Chapter 2: Jon

The day after the feast Arya found out she had to go with Sansa and Father to Kings Landing. She was furious.

"Why do I have to go and become a little Lady? Why can't I just stay in the North and learn to fight? It's not fair, Sansa is the one that really wants to go!"

I just laughed. I wasn't sure what Sansa wanted, but the fire hair beauty was a mystery to her sister. I let Arya be mad, telling her it would be fun to go on a new adventure but I knew that she just needed to rage for awhile. She knew that she had to go, she was a noble Stark and would follow her duty whether she liked it or not. I went to the blacksmith that day to have a sword made for her. She doesn't have her words to protect her like Sansa so she needs something else.

During the Kings stay I try to be out of the way as much as possible. No one wants to see a bastard walking around. I do see much of Sansa with the Prince, showing him around Winterfell and keeping him entertained. The Prince is a brat, I can see it in the way he struts about, leering at those he deems below him.

Sansa does well keeping his attention though, I can see she is playing the Southern Lady. The Red Wolf of Winterfell knows how to play with the other animals of the forest. This Stag is no exception. She sees me sometimes, and I think she knows what I see. I've gotten more smiles from her since our talk in the Godswood. Though I don't understand her I know she doesn't hate me. Her smiles for me are more beautiful than those for Joffery. I hope she will be safe in the South.

Prince Joffery takes liberties with Sansa. I've seen him touch her fine copper hair and snow kissed cheeks. Rage flares in me every time I see it. He has no right to her. She is so much better than him. I see the way he looks at her, she is doing a wonderful job getting him under her thumb. I hate it.

I need to be alone, no one should know how I feel — I don't even know why I feel this way. I find my way to the Godswood, Ghost as my shadow. I didn't hear her coming up behind me until she spoke my name.

"Jon?"

I whip around, trying to hid my anger in front of Sansa. She is truly of the North, standing there looking like a weirwood come to life with Lady by her side. She has put a grey ribbon on Lady today. That calms me, to think of the care she gives to her wolf.

"Jon," she saids again, "Are you alright?"

I debate telling her. She has never been close to me but she cares, I can see it in he ice blue eyes.

Comprehension dawns on her face, "You don't like Prince Joffery. You don't like how he acts with me, do you?"

I don't ask how she knows this. She has always known the thoughts of others, sometimes before they know themselves. I'm less angry now but it still feels like a fire burning in my gut.

"He is not worthy of you, of any of the Stark children! I hate seeing his leers and watching him prance around the Keep like he owns it!" There, I've said it. The anger is burning away.

Sansa smiles and reaches for my hand. I let her take it, her icy fingers calming me more.

"It is my duty, Jon. I must marry as Father sees fit but I will not be a play thing for Joffery's amusement. I am learning who he is and I can keep him happy and keep myself safe. There is an evil in him but no one can outsmart a wolf on the hunt." She smiles then like steel and silk, I know she will be safe.

"I worry about my pack," I admit, tightening my grip on her hand.

"It will be strong," she assures me, "Here, I have something for you." She pulls out a strap of leather with six direwolves embroidered into it. I stroke them gently. One is pure white. They are the wolves of our pack. "Here," she takes it and ties it onto my wrist. "We may be apart but we will be a pack."

I look into her eyes, she will be strong and I do not worry about her or Arya anymore. I will stay at Winterfell while they are gone and protect the North. I will see her again and I will protect Bran and Rickon while she is gone.