DISCLAIMER:
A Song of Ice and Fire, along with all its content and characters, is the property of George R.R. Martin and licensed by HBO. Please support the original material.
This is a new story I've been thinking about. For those who are fans of "The White Dragon", that story is NOT ending, I just wanted to try something different, I still fully intend to keep pumping out chapters for that story.
To give a little more background before you start reading this, everything that has happened in AGOT is the same aside from what has gone on at the wall. The Others arrival has been delayed, which means no wights attacked Mormont, Jon never burns his hand nor is he given Longclaw, the only thing that is the same is that Benjen Stark has gone missing. Aside from that, everything else is how it happened in the books up to this point.
With that said, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!
Chapter One:
Jon
Jon knelt over a small fire in the woods as he cooked a freshly killed hare. He'd been living off smaller game for weeks as he'd ridden down from the North. His midnight ride from Castle Black was still fresh in his mind, the cold of the night, the beat of his heart as he put league after league between him and the wall. He'd been lucky enough when he left to have been unseen, though part of him still regretted leaving Samwell behind without so much as a goodbye. Though he thought it best, should his friend have tried to stop him he might have made no further than the Gift before he would have been ridden down.
Looking over his shoulder Jon eyed Ghost as his friend panted as he lay next to his bedroll. Jon peeled off a sliver of the cooked rabbit and offered it to his companion. Ghost slowly stretched his neck out and sniffed the offering before he licked the meat from Jon's open palm. Jon ruffled the direwolf's white coat before he began to eat the lean meat.
It had been some time since he'd enjoyed a full belly, though that was to be expected given his circumstances. He'd no coin, and his name was a danger to himself. Winterfell had never been an option, Maester Luwin would have never let him within the castle walls, though he knew Bran would have wished to see him inside. The first few days had been the hardest, his first goal had been to rid himself of his blackened attire, he'd found a suitable green tunic and brown breeches. He'd kept his black riding boots, though he had traded the black wool coat of the Watch for a brown one. It had been more ragged and worn than his old one, but it kept wondering eyes off him.
He'd been on the King's Road until he'd left the Gift, from there he'd trekked through the county, and through streams and forest until at last he'd come to the banks of Long Lake. He'd followed the western shoreline and then the White Knife until he'd reached a small village. There he'd traded his mare for a fresher, though older, horse from a man. He'd thanked him and kept on south until he'd crossed the fork of the river to continue on south. From there he'd cut across the Barrowlands down to the Neck.
It had been Lucky Jon had evaded capture all this time. He'd kept to himself, he only ever ventured into villages and towns if his need was urgent, and when he did he kept to himself. The hardest part of the journey thus far had been his passing between The Twins and Seagard. He'd seen riders more often combing the countryside as he'd entered the Riverlands. Jon had expected the Lords of the Southern Kingdom to be on edge, though it still had been a burden to him. Wither or not they were looking for a brother of the Night's Watch didn't matter to Jon, he expected they any man worth this salt would want to question an armed man within their lands with a war raging on.
He was now nearing the end of his journey. He wondered how his brother might greet him. Jon imagined prayed their reunion would be a joyous one, but he doubted it. By law, Jon was a deserter, an oathbreaker, Robb's duty as a Lord- no, as king, was to relieve him of his head. Jon knew that risk the moment he decided to abandon his vows. All the same, he had to believe his brother would understand, if he didn't . . .
Jon banished the thought. His brother wouldn't kill him, and if he did Jon knew the risk he'd taken. He'd forfeited his life to Robb long ago, it was up to his brother to decide his fate once he arrived at Riverrun. Jon only hoped that Robb would still linger there a while longer. He'd remember hearing the rumors of the capture of the Kingslayer, and then later the news of his brother's Crowning. The King in the North they called him now. Jon wished he could have been there to see it, but he'd have time to make up for missing it once he arrived in Riverrun.
Once Jon had finished the hare, he'd put out the cooking fire and stomped out the embers. Bundling up his sleeping roll Jon found his horse still tied to the same branch where he'd left him. Patting the beast, Jon fixed the roll to his saddle and checked the straps to ensure they were all still taut. Satisfied, Jon untied the grey horse from his branch and climbed into his saddle. Pulling the reins, Jon turned himself south and started back on his path to Riverrun. This would be his last day of riding, if he was correct he'd reach the castle by dusk, maybe a little later.
