JON

I

Jon Snow rode ahead of his Lord Father's company.

It seemed to be less cold now during the midday; and a lazy half blanketed sun hung in the sky.

There was a beauty to the surroundings. A quiet calmness to the light snow on the ground.

Jon felt a tinge of contented happiness.

Despite that, Jon could still see the mist that curled from between his lips with each breath- a coldness that instinctively made Jon glance to his true born kin.

Theon and Robb rode some paces ahead. Bran was directly next to Jon, intently directing his pony so as not to fall out of rhythm with a distant brother.

Their horses marched over frosted grass, hands of winter poking the land.

Jon frowned, distracted from beauty that would typically calm racing thoughts.

Gared's last words-

Winter is coming.

Had Gared meant it as a final jape? Or did he hold some sort of delusional, terrified truth?

The Phaecaigh..

Beings that belonged in children's fairy tales-

Not the last words of a man who no longer held reason to lie.

It was the way that man's eyes shone . . . the fear in his voice . . . there was truth to it.

"I could never join the Watch," Theon interjected suddenly, now speaking loud enough for Jon and Bran to hear-

as Robb slowed his horse's trot.

Theon's horse sniffed, knickering as the Greyjoy patted it to a turn.

He had dark hair that reached the dimples of his cheeks, with a handsome smile and eyes that danced with mirth behind dark-brown pools.

He smiled all of the time. It was a smarmy, self-centered expression, one that made Jon frown every time he saw it.

Theon held that very face now, chuckling as his eyes darted between Jon and Bran.

"The vow of chastity . . . the cold . . . did you see that man's face? I'm surprised your uncle hasn't lost his nose and ears as well." Theon turned to Robb, who paced his horse in the snowy grass.

"I guess it is true- what they say about you Starks. Being resistant to cold." Theon said through a grin.

Robb chuckled, bearing a slight smile for a brief moment, before his face reformed into its typical steely demeanor.

"We die like any other." Robb replied somberly.

His ice blue eyes met Jon's then.

"That man.. Gared. I haven't been able to stop thinking about what he said." Robb addressed Jon, but turned his gaze away from him. Jon watched Robb's cape waver over the side of his horse, as dark red hair was tousled by afternoon winds.

"It seemed as if he was telling the truth." Jon responded instantly.

Jon saw Gared's face again. The man's eyes.

The way he looked.. how he begged to be understood.

He saw Gared's head as it tumbled towards them.

A further chill passed through Jon.

That man.. believed every word he said.

What.. what is it that he could've seen?

"I thought that too!" Bran blurted-

Almost in conjunction with Theon's derisive laugh.

A cynical shade flashed across Robb's blue eyes.

"Someone of your stock would share ideations with a child." Robb's soft voice laughed. The larger boy sat straighter in his saddle, Theon's laughter granting him an even higher sense of superiority.

Robb left it at that- urging his horse forward once more. Theon followed, snorting as the sound of two extra pairs of hooves gradually faded away.

Now, quietness returned. Jon's horse continued on carefully beside Bran's pony, as if his steed was taking extra care as to not scare the child nor the small creature his brother rode upon.

Jon's thick eyebrows furrowed-

He looked down at his hands, now red, as they tightly gripped leathery reigns.

It seemed as if Robb genuinely wanted to ask me something.

Jon felt eyes watching him, and he looked down to see Bran glancing up from his pony.

Jon smiled, and his younger half-brother returned the grin, but weakly.

"What troubles you?" Jon asked.

Bran hesitated-

Jon snuck a glance at Theon and Robb.

They were locked in conversation, Theon talking and laughing loudly, while Robb spoke silently, barely above a whisper. A faint laugh would prance forth from Robb here and there, but as Jon listened, he could tell Robb and Theon were content to leave them alone for now.

"It's okay Bran. Robb isn't listening." Jon assured.

Bran sighed, clouds of white breath escaping through his mouth.

"That man . . . the one Robb mentioned.. The one.. Father killed…"

Jon's eyes widened.

He had almost forgotten that this was the first time Bran had seen someone die.

Jon inadvertently grinned- laughing at himself.

What am I saying? It's the first time for me, too.

Bran's face fell, before looking downwards at the mane of his pony.

"It's foolish, isn't it. As Robb said.. Ideations of a child."

Jon laughed.

"I thought the same as you, Bran. And I still do."

Jon paused, thinking before he spoke again.

"Gared.. He died because he was a deserter. A man who flees The Wall is a dangerous thing, no matter the truth of what he said.. They know if they are caught they will be killed, so they are left with no inhibitions, and will do anything to escape their fate." Bran's eyes widened, looking up at Jon as he rode.

"Father gave him a merciful death." Jon quickly added.

"No, it's not that . . . I- I know he had to die . . . It's what he said . . ."

"He was desperate. Its possible he didn't understand what he saw, or maybe he's just a good liar, and we're both foo-"

Jon was cut off as Theon and Robb suddenly thundered ahead of them, horses pounding the ground. Bran jolted at the noise, and his Pony reared.

"Racing!" He gasped.

Bran beamed at Jon.

"What are you doing? Go! Go! Go!" Bran yelled.

Jon kicked his horse ahead, Bran cheering after him.

He rode hard, cold wind whipping at his face.

Jon raised himself slightly from his saddle, crouching as he advanced.

