Namedays

by MarigoldRose24

An exploration of Jon's childhood, centred around his Namedays. Rated T just to be safe

2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, followed or favourited my story. I'm touched that you like it. I had written a long reply to one response but I decided to ignore it and move on. This is after all a work of fiction based on a work of fiction, it shouldn't be taken too seriously.

I want to point out a few things though; this is written entirely from Jon's point of view and for most of it he is a child, so it is skewed to his own biases and his limited understanding of the world.

Also before anyone complains about Ned's parenting style not being accurate for a medieval Europe-esk setting , I'd like to point out that Ned does seem remarkably progressive in both the show and the books. His children seem to be fine with showing him their displeasure, he encourages Arya's interest in fighing, and Cat has no issue with acting of her own accord. Also the North seems for less formal than the south, and children do stupid things regardless of status, culture or time period.

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'Mother! Arya is chewing her food with her mouth open!' Seven year old Sansa scowled at her sister from across the breakfast table. Arya stuck out her tongue in response, half chewed bacon in plain sight. Seated to the right of Lord Stark the lady of the house sighed and in a long suffering tone reprimanded Arya once again for her lack of manners. Jon used the bread he was eating to hide a smirk at his sister's antics. Robb and Theon were not as subtle and Lady Stark had to reprimand them as well for encouraging Arya's less than ladylike behavior. Sansa gave her sister a self satisfied smile and Arya glared at her, Jon could tell she was already plotting her revenge.

At the head of the table Lord Stark cleared his throat and the clatter of forks and knives ceased as the children looked up from their meals. 'I've an announcement to make, I have business to attend to in White Harbour and will be leaving within a fortnight, I except to be gone for about 2 moons.' Jon schooled his face to calmness, as Robb's tenth Nameday had just passed Jon's was a little over a moon away, He reasoned with himself that Nameday's really don't matter especially for a bastard, still Nameday's were far more pleasant if his father was around, he could still clearly recall the last one his father had missed. 'Robb, you will accompany me.' His father continued. Wonderful, Jon thought bitterly, not only was his father not going to be here but Robb would be gone as well, if he had to spend his Nameday with Theon he might just throw himself from the ramparts and be done with it. 'Jon, you'll come as well.' Jon stared at him for a moment before he remembered to show some form of acknowledgement and mumbled something along the lines of "yes father" while Robb grinned wildly. Jon couldn't help but feel slightly confused, he rarely ever got to go anywhere, He'd accompanied his father to DeepWood Mott once shortly after Bran had been born but that was mostly because Lady Catelyn had been struggling with the new babe and she had raised hells about having to look after him too with Ned gone, as if she had anything to do with him whether his father was there or not.

Across from him Arya was scowling again, a look of determination in her dark grey eyes that usually spelled trouble. 'Can I come too Father? Please?'

'Arya - ' Lady Stark began

'Can she?' Sansa interrupted, a hopeful edge to her voice.

Lord Stark, leaned back in his chair and contemplated his youngest daughter, despite his age of one and thirty, grey had begun to creep through his beard, Jon imagined Arya had been the cause of most of it, at five she was already a force of nature, Wolf Blood his father called it, whatever it was Arya had it in spades. 'Do you promise to behave yourself and be on your best behaviour? We will be travelling for over a week and it's no place to go off on your own, you will have to listen to me and the guards and your brothers.'

'I will father, I promise, I'll be good and I'll listen.'

Lord Stark sighed and looked at his wife who shrugged her shoulders in response to his silent question. 'Fine Arya, you may come - '

'Yay!'

' - if you stay out of trouble between now and then, that means not doing whatever it is you were planning to do to your sister for telling on you a few minutes ago.' Ned finished, Arya had the sense to look at least slightly abashed, but she reluctantly agreed. 'Now that that's settled and everyone appears to be done their meals, off you go, lessons and chores are waiting.' There was the usual scuffle of chairs against flagstone as the older children left, the boys off to training in the yard and the girls off to sewing lessons, something Sansa loved and Arya loathed. Jon reached out to mess up Arya's hair just as they went to go their separate ways and she turned to give him a playful grin before slipping out of his reach, Jon smiled back before running off to catch up with Robb who was waiting for him just outside the castle.

