WOLF'S BLOOD (Game of Thrones)

Six

        A month passed, and still, Bran hadn't woken. Osric and Robb had begun to take turns feeding and letting his pup, still unnamed, run in the yard. The wolf hardly ever wanted to leave Bran's side, and Osric couldn't blame him. Catelyn had resigned herself to Bran's chambers, refusing to leave. Her meals were brought to her, but every time Osric went to see her, he saw plates of half-eaten food. Her blue eyes were clouded with fatigue and red from crying.

        "You need to eat," Osric told her one night as the rain pattered against the window. "And sleep."

        "If he wakes while I'm asleep- -" she had began, but Osric had stared her down.

        "It'll be all useless if he wakes up and you've gone mad from a lack of sleep."

        "He is my son," she had said, her fingers working nimbly as she wove a prayer wheel. "I have to be here for him."

        "Maester Luwin says the worst is passed. You don't have to worry."

        "If the worst is passed, then why hasn't he woken?!" 

        There was a fire in her blue eyes, pained and angry. And the tears had started to fall as Osric lowered to pull his mother into an embrace as she weakly said, "I don't want you to go to the Wall, Osric. I don't want you to leave me."

        "Mother," he said, his tone kind. "I'll write as often as I can. I'll visit when I can. I'll do everything to show that I've not forgotten my family."

        "But it isn't the same," she said, her voice racked with sobs. "And you only wish to join because of that bastard."

        Osric stiffened a great deal at that, but he held her, still. "Jon is as much of my brother as Robb is. You know that, Mother. He needs a friend at the Wall. Someone to keep him safe."

        Catelyn said nothing. She pulled away from his grip, shaking her head as she returned to the prayer wheel. "I would like it if you left, Osric," she said.

        And so, he did.

        It was a cloudless day when it came time for everyone to leave Winterfell. Jon and Osric to the Wall, with Tyrion Lannister joining them. Sansa, Arya, and Eddard to King's Landing with King Robert and his host. The thought of it made Osric's stomach twist with a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety.

        He needed to finish saying his goodbyes, though the very thought of it terrified him. He wandered the halls with Aegon at his side, the pup now standing up to his hip. He found Sansa packing with her Septa, and the girl smiled faintly at the sight of him. "Osric," she said, stepping forward to embrace him.

        He smoothed his hand over her bright red hair, smiling as she stepped away. "I've come to say goodbye," he said, and her smile faltered slightly.

        She turned away from him, picking up a small bundle from her bed. "I made this for you," she said, and she put it in his arms. "All black, since you're joining the Watch. Even the fur is dyed."

        Osric's blue eyes widened as he looked at the thick cloak she had given him. Black as onyx and trimmed with dyed black fur. "Sansa," he said. "I don't know what to say."

        She was grinning proudly. "Septa Mordane helped, of course, but I did most of the work. Do you like it?"

        Osric chuckled, "Aye, I love it, Sansa.

        "Good. I'll miss you, Osric."

        "And I, you, Sansa."

        He left her then, Aegon following. She was his last goodbye, and now everything felt real. The game he had been playing before had no stakes. Childish folly was over and now he was leaving home. By the Gods, he was leaving, and his head was swimming so much he could hardly think.

        He found Jon in the yard, his white pup, Ghost beside him. "What's that?" Jon asked, giving a nod toward the cloak in Osric's arms.

        "A gift from Sansa," he replied. "I can imagine she stayed awake all night completing it."

        "You've said your goodbyes?"

        "Aye, and you?"

        Jon nodded. "Your mother hates me. She thinks I've made you make this decision, but even I think you're mad for it."

        "My mother would find a way to blame you for anything, Jon," Osric said. "Take it in stride. You'll hear it no longer once we've taken the black."

        Jon shook his head, black curls falling in his eyes. "The Wall's a place for bastards and thieves, Osric. Not trueborn sons."

        Osric shrugged at that. "Jeor Mormont is Lord Commander. Osric Stark became Lord Commander at ten years old. There are plenty of trueborn sons that have joined the Watch, Snow."

        "Aye, but you shouldn't be among them," Jon said.

        "And who's going to stop me?"

        To that, Jon had no answer. He shook his head, turning away and making to join the others who had gathered by the horses. "Come, Ghost," he said, and the white wolf gave Osric a lingering look before following his master.

        Beside Osric, Aegon let out a low growl, stiffening as Osric lay a hand on his back. "Easy, Aegon," he said, and the wolf closed his mouth, whining faintly.

        As Osric moved to mount his horse, he stared down the road, realizing that his hands were shaking as they gripped the reigns. Perhaps he was afraid, perhaps excited, or perhaps even a mixture of the two.

        At the Kingsroad, the two parties forked off, Eddard, Sansa, Arya, and the royal party to the right toward King's Landing. Osric, Jon, Benjen, and Tyrion Lannister to the left toward the Wall.

        As they turned down the left fork, Osric smiled.