Thank you to everyone who has favourited or is following the story.
Guest: For now, Melisandre finds him interesting (since Theon declared he had met the Drowned God). And Stannis will have his own plans with him.
Only words
When Catelyn sends for Jon, she does not expect him to appear in her solar's door so quickly. Winterfell is in a fever of preparation since news arrived about the ironborn raiding the Rills and the Stony Shore. Robb has just returned home, but he has to leave again. And Jon goes with him, without any command or request, as always.
"Come in," Catelyn invites him. Obviously, he thinks she would like to speak about the supplies or the horses, perhaps the time of their departure. They have exchanged only a few words recently – politely, keeping their distance.
"I want to show you something."
Two things, actually. There are in her hands.
One of them is a parchment. A royal decree.
It was brought not by a raven but a messenger and came three days after Jon and Robb's arrival.
"As duty demands, I already informed Robb about what it says."
The other one is the coat of arms she embroidered weeks ago. Though she added an inscription to it since then: House Stark of Moat Cailin.
Robb agreed with her when Catelyn told him.
Westeros is at war now and Moat Cailin can be the key of defending the North. Though it must be repaired and strengthened as soon as possible.
Catelyn gives both items to Jon.
He pales and his hand quivers. He stares at them as if he were enchanted. He looks at Catelyn then, in the same way.
"I…" Jon tries with words and fails.
So he does something what he did very rarely even in his childhood, and only when Catelyn made the first move, as if giving him permission. He embraces her and she feels heated tears on her skin. But when Jon steps back, his face is already dry, just his eyes shine more than usually.
Catelyn does not know what to say. Maybe she is supposed to explain it to him… But for that, she would need words.
In the silence, Jon suddenly kneels before her.
"To Winterfell I pledge the faith of Moat Cailin. Hearth and heart and harvest I yield up to you, my lady. My sword and spear and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to weak, help to helpless, and justice to all, and I shall never fail you. I swear it by earth and water. I swear it by bronze and iron. I swear it by ice and fire."*
Finally, Catelyn finds her voice. She clears her throat.
"I accept your oath. Rise, Jon Stark."
He stands up with a light, blissful smile on his face.
"You should have said these words to Robb," Catelyn notes.
"I wanted to say them to you. But, of course, I will tell Robb them as well."
Those words. They sounded familiar. Like an old – very old – half-forgotten memory.
"Jon."
He stops at the door and turns to her.
"Where did that oath come from?" It seemed learnt not something he thought up in the moment.
"Maester Luwin's lessons. The crannogmen swore fealty to the Starks with that oath. It's as ancient as the North."
This should be it. Surely, she heard it from one of the children when they got to know the North's history.
Catelyn nods, letting him go.
* A Clash of Kings, Chapter 21 (with some small changes)