You'll get to spend your nameday in White Harbour.' Robb grinned. 'There's lots to see there, you'll love it.' Robb had, of course, been there before with Father, as heir Jon knew his brother had to get to know the North and his future Banner men but being left behind time and time again was difficult, Robb and Jon were so close in age that they had felt more like twins when they were younger but the older they got the more obvious the differences became. Robb was being groomed to lead, he had private lessons with father a few times a week and he was now expected to be present when Father held audience with small folk and vassal lords alike, Jon on the other hand hardly ever saw father outside of family meals and when he came to watch them practice and he was expected to make himself scarce when people came to call. He tried not to let the growing differences sour his relationship with Robb, but sometimes it was hard especially after the incident a few moons back.

'Aye, Im sure I will.' He replied as they came up to Ser Rodrik, who stood outside the armory with a bow in each hand. Theon had already grabbed his and was busy practicing, an arrow proudly protruding from the bullseye on his target. Jon and Robb both groaned as they took the offered weapons and Ser Rodrik smirked, Archery was not a favourite of either boy.

'Come now lads, it does no good to only focus on your strengths, I'll make marksmen of you both yet.' he clapped them on the shoulders as he walked passed and took up position off to the side, Theon's side, Jon noticed, the Ironborn boy having taken the far left target, not that Jon could blame the old Master at Arms, It was a lot safer to stand near Theon while they were shooting, last time one of Robb's arrows had gone wild and hit a rack of lamb curing outside the kitchens. Theon had nearly pissed himself laughing over it.

Robb nocked an arrow, drew back and took aim, it hit the very edge of the target and Robb scowled, kicking his boot into the dirt. Jon followed suit but his went over the target completely and landed by outer wall of the tiltyard. Ser Rodrik shouted out for them to try again and they reluctantly obeyed. By the time the old knight called an end to practice, both Robb and Jon had managed to hit the target a few times though no where near the bullseye, Theon's target was beginning to look like a porcupine and his usual smug smile had even more of a cocky edge then it usually did. There was no doubt that Theon was better with a bow, he was also five and ten, nearly a man grown so it stood to reason that he was better, but Theon never let that fact stop him from gloating when he bested the younger boys.

As they collected their arrows and returned everything to the armory and grabbed their practice swords Jon's mind wondered to his fathers unexpected announcement, it was true as Robb had said, that they should be in White Harbour by his Nameday which meant that he would helpfully get to spend the day with the brother and sister he loved the most, and with father, without those in Winterfell who deliberately made things difficult for him. That in and of itself was a more perfect present than any Jon had ever received.

Two days later Lord Stark called for Jon to meet him in the stables, it was an unusual summons as Jon rarely spent time with his father alone. When he arrived his father was grooming a coal black palfrey with a white diamond marking above its eyes, the horse appeared to be new to the stables as Jon was unfamiliar with it, and he spent enough time in the stables to know all the horses.

'Ah, there you are.' his father greeted. 'Hodor, please get the new tack I had made.' Jon turned slightly, he hadn't noticed the giant man who tended the horses but he was there at the end of the stalls.

'Hello Hodor.'

Hodor grinned 'Hodor' He replied by way of greeting and then he turned to Lord Stark 'Hodor' he acknowledged and went off in search of the tack.

'what do you think of him?' Father asked, gesturing to the stallion.

'He's beautiful.' Jon replied, it was true, the horse had obviously been well bred.

Lord Stark nodded in agreement 'He was supposed to be for your Nameday but since we are to be gone by then, it seemed only right to give him to you now.'

Jon wasn't entirely sure he'd heard right at first, it was true, he'd been riding horses instead of ponies for a while now but he had not been expecting his own, Robb had been gifted with one from his grandfather the year before but Jon had always rode one of the horses that belonged to the castle in general. 'Th- thank you Father, I – he's wonderful.' Jon stammered, He tentatively reached out to rub the horses snout, he wondered what the appropriate response to a gift like this was, should be hug his father? He wasn't good at showing emotions and he had rarely been presented with anything like this, he didn't want his father to think him ungrateful, it had also been a long time he realized, since he and his father had hugged, The Lord had always been more reserved with him than with his trueborn children and over the last few years a sort of respectful distance had developed between them.

'Jon' Jon startled slightly as Lord Stark laid a hand on his shoulder and had bent down slightly to be at eye level with him, Jon had been staring at the horse without really seeing anything and he hadn't noticed his father move. 'I understand that you certainly weren't expecting something like this. It's alright, I'm sure you will take good care of him.'

