Author's Note:
I do not own Game of Thrones.
As Jon approached sixteen, a fostering offer came for him, from House Umber. Father took him aside into his office to speak about it.
"I didn't expect an offer for you," he said. "But the Greatjon makes some excellent points that since you will be a Lord further north than most, a stay at the Last Hearth could enlightening for you."
Jon looked at his siblings. "Could Sara and Cregan come?"
Father laughed. "Well, I don't suppose the Greatjon could stop them."
Sara laughed. "Of course not. Nothing could stop us."
"We've met the Umbers at feasts," Jon said. "Do you like them?"
Sara shrugged. Of course, Sara liked no one.
"Cregan travelled with the Greatjon when we went to Pyke." Father smiled. "If he wants to go with you as Lordling, I suspect you'll win the Greatjon's heart."
Cregan laughed, lounging back against the wall.
"Did you like him?" Jon asked.
"They're fine," Cregan said.
Jon smiled. "I think I should like to go."