Jon's POV

The room was dark. No candles were lit, I could not see my hands before my face, darker than the nights of winter. I had to get use to the black. I would be surrounded by it, from my clothes, to the sky-the sky blacker than nights at winterfell, blacker than my own hair. I would be nearly invisible at castle black. Something I might learn to love. Not to be seen as a bastard from house Stark by Lady Caitlyn, just Jon Snow, on the wall to protect my family.

My hand reaches out to the stone walls next to my head. I expected the cold to bite my finger tips, almost like touching ice. I'll be surrounded by snow, behind a giant-built ice wall they say. This, the cold, I would also have to get use to.

The day had been an eventful one, one to think about in the dark. A deserter from castle black had wandered into winterfell lands. Ned Stark, my father and lord of the house, was sent to deal with the man. A man that would have been my brother on the wall had he stayed at his post. It wasn't what I'd been thinking about though as the blade passed through bone and flesh of his neck. I was thinking about Bran. How after this he would be a man, the same way Robb and I had to become one. To see what it is to be a Lord. How it is to not always make your own choices, but to be bound by law to carry out your duties. It had only been minutes before that that we had been jesting him about his bow arm, or lack thereof, Robb and I.

'Don't look away, father will know if you do.' I told my younger brother of only ten years old. At such an age he shouldn't see a man's head fall from his shoulders, but we were all ten once. He hadn't asked how I knew how father would know if he didn't look and I had no interest in telling him. I knew because I had looked away my first time. A thief had taken from the Stark kitchen to feed his family, all he wanted was to stop seeing his children going hungry, and he met the blade for it. I didn't understand then, with my older brother Robb who stood firm and focused on the soon to be dead man, but my father was a true lord. Everyone has a role to play to uphold the law, whether or not the man deserves death for his crime was not for a bastard like me to decide. And even as a legitimate son of Eddard Stark, it wasn't for my brother, a young boy of ten, to decide either, but he must understand it as we all come to do.

The dead elk was lying on the ground, mutilated with its intestines out. The beginning to a mystery solved meters away when a nest of direwolves were found next to their dead mother. Direwolves, a sight they were. An animal, the signal of house Stark, thought to be extinct for thousands of years like the white walkers the deserter had blamed for breaking his oath to the Night's Watch. If direwolves could still be here after they were thought to be gone, couldn't the white walkers do the same?

When father had insisted a quick death for them the look of sadness on Bran's face, a boy seconds ago witnessing a man's head fall from his shoulders, whined like the child that he still was for them. Robb and I knew without even a glance that the right thing to do was to keep them alive. If nothing else they were the sigils of the Stark house, their house. They belonged to them. And I couldn't bare the sight of Brans pain from losing them when he's already grown so attached much like children do. One last shred of innocence for him wouldn't hurt. After today, he won't get very many glimpses of it ever again. It will slip through his fingers and none of us ever even knew it. Until it was too late.

"Lord Stark, there are five pups, one for each of the stark children." I had said on my feet. It must be a sign from the Gods for the Stark children to have them. Surely even father wouldn't deny it.

When Bran had asked about my direwolf and why I didn't have one it didn't occur to me to lie to him. I had said the truth, the words their own mother had said to them and I many times, "I'm not a Stark."

But as we began to leave the dead mother behind by the river the faintest sound of a whining pup was heard and by the Gods there was another one. As white as my name and small, sure to die the quickest. When Theon had suggested he be mine, as if I even deserved something that belongs to a trueborn Stark I was sure everyone would object. The Gods had meant for these to belong to the legitimate sons and daughters of house Stark, not a bastard like me. But no one objected. So I named him Ghost. If he hadn't whined he surely would have become one.

When we had returned to Winterfell a raven had come to tell about arrivals. Father told me in three days we were to ride out and meet them. There hasn't been much else he'd said. They had all rushed to the great hall to discuss matters. All we knew was that it was important. Robb and I were to be at the bottom of the hill tomorrow. Rarely are we escorts to guests. They always had their own and the least we do is greet them at the gate. Usually I am not part of the greetings as Lady Caitlyn doesn't always allow it.

"Who do you think it is?" Robb asked as we practiced our swords in the training yard.

He'd distracted me enough, taking aim for my side before I managed to catch his blade with my own. Dull blades were still blades, I would have been sure to get a bruise to cover half my ribs if he'd succeeded. His impressed smile wasn't enough to distract me this time.

"Must be someone important if they're making us shave to meet them."

"We only cut our beards for the King." His eyes widened and his face sat frozen in a goofy grin. He was distracted.

It was my chance to win this spare for once, and I took it. My blade swung with half the strength I would put into a real fight as not to hurt my brother as I let it fall to meet his left leg. Wind left him as he fell to the ground and a laugh followed after. I was almost panicked before he'd done that, I thought I'd hurt him. I would have felt guilty for weeks. And knowing my brother he was sure to hold it over my head.

"You fight dirty Jon. I thought you were a man of honor." My brother laughs as he pushes back his red curls.

"I have more honor in the tip of my blade than you do in your whole body, brother." I reply.

With that I hold out my hand for Robb to take. He smiles gladly and takes it.

It was always nice, spending time with my brother. I loved all of my siblings, but Robb and I were the closest in age and he treated me as an equal, not a bastard. Something I never thanked him for. I would be sure to before I left to pledge my life to the black.

"It must be King Baratheon. But we ride out to meet guests tomorrow. We don't shave for two more days. That mustn't be who were escorting. "

He was right, if it were, I wouldn't be going. I was only a bastard. It would be an embarrassment to father to meet the King with his bastard at his side.

"No sense guessing on it. We'll find out soon enough." I say as we walked back into the castle and readied for bed.

My fingers fell from the stone wall onto my chest. I always found it hard to sleep when it came time to. My mind didn't have a bedtime, it was fine with keeping me up all night to make me useless in the morning. I was exhausted. Every limp hurt and every breath wheezed from my throat but my eyes wouldn't close.

Who would we meet tomorrow? And why was it a secret? Did they forget to sign the note? Whatever the reason, it brought unnecessary worry for me. I don't know how Robb feels about it, sure to be as confident as ever, but I didn't like marching outside the gates to meet people I didn't know. I wasn't afraid, mostly just curious, but I had this feeling, like something was going to happen. Something big that I wouldn't know even if I saw it. Something waiting in that field and I didn't know whether to welcome it or to fear it.