'I will Father! I promise.'

'Good' Ned smiled. He stood back up and turned just as Hodor reappeared with the tack, Jon stood back as Hodor and his father readied the horse, he had the strangest feeling then, that he had missed an opportunity, if he had reached out and hugged his father maybe... he wasn't sure what, really, but the moment had passed and that distance was back again.

Jon spent the week before they left riding Onyx, as he had called the horse, as much as he could, he wanted to be well acquainted with him before he had to ride him down the kingsroad. The coal black mount proved well trained however and easy to control and when the day came to finally set out to White Harbour Jon had to admit that he was as excited as Robb, maybe not quite as excited as Arya but it was hard to meet the enthusiasm of a five year old, She was bouncing around in her saddle in a way that both boys considered to be far too undignified for the mature age of ten (or nearly ten in Jon's case), They were to make the short trip from Winterfell to Castle Cerwyn and send two days there while Father conferred with Lord Medger about taxes, and grain supplies, then they were follow the White Knife to White Harbour where they would stay at New Castle with the Manderly's.

They set out mid morning with a half dozen household guards and a cart of supplies, Jon and Robb amused themselves by racing each other from one landmark to the next, never too far from the others but enough that they imagined they were on their own in the wilderness. Arya had grown cross with them by the time Lord Stark called everyone to stop for a small break about half way to Castle Cerwyn. Father had forbidden her to race with the boys and her pony would have been useless anyway, she thought it highly unfair that she had been left with father and the guards while they had fun and she threatened to put a worn in Robb's waterskin if they didn't include her.

'How come I get threatened with a worm but Jon doesn't?' Robb asked her as they sat in the grass, in a clearing just off the road, eating hard cheese and bread.

'Because he's my favourite brother.' Arya replied with her usual unashamed bluntness.

Robb feigned being hurt and Arya stuck out her tongue at him, inwardly Jon warmed at the words, he loved all his siblings dearly, even Sansa, who had decided as soon as she realized what Bastard meant to keep Jon at arms length, but his bond with Arya was different than it was even with Robb. Robb was his best friend, but Arya understood, even at five what it was like not to fit in, she was already chaffing against the role she had to play as a girl while Jon likewise struggled against his role as a bastard. As he watched her make faces at Robb he got the impression that she would be more successful in her battle than he would be in his.

'You can ride with me.' Jon offered when Arya turned her attention back to her food. 'I doubt your weight will make any difference.'

Arya grinned at Robb 'Favourite brother.' She said again, pointing at Jon. Robb just rolled his eyes.

When they set out again father lifted Arya up to sit with Jon while one of the guards took the reins of her pony to be led along, Jon was right and Arya's little weight had made no difference to Onyx, and the two won the first race against Robb, Arya's laughter ringing clear across the meadow as they waited by the boulder they'd choosen as the finish line, for their brother to join them. It wasn't until Jon had lost two in a row that Arya decided to switch teams, dangerously scrambling to climb from one horse to the other, as Robb smirked and Jon muttered Traitor to her. She came back to Jon when Robb's fortunes changed. Both boys were more than a little relieved when Ned called an end to their game for fear of tiring out the horses and took Arya on his own mount for the last leg of the journey.

Castle Cerwyn came into view just as the sun was starting to wane. 'Thank the gods.' Robb muttered 'I think my arse must be blood red.'

'And how do you think you're going to feel when we get to White Harbour, Hum?' Father asked, Robb blushed, he obviously hadn't meant to be overheard. Both boys had been riding since they were old enough to sit astride a saddle on a pony, but they had rarely ridden for longer than an hour or two at a time, Jon couldn't say that he felt any better than Robb did but he wasn't going to admit that now.

Lord Cerwyn held a small feast that evening in honour of Lord Stark's visit, both Jon and Robb found themselves sitting with Medgar's son Cley, while Arya sat with their father, it was unconventional, generally Arya would have been sitting with other young ladies, but Father seemed to think it wise to keep her within arms reach.

Being only half a days ride from Winterfell the Cerwyn's were often guests of the Starks and so the boys knew Cley well enough, he had always been friendly with Jon despite the differences in status and had confessed the last time he had visited Winterfell that he was terribly jealous of Robb for having a built in playmate his own age. Lord Cerwyn and his wife had only managed to produce two children in the 30 years of their marriage, the eldest, Jonelle was already five and twenty, and thus more like an aunt than a sister. Cley had the children of stewards and other important household staff to play with but according to him it wasn't the same.

