock.

"Still, it would be better than losing a hand," he muttered. He was very afraid of losing his hand, despite being able to take it with a grain of skepticism; his father would never bring him to such a situation. Still, being sent to the Wall was a bitter pill to swallow, so he asked with a tone still showing his desperation.

"Am I going to be sentenced to the Wall for theft?" I asked. The men looked at each other. The man who spoke to me before didn't have the disdainful look like the others. He looked at me and said in a neutral voice,

"No, lad, at least not forever. Your father plans to punish you by spending 1 year at the Wall with your uncle, Benjen Stark." He said, and the boy's heart eased a bit. He just didn't know if it was because he wouldn't be at the Wall forever or because Uncle Benjen could take care of him. His uncle had always been a good person to him when he visited Winterfell.

Jon thanked for the information and closed the window again. He lay on the small bed inside the cart as he looked up at the ceiling. He thought about the future. He was a bastard, a boy hated by the world, without a mother, a father too busy to be the same, a stepmother who hated him, a brother who mocked him as if it were his natural right, a sister who disgusted him in the same way.