Looking out to the woods Jon watched as Ghost vanished into the brush. Jon had long since become accustomed to the direwolf venturing off on his own, particularly when he went out to hunt. It was strange, but Jon thought he could almost feel exactly where Ghost was as he was never quite surprised to see Ghost return or leave. It was as if he never truly lost his friend, even when they were apart. Jon had even dreamt he was Ghost at times. He could feel, smell and taste everything Ghost did. It almost felt natural to him, but that was what had scared him the most upon waking, how easy it was to slip into the skin of his wolf. Jon was beginning to have those dreams more and more, and in truth, it had begun to frighten him.
Guiding his horse along a thin stream Jon led his horse along the flow until he spotted a long riverbank just out of the tree line. Smirking Jon knew it to be the Redfork. If he followed it westward it would lead him to where the river forked into the Tumblestone, and there would lay Riverrun.
Jon felt a tinge of pride that he'd managed to make it this far on his own. He imagined many would have been lost or captured before they could have even slipped past Winterfell. Yet here he was, less than a day's ride from Riverrun. Jon fully expected his journey to end with him being taken captive by Tully or Stark bannermen once he approached the castle, from there, he'd have to leave his fate with Robb.
Jon followed the river for hours, staying out of the open as long as he could, though the closer he traveled to Riverrun the sparser the brush became until at last Jon came to a path and eventually a bridge that took him to the River Road. Jon had decided he would give up trying to hide off the main road once the sun had begun to dip low in the sky.
Jon traveled unimpeded until dusk had fallen, it was then that he saw three riders coming up the River Road. Jon rested his hand in his lap near enough to his longsword should he have need of it. Looking at the oncoming men, Jon saw they were flying the silver trout of House Tully. Relaxing, Jon moved his hand from his blade. Jon maintained his course as the men came near. Slowing his horse to a trot, Jon watched as the men spread out as they came upon him. Jon lifted his hand and hailed them as the three surrounded him. Jon stopped to look them up and down as they eyed him back in turn.
The three were dressed in brown boiled leather with a coat of mail underneath and pointed helms adorned their heads. Each man was carrying a spear, a sword upon their belts and frowns upon their lips. The man carrying the Tully banner spoke for the three as he watched Jon. "What brings you this close to Riverrun, friend?" The man said, his voice coated heavy with suspicion.
Jon thought of how he might approach this exact situation for days, and still, he felt his nerves rising, but he calmed himself before he spoke. "I've come to seek an audience with Robb Stark." Jon declared.
The men laughed at that. "You want to see King Robb, do you?" The man was breaking out in laughter. "That's a good one. Take him for questioning." The man motioned to the other two who pointed their spears at Jon's chest.
"My name is Jon Snow." The bastard brother of the king declared. "I am the son of Lord Eddard Stark, and brother to King Robb."
The man lifted his hand and the two men raised their spears in response. "Jon Snow, you say? I'd heard you was a member of the Watch. Word came down from the wall they want your head for abandoning the Watch."
Jon felt tense but remained calm. "Aye, that's the truth of it."
The man pondered his options for a moment before he spoke once more. "If you wasn't the king's brother I'd just cut your head off right here and now, what with you being a deserter and all," The man declared. "But it ain't up to us, that's his Grace's decision I reckon. Take his weapon and bind his hands." The man declared.
Jon wanted to protest that he'd be no trouble, but the men moved without his asking. Jon watched as they took his dagger and sword from his belt and he did nothing as they bound his hands together. Jon grunted at the tightness of the knot as they took the reins of his horse and led him along the River Road. Jon looked to the opposite bank and saw Ghost lingering out in the tall grass watching as they led him away. Jon could sense the distress in the direwolf, but he seemed to understand well enough to stay put.