They spent their meal talking about hunting and horses and the ride up that day, and complaining about lessons about sums and history, Cley couldn't wait for the following afternoon, he wanted to show Robb and Jon all his favourite places.

'The morning of course we'll have to sit in with our fathers as they go over taxes.' Cley crumpled up his nose in disgust. 'You're lucky you don't have to go Jon, I hate learning about being a Lord, last harvest I sent four whole days learning all about inventors and how much grain the average person eats. Father says because he had me so late he has to make me learn earlier just in case.'

'I wonder how much extra grain Lord Manderly eats.' Robb pondered and Cley snickered, Lord Manderly was well known for his size and he seemed to get bigger every time he made the journey to Winterfell, it was said he could barely sit a horse these days. Jon gave Robb a reassuring smile when he looked his way, the comment about Jon not going to the meeting tomorrow had obviously not slipped passed his brother but Jon was trying to be alright with it. He had known that his father would have to meet with Lord Cerwyn but he had hoped Robb wouldn't have to join, still he was in a different place and he was going to make the most of it.

The next day dawned bright and cool, when they broke their fast Robb tried in vain to worm his way out of accompanying his father but Lord Stark was having none of it. Arya was sent off with some of the castle's young girls for the morning, something she seemed as thrilled about as Robb was, and so after assuring his father that he wouldn't get into any trouble Jon was left on his own. It turned out there wasn't much to do at Castle Cerwyn, not compared to Winterfell anyway, Jon wandered through the courtyards and the tiltyards, he visited the stables to check on Onyx and even explored the library and roamed the godswood. By mid morning he was thoroughly and completely bored. As he found his way back to the main courtyard he discovered that the castle gates were open and a sort of market had been set up by the walls outside, there were several small settlements and farms nearby and Jon assumed they must come here to sell their goods, if anything it gave him something to do. He wandered through the stalls of produce, furs and metalworks, many of the sellers had children with them, most likely teaching them the skills they'd need to carry on family trades. It made Jon think about Robb and Cley, they were being trained as well, everyones path seemed as though it had been laid out for them, the farmers would pass the land down to their children, teaching them to till it and harvest its yield, blacksmiths and hunters, fisherman, lords, they all passed their positions and skills down to sons who would one day take their places, Jon had no place to take. It was a thought that occurred to him more and more often as he grew. His father insisted that he learn all he things generally reserved for lords: numbers, letters, history, governance, strategy but Jon failed to understand what good any of it was going to do him, at most he would end up a soldier, not a commander for whom an understanding of military strategy may be the difference between victory and defeat but a relatively low ranking foot soldier in an army of thousands, assuming he saw war in his life time. If the peace continued then even his skill with a sword wasn't going to amount to much.

Sometimes Robb talked about the future, in those pictures he painted as they lay awake at night, Jon was always by his side, the master at arms, Robb's sworn sword, the captain of the guard or such but the vision always made Jon feel uncomfortable. It wasn't just the idea of playing second fiddle to his brother, no he was used to that, it was the idea that everything he may one day achieve would only be so because his brother gave it to him, like a pet Robb plied with food to keep it around.

It was a dark and depressing thought, and he was so wrapped up in his own musings that he failed to notice the group of boys until he had passed them and they had called out to him several times. When it finally filtered through he turned back to look at them, they were roughly his age, small folk by the look of their clothes, there were six of them and the one in front who Jon assumed was the groups leader had a mean weaselly look to him.

'We was talking to you.' He said. 'We asked where you was headed to.'

Jon looked around him, like he expected there to be someone else behind him that they were talking to, why did they care what he was doing? 'Sorry, I was thinking, I didn't hear you. I'm not going anywhere in particular, just wandering.'

'I ain't never seen you round here before.' One of the other boys spoke up, Jon still couldn't understand why any of it mattered, but he got the feeling the weaselly boy wasn't looking to make friends, he was eyeing Jon like he might make some fine entertainment and Jon certainly wasn't in the mood to entertain, he also had no desire to explain who he was, saying he was Lord Stark's son, even his bastard son would certainly get them to go away but just now the idea didn't sit well with him.