Theon turned, grinning mischievously.

Jon passed Theon soon enough, and when he looked ahead, all that he saw was Robb's strong back bent over his horse.

gaining on his brother, Jon roared words of encouragement to his steed.

They passed over an old metal bridge, horses sliding on the cold material. Thick woods appeared then, large old trees snuggling together against the cold. It was then Robb veered to the left, galloping into a small clearing next to the edge of the bridge.

Jon frowned and followed, riding slightly past Robb's horse before dismounting.

"What is it?" Jon called-

He carefully climbed down a small but steep hill.

Robb didn't have to answer for him.

His brother stood before the body of a massive wolf, its neck impaled by the horn of a stag.

Robb turned and looked at Jon.

Jon froze, hesitating.

"Come." Robb ordered simply, turning his back again as he spent his attention on the dead wolf.

Jon knitted his brows and walked towards the corpse.

The smell was slick and heavy, and the dead wolf's neck was crusted with frozen blood. Robb bent over, pulling the antler from the wolf's neck.

"A stag. But where is this beast, I wonder . . ." Robb trailed off, rising to his full height, then looking around deeper in the woods.

Jon took his place by the body of the wolf.

It was nearly three times as big as Bran's pony, with long legs and a pronounced muzzle.

It was then Jon heard the mewling of pups.

He hovered his hands over the body of the wolf, and then placed them underneath, gently lifting the corpse over. Hidden within the furs, five pups squirmed and yipped.

"Ho! What's down there?" Theon's voice called down to Jon, who was so amazed by what he found he was at a loss for words.

"Well?" Theon pressured.

"Go and get Father. And quickly!" Jon said finally, touching one of the pups.

"Of course, Lord Snow."

Jon winced at the insult.

Insult that it was, Theon obeyed Jon's order, hearing him gallop away from the forest and over the bridge.

Footsteps crunched behind Jon, and Robb returned.

"I found it. The sttag looks like it died from bloodloss. The wolf did it in beyond the grave."

Jon hesitated as he looked upon his brother.

Robb returned the glance quizzically, and just before he questioned it-

Jon spoke.

"Look," Jon said.

Robb approached closer, lowering himself.

"What-"

"Pups. Five of them." Jon looked up at Robb.

As they stood together in silence, the sound of horses was heard above, as Eddard returned with Theon and the rest of his party.

"Five. Five pups for five trueborn Starks." Robb whispered as he turned away from Jon, leaving him kneeling before the wolf fledglings.

Jon curled his hands into fists, anger brimming into him. He exhaled and stood up, putting his back to the pups and finding his father and Bran standing before Robb.

. When Bran caught sight of Jon, he ran to him, smiling.

He was breathless, and Jon's heart forgot the anger he felt for Robb as he looked down at Bran.

"Come look," Jon said, bending to one knee and presenting the pups to his younger brother.

Bran squealed in delight, immediately gathering one up in his arms. It brushed its muzzle against Bran's chest, and he held it all the tighter. Robb and Eddard were talking in hushed tones, both of them arguing as they walked up behind Jon.

"As you wish." Robb said, his voice tinged with cold.

Bran turned to their father.

"Can we keep them? This one likes me." He said hopefully.

Jon regarded Eddard, and looking at his eyes, he knew the answer.

"No, Bran. These are direwolves. They are dangerous. It would be a mercy to kill them here."

Bran recoiled, huddling closer to his pup.

"Please, father! It isn't fair they didn't do anything wrong!"

Eddard frowned. "Bran, you need to-"

"If I may interrupt, Lord Stark." Jon said suddenly, standing up on both of his legs.

"The direwolf is the sigil of your House. There are five pups . . . one for each of your children. This is a message from the Old Gods. With the Boltons' conversion to the Hollene.. You are the last vigil of the Old Gods in these lands."

Jon dropped his gaze as he finished.

"It would be an ill thing to kill a message from them."

Compassion, so rarely seen reflected in Eddard, shone through his eyes.

Finally, Eddard spoke.

"You desire no wolf for yourself, Jon?" He asked softly.

"No."

Eddard nodded, and Bran jumped with happiness.

"Does this mean we can keep them?" He chimed excitedly.

"Yes. But you will be responsible for them. You will train them, feed them, and wash them. Do not make me regret granting you this." Eddard warned.

Bran smiled brilliantly and looked at Jon, his eyes filled with thanks.

"Theon, help me retrieve the rest of the pups." Robb said, and the two of them gathered the small wolves. They climbed up the hill, and they found the rest of their party waiting for them.

Questioning looks came from the men, and Eddard sighed.

"Direwolves."

One of his men scoffed.

"They haven't been seen on this side of The Wall for hundreds of years!"

It was Robb who answered him, his eyes cold, his face stern.

"Now there are five." He said, and that was the end of the discussion.

As they were preparing to finish their ride to Winterfell, Jon heard a rustling in the brush near the bridge. Dismounting again, he went towards the sound, moving thorny thistles and dull green leaves away.

Then-

Jon rose, holding a sixth pup.

It white as the snow that began to fall around them.

Jon smiled at the small, pitiful creature-

Robb glared from his horse.

But when Jon returned to the company with his prize, neither Robb nor Theon offered any cruel words.

They returned to Winterfell in comfortable, if not questioning, silence.

It had been... a strange day.