Two of the men flanked Jon on either side as the third road ahead of him. Jon didn't struggle or make a fuss as they took him closer to Riverrun and eventually through the vast encampment of Robb's army. Tents stretched out throughout the area surrounding the castle of Riverrun, which sat moated in the middle of the fork of the Tumblestone and Redfork Rivers. Jon had read of the gates that once opened flooded the western shore of the castle, Jon saw Riverrun to only be an island, so he expected the moat was still in full use, though the castle had its drawbridge lowered, allowing men to stream in and out of the castle's walls.
Jon remained upon his horse as the three men took him within the castle walls. Jon felt a hundred eyes glancing in his direction as the one of the men helped him from his horse. Looking around Jon felt his nerves starting to build in his gut as doubt started to creep in.
"Go inform Lord Edmure of our find," the leader told the party informed the man to his left. Nodding the man walked away, slipping through large open doors into the inner castle. "Galen, go find this one a cell for the time being." The man named Galen grabbed Jon roughly by the arm as he was taken into the castle.
The dungeons of the castle where dark and damp, despite being above ground. There were no windows to speak of, and the doors of that lead into the chamber whereof thick oak and barred with hard iron. Jon sat behind iron bars in a pile of damp hay as he waited for someone to retrieve him.
There was a rustle of chains from the cell across from his, but Jon couldn't see who'd caused the commotion in the darkness. There was a long moment of silence before the unseen figure spoke up.
"I saw you coming in, through the crack of light when the guard opened the door." The voice sounded familiar to Jon, though he couldn't place it. "I've seen you before, it took me a moment, but I think I've got it." Jon didn't answer. "Oh, come now, it's no fun if you don't talk back. We've nothing better to do after all."
"Who might you be then?" Jon replied.
"See, that's no fun either Snow. I am correct, aren't I? You are Lord Eddard Stark's bastard, the one who ran away from the Night's Watch."
"I didn't run away from the Watch, I left so I could be here." Jon snapped at the man.
"Here, in this dungeon cell? Brilliant plan." He replied sarcastically. "One has to wonder if your brother will take your head. After all, Lord Eddard was always a stickler for the rules, I suppose his pups would be too. Aside from his bastard, obviously."
"Shut up." Jon spat back, his blood was starting to run hot.
"Sorry, didn't mean to anger you." The man replied sarcastically. "But you do have to wonder how your father might have reacted to seeing this. I wonder what he'd do with you, the late honorable Eddard. I'm of the mind he'd probably chop off your head."
"I said shut up!" Jon shouted at the man.
"Oh, you're certainly quicker to anger than your father, that's for sure." The man chuckled. "On the bright side, we're kindred spirits, you and I. Both of us oathbreakers."
"Kingslayer." Jon cursed the man. "We are nothing alike."
"Took you long enough." Ser Jaime Lannister replied. "You really aren't that sharp you know. And besides, we both broke sacred vows, yours a little less sacred and far duller, but vows none the less."
"I hope you rot in this cell until the end of your days." Jon spat at the man.
"Unlikely," The Kingslayer retorted. "I'll either be ransomed, killed, or if I'm lucky you'll all be killed, and I'll finally get to take a nice hot bath."
"Unlikely," Jon replied, throwing the Kingslayer's words back in his face. The man chuckled.
"Maybe you're a bit wittier than I first gave you credit." Ser Jamie chuckled. "Well, at any rate, you might not get to see how my story ends, Jon Snow."
Jon kept quiet after that, having grown sick of the Kingslayer's company. For several hours Jon sat in the dark before he'd grown tired. Eventually, his eyes had started to droop, and he'd laid upon the bed of hay and before he'd found some sleep in the dark. He remained like that until there was a stir at the door that woke him. Looking up Jon saw two men come inside the room, one carrying a torch above his head, though it seemed pointless as the light of morning came pouring in after them. "Jon Snow, you're to come with us."
"Best of luck," The Kingslayer said sarcastically. Looking over to the dirt covered knight. Jon said nothing in reply as he followed the men from the dungeon, leaving the man to rot alone in the dark.
Robb
Robb Stark stood behind his grandfather's desk, his crown of iron and bronze weighed heavy on his brow as he looked down upon is half-brother as who was kneeling before him. Robb had always loved Jon despite his birth, he knew his well of his mother's disdain for him. He could recall receiving the letter from Lord Commander Mormont about Jon's desertion. The news had spread quickly through the North as ravens had reached every hold and castle from the Last Hearth to Moat Cailin, each demanding the Kings Justice for breaking the sacred vow of the Watch. His Mother had been counseling him that Jon should be treated like any other deserter, that he deserved his head taken for his broken honor as a sworn brother.