'I'm not from here, we're just passing through.'

'Passing through from where? This here spot is mine.' The ring leader told him. Jon stared at him for a moment before he looked around again, he had wandered a bit from the little market and was on a trail near the woods that ringed Castle Cerwyn, what was the boy talking about? The woods? The trail? The giant boulder just behind their group?

'Hey Derric.' One of the other boys spoke up, 'I think you should leave him be, I think he's a lord.'

The leader, Derric apparently, gave Jon a once over, apparently Jon came up lacking. 'He ain't no lord, what's a lord be doing out here by 'imself?' He looked at the other boy like he was an idiot. 'if he was a lord he'd have a guard or something. 'ave you ever seen little Cley Cerwyn out 'ere by 'imself?'

'I'm just sayin', look at his boots.' The other boy continued. His boots? What did his boots have to do with anything?

Apparently Jon wasn't the only one who didn't understand because Derric's next comment was: 'Why do I care about 'is boots, Mika?'

Mika rolled his eyes ' My Da's a cobbler in't he? I'm telling you those boots are worth more gold than you've ever seen.'

'So he's got money, don't make him no lord.' He turned to look at Jon, a glint in his eyes. 'So are you a Lord?'

'No.' Jon answered, he was quickly losing his patience with this conversation.

'what are you then?'

Jon faltered, Lord Stark's first rule for his children was not to lie, it was the one thing he demanded of them above all else, but he still didn't want to say he was the bastard son of the Warden of the North, he had a sneaking suspicion Derric wouldn't believe him anyway.

'Well? What are you?' That glint in Derric's eyes was getting brighter it seemed, Derric had found his entertainment and the other boys were watching with expressions that ranged from worried to excited. 'He don't even know what he is! A rich halfwit! That's what he is!' Some of the boys snickered.

'I'm Lord Stark's son.' He snapped back, he regretted it the minute it left his mouth. Derric tilted his head to the side as he studied him. 'We're visiting from Winterfell.' He added lamely.

'And my granny is an Other.' Derric mocked.

The boy who had spoken earlier, the cobbler's son Mika seemed more thoughtful about the matter. 'Lord Stark has a Bastard, they say he treats him just like his other children.'

'Nah, he ain't no Lord's son, he's just a halfwit with some gold, you got any gold on you halfwit? I'd like some gold.'

'Derric!' Mika hissed, he seemed to have more sense than the rest of them, and he didn't seem to like where this was going, Derric had started walking closer to Jon as he spoke, some of the others advanced too. Jon could run, it wasn't all that far back to the stalls and the grown-ups but that would make him a coward, Bastard he may be but he was no coward, besides he knew how to fight.

'Well?' Derric prompted again, he was now close enough to Jon that he could have reached out and touched him. Up close Jon could see an X shaped scar under his right eye, probably from a fight, his hair was unevenly cut and his clothes were shabby, the cuffs frayed and patched. The boy Mika was right, Jon's boots were probably worth more than this boy had ever seen or would ever see. He had the grace to feel at least a little bad about all the time he'd spent this morning dwelling on his own problems, he knew he had it better than most, he also knew if he didn't do something he was likely going to have to explain to his father how he lost his boots.

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see some of the other boys starting to circle around him, closing him in in case he did decide to run for it. But he kept his eyes on Derric, he doubted the boy was the type to let anyone else do his fighting for him, if a punch was going to come, it would come from him. 'I asked you a question. You got any gold on you halfwit?' he tilted his head again, studying him. 'Or is it Bastard?'

Lord Stark's face looked pinched, like he'd sucked on one of the lemons Sansa loved so much. Jon wished he'd stop looking at him all together. He was sitting in the musty room that belonged to the Cerwyn's Maester, a porky man, at least twenty years Luwin's junior. He had one hand soaking in some sort of cold thick liquid, whatever it was it did take the sting out of his knuckles, the Maester was currently dabbing at the cut that split Jon's lip and debating whether or not he needed stitches.

'You did promise me this morning that you were not going to get into any trouble.' To say his father had not been pleased when Jon showed up with a black eye, a split lip and a hand full of busted knuckles was an understatement, Jon hadn't seen him so tense since the time Theon had stolen a flagon of wine and proceeded to get piss loaded drunk and then vomited all over the floor during the evening meal. At the time Robb and Jon had thought the entire incident had been spectacular, including the yelling Lord Stark had done after the fact. He'd much rather Theon be on the receiving end of Father's current expression.

