A Bastards Honor

Chapter 2: The First Ranger


Jon sat in his Lord Fathers' solar, two banners were unfurled from the stone ceiling to the stone floor on parallel walls. A gray wolf running across a white field, with the words, winter is coming.

"So, Jon, Ser Rodrik has told me that you are coming along nicely as his squire. I actually thought that you would try to get out of it by this point." said Ned, his long-face smiled slightly. "I do remember how your forays into Valyrian went before your last name-day."

"This is so much more important." Jon replied, leaning forward. "This is more than a language that is only spoken across the narrow sea. This is about my honor Lord Stark. This is about becoming more."

"Yes, however I have things that are troubling me." Lord Eddard stroked his close-cropped beard." Maester Luwin has reported that you are beginning to slack in your lessons. And there are reports that your relationship with your brother and Theon has gotten worse since your squireship. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Jon studied his Lord father, his eyes were hard and gray and his face a statue. "My apologies, Lord father, I have been very busy with training and I have started helping Ser Rodrik with his duties as Castellan." Jon wiped his clammy hands on his britches. "My Lord–"

"Jon, please I have told you, we are alone, you may call me father." said Ned easily.