You mustn't let the men think your justice is unfair. Should you not give Jon your justice the men will think you've no justice at all, his mother had declared. It'll be hard for you, I know, but you must do what is right.
Despite her words, Robb felt sick at the thought of condemning Jon to death, and now looking upon him Robb felt even worse at the thought. He felt better with Brynden and the Greatjon at his sides to counsel him. He'd imaged his mother being there, the thought made him glad she'd already left to seek an audience with Renly Baratheon. He would have hated her to be here in his grandfather's solar whilst they spoke to Jon, and besides that, he already knew her stance.
"Leave us," Robb commanded the two guards who'd escorted Jon from the cell he'd been taken to upon his arrival to Riverrun. The men bowed before turning to leave, the thick oak door closing behind them as they left. It was now just the four of them, and for a moment they all just stewed in silence. Jon looked tired, but Robb couldn't sense any fear from him, in fact, he seemed to be standing tall as he faced him. "You may rise."
"Your Grace," Jon kept his head bowed before him, Jon's voice sounded tired as he looked, Robb suspected that the past few weeks had been rather hard for him.
"When I received the raven I didn't believe it, but here we are," Robb said bitterly. "I'd have never expected you to be one to break his vows, Jon Snow."
"They killed father," Jon retorted. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Let me handle it!" Robb shouted. He felt his fury rise as he pounded the desk before him. "Gods Jon, you know what happens to deserters as good as anyone. You took your oath, you became a brother of the Night's Watch."
"I couldn't do nothing, I just couldn't." Jon let out a deep sigh. "They killed him, and they have Arya and Sansa now, what am I if I don't do everything I can to protect my family, my real family."
"You're a fool that's what you are, a stupid fool." Robb cursed as he shook his head. "I'm King now Jon, it's expected of me to give a King's justice!"
Robb saw Jon stew for a moment. He knew that Jon meant well, but Robb couldn't think that perhaps he hadn't considered his position as Lord and now King in the North. It was a bloody mess. "Your Grace, I came here-"
"Abandoning your vow's," The blackfish noted.
"Aye, abandoned my vow's so I might give my life to Robb." Jon raised his voice to emphasize the point. "That is all I can give him, and should he decide I'm to be killed for my treason, then so be it. I knew the risk the moment I decided to ride from the wall. I could have been captured a hundred times since then, but the gods allowed me to make it here to stand before my brother, my king."
Robb looked at Jon for a long moment, he was decidedly committed to his decision to be here with him. Robb had missed Jon dearly since he'd left for the wall, and now here he was willing to fight in his war. Robb wondered if he'd have done the same if he were in Jon's position. Robb drummed his fingers against the wood of the desk as he toiled with what to do, he stood there glaring at Jon for a long moment before he'd finally made up his mind. "I'm not going to take your head, and you're no use to anyone rotting in a cell somewhere," Robb declared, Jon seemed to relax a bit at his words. "I'll have you pardoned for your abandonment of the Watch. However, for breaking your oath, you'll be flogged down in the yard for all to see. If that doesn't suit you I can send you back to Lord Commander Mormont."
Jon seemed to tighten his shoulders and back upon the word of his punishment. Robb wanted to pardon him and be done with the matter, but he had to hold the men under his command to a standard. Letting Jon join his army without punishment for breaking his vows would send the wrong message and killing him was something he refused to consider. Sending him back to the watch was also a death sentence, Mormont would have to take his head for leaving the Watch. No, this was the safest course of action he could take.
"I understand. Thank you, Your Grace." Jon bowed. "When shall it take place," Jon asked rather calmly.
"As soon as we're done here." Robb declared. "Best to get this matter done with now." Robb then turned to address Greatjon. "Lord Umber, see my brother to the yard, send one of the guards to gather everyone in the courtyard. Make sure there is a Maester to tend to Jon afterward."
The Greatjon nodded as the strode across the room alongside Jon. "Come with me boy." Jon looked to Robb once more before he was led by the towering Lord Umber out of the room.
Once his half-brother had left them Robb let out a long sigh as he removed the heavy metal crown from his head, setting it on the desk as he slumped into his grandfather's chair. Pressing his hand to his face Robb attempted to rub the stress from his eyes. He felt like it had been an age since he'd called his banners and ridden south, he imagined this is how his father must have felt when he'd gone to war with Robert.
"It's not easy, Your Grace," Brynden stated.
"Did I make the right decision?" Robb asked himself more than his great uncle.
"You don't need the ghost of your father's bastard hanging over your head, and the boy seems loyal, perhaps to a fault if anything. I will say you did the right thing by having him flogged. If he were a Stark it might not have been the best decision, but he's a snow. Some lords will be angry he's not being beheaded, but most will be satisfied with a flogging. No one can say he hasn't paid for breaking his vow's this way." Brynden said. "Now the real question you ought to be asking is who'll be doing said flogging."
"Anyone I suppose." Robb declared.
"No, respectfully, I believe that's the wrong answer, Your Grace," Brynden stated. "If it were some random knight or man at arms I would agree, but this is your father's son we're talking about, your half-brother. It can't be just anyone to give out your justice on him."
Robb knew what the Blackfish was getting at, all the old knight was waiting for was for Robb to verbalize it himself. "The man who passes the sentence," Robb recalled his father's words.
"Exactly. It'll mean more coming from you. Those not satisfied with a flogging will at least have to respect you for carrying it out yourself. It might even be better for Snow in the long run." Ser Brynden reasoned.
Robb nodded, rising from his chair he placed his crown upon his head. "I wish," Robb uttered to himself, though he chose not to finish his sentence. Instead, he walked from the room, as the Blackfish followed him out.
Navigating the castle, Robb found his way down to the courtyard, when he'd come down a small crowd had already gathered. Robb noted several of the lords and ladies in attendance. Lord Karstark, Lord Glover, Lady Mormont, and his uncle Edmure, all watched on as Robb arrived. The Greatjon stood towering next to Jon where a wooden post had been erected.
Every man and women's eyes looked upon him as he presided over them. Clearing his throat Robb projected his voice over them. "I have brought you here, so you might see my justice done. Jon Snow of Winterfell was a sworn brother of the Night's Watch. He took a vow which he broke by abandoning his post to come here in hopes he might help avenge the death of our father." Robb looked upon his brother. "The law states that for his crime of deserting his position as a sworn brother he is to be executed. However, as king, I have decided to use my authority to pardon Jon Snow of his oath, releasing him from his vows to the Watch, but for his intent to break his vows, he must be punished." Robb turned to Brynden Tully who'd already had a whip fetched that was now clutched in his right hand. Nodding to his great uncle, his adviser handed him the instrument of his brother's punishment. "Jon Snow, you shall be given fifteen lashes."
Upon his command, the two men stripped Jon of his shirt and tied him to the post. A leather strip was given to Jon to bite on as Robb walked over to him. Jon Umber offered looked at the whip in Robb's hand and smirked as he stepped back from the two. Robb stood over his half-brother, the whip in hand. He knew his brother would bleed, though the whip he was to use wouldn't leave any permanent scars on him.
"I'm sorry Jon," Robb whispered to his brother before he rose the whip above his head, bringing it down upon his brother's back. The sound of its crack made Robb flinch as Jon let out a cry between his gritted teeth. Part of Robb wanted to stop, but he found himself striking Jon again, and then again and again and again until at last, he'd seen it through. Robb was panting hard as he looked down at Jon's red and bloody back. His brother had gone limp at the post and was letting out low groans of pain.
Robb stepped back from his brother as the Greatjon came over and took the whip from his grasp. Robb swallowed hard before he turned back to those around him. "I seek to be fair, I will give my justice to any, be they lowborn, highborn," Robb looked upon Jon. "Or even my own blood." Turning Robb stomped past Lord Umber, and then commanded the nearest guard to have Jon taken to see the Maester.
Leaving, Robb saw Grey Wind, whistling the direwolf came to his side. Robb retreated to his chamber, he refused to break his fast, he'd not the stomach for it now.