'I didn't go looking for trouble.' Jon snapped back, he realized again, as soon has the words left his mouth that he'd said the wrong thing, or at least used the wrong tone. Lord Stark's expression became even more agitated.

I- I'm sorry father, I didn't mean to snap, I just di-didn't think. I didn't mean for this to happen, there were a group of them and I couldn't get away.'

Ned sighed, some of the tension seeming to leave his face. 'Jon - ' He began, He placed a hand on Jon's shoulder and leaned down to look at him, he sighed in exasperation 'God's Jon, you're a mess.'

'Crofter's boy.' Medgar Cerwyn said from where he'd appeared in the doorway. 'lives in the nearest hamlet, I can have my men go and collect him.'

Lord Stark continued to examine Jon's face, Jon hadn't seen the damage himself but if his father's expression was any indication it must have been bad. Finally he sighed again and stood up, he turned half way to look at Lord Cerwyn. 'That won't be necessary Medgar, children get into fights from time to time.'

'Still, he hit the son of the warden of the North.' Lord Cerwyn pointed out.

Bastard son, Jon thought, if anyone had dared punch Robb it would be an entirely different conversation.

'And from the condition of my son's hand, I'd say he did his fair share of hitting too. No, let the boys father deal with him, as I will deal with mine.' Lord Stark's tone left little room for argument and the older Lord nodded and disappeared from the doorway.

Jon winced as his father turned back to him. The Maester declared that Jon's lip would heal fine on it's own and headed off to the back of the room to prepare a salve for Jon's eye. Jon really wished the Maester had stayed closer, usually he would have jumped at the opportunity to be alone with his father, but right now he felt more fear than he had when he faced those six boys.

'Who threw the first punch?'

Jon took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. Ned sighed again, his boots disappeared from Jon's line of sight for a moment, then he returned with a chair, he sat down, close enough that his knees nearly touched Jon's and braced his forearms on his legs so he was face to face with him.

'I suppose I don't need to ask what was said that made you react like that.' Ned's tone was gentle, understanding even. 'There were six of them and one of you, you're children yes, but they still could have killed you.'

'I didn't - '

'No, I know you didn't think. That's how most fights start, but Jon, if you're going to start a fight every time someone calls you a bastard you will spent your entire life fighting.'

Jon turned his face away, he shut his eyes tight against the tears that threatened to fall, the pain that radiated from the bruise only made it harder to control but he hadn't cried in front of anyone in years, and he wasn't going to start now. 'Are you going to send me back to Winterfell?' He asked. He probably deserved it, though the thought upset him greatly.

'I did consider it but no, you'll continue with us to White Harbour.'

Jon felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, he hadn't realize how tense he had become. The thought of going back to Winterfell while Arya and Robb went on without him was mortifying, the fact that Lady Stark would be made aware of why he was sent back was even worse.

'Thank you Father.'

'Don't thank me yet, you will tend to all of the horses when we stop in the evenings both to White Harbour and on the way back. I will allow you a reprieve while we are in White Harbour as long as you avoid any more trouble between here and there.' Jon nodded in agreement. Anything was better than getting sent home.

'And you will apologize to the crofter's boy, Derron was it?'

Jon's head whipped up at that, Apologize? He had to apologize to that boy? It wasn't as though Jon had started the fight, he hadn't been looking for trouble. 'Derric, and do I have to?'

Lord Stark's expression said it all.

And so that afternoon, while Robb and Arya explored Castle Cerwyn with Cley, Jon, Lord Stark and one of Lord Cerwyn's men rode through the little Hamlet just south of the keep until they came to a small farm on it's outskirts. The house on the land was a small stone structure with a thatched roof, there was a pen nearby where a few hens pecked the ground and a well in need of some repair. Jon and the men got down from their horses as a man who looked slightly older then Lord Stark appeared from a field of wheat with a trowel in one hand, Jon could tell this was Derric's father, though he didn't look quite as mean as his son he did share the same resemblance to a weasel.

'Can I help you Milord?' He asked as soon as he was close enough to be heard.

Lord Stark came closer to Jon and laid a hand on his shoulder, a protective gesture, one of ownership that Jon would have found truly touching under different circumstances. 'It seems my son had an altercation with your boy this morning.'

'If you mean they beat the shit out of each other, Aye they did.' The man replied. 'Had I known it was a Lord he hit I'd have whipped him good first thing.' Jon looked up at his father, a muscle twitched in his jaw. Jon knew whippings were common enough punishment for many things, including disciplining children, but Lord Stark had never subscribed to it, in fact none of the Stark children, Jon included had ever been hit or lashed in anyway (save the training yard but that didn't count), perhaps if his father had considered this he wouldn't have made Jon come down here.

'That won't be necessary on my account. And my son is not a Lord. However as part of his punishment he is here to apologize for his actions.' His father clarified. Jon could see that the man was caught completely off guard but he caught himself and walked to the house, stuck his head in the door and called out to his son.

'For what it's worth it's hardly the first time Derric's been in a fight, he makes a habit o' crossin' people.' The boy's father explained. He stood there almost nervously as he waited for his son. Jon knew that this must seem completely strange to the man, who may never had an occasion to speak with a lord before today, who may have even avoided such a thing. Doubtless the man hadn't realized he was talking to the Warden of the North, he's father was wearing no sigil today, if he had he would have been even more flustered.

Jon took a moment to take in their surroundings, it was a tiny house, on a small lot of land, from Jon's studies he understood that the man and his family all probably worked this land, harvesting enough to feed themselves and selling or bartering anything they were lucky enough to have left over. It was a world apart from the life Jon was used to, and yet in someways he had more in common with these people then he did with his family, not that Derric or his friends would ever believe that, they only saw a rich Lord.

It felt like a mercy when Derric finally appeared, Jon really just wanted to get this over with. It was clear as he came up to stand by his father that Jon had broken his nose, it was also clear that Derric wasn't dense enough to overlook Lord Stark for what he was. Colour drained from his face and he quickly looked down at the ground.

Jon bit at the scab on his lip and was rewarded with the metallic tang of blood. He could feel Lord Stark watching him. Jon cleared his throat. 'I've come to apologize for my behaviour this morning. It was wrong of me to attack you.' There, done. Could they leave now?

Derric raised his head and looked at him as though he'd grown a set of antlers. 'It w-was my fault, milord, I was lookin' for a bit of fun. I never would have started up had I known you was telling the truth.'

'Perhaps it would be best if you refrained from starting fights at all?' Lord Stark suggested calmly beside Jon.

Derric's head whipped toward Ned, if Jon had thought he looked scared before now he look downright petrified, it would have been funny if Jon didn't feel so lousy about the whole thing. 'Yes, milord Stark, I-I won't ever, I mean I'll be good, I mean I'm sorry I caused trouble. I - ' The words tumbled over themselves in a rush until Lord Stark rose a hand to still the boy. Beside him his father had turned white as the summer snows.

'That's quite enough, now I think you've both learned your lessons. I thank you Sir for allowing us to speak with your son.'

'I – Milord Stark, I don't know what to say, I am sorry for the trouble the boy caused, I hope that all is forgiven.'

'It is, Children fight, the gods know, it seems in our nature, but hopefully they can learn to make amends when it is needed.'

The man only nodded, too dumbfounded to speak. Ned made his way back to his horse and Jon followed with relief, he felt miserable, embarrassing didn't quite begin to cover this day and his head throbbed, he hoped he could rest for awhile when he got back to Castle Cerwyn.

He took one last look at the little cottage as they turned their horses away, he wondered briefly if this is what his future looked like, would he end up tilling the land hoping for enough to feed his family? Would he ever even have a family? Sometimes when Uncle Benjen came down from the wall, he and Lord Stark would lock themselves in father's solar and talk about their plans to repopulate the Gift, the land the Starks had given to the Night's Watch generations ago. Father wanted to raise up new lords to hold land there, command soldiers to protect the North from the Wildlings that found their way south in ever increasing numbers. Jon held a secret hope that he would be allowed to hold land in his fathers name, perhaps then he would be able to find a wife, maybe from one of the lesser noble houses or from a house with enough children that they couldn't be particular about illegitimacy, then mayhaps he could have a real family, something of his own. But it was just wishful thinking. Father said it wouldn't do to attempt it yet, they had to wait until the next winter was over and summer didn't seem like it was interested in ending anytime soon. Jon would be a man long grown before that day came and he knew with certainty that his days in Winterfell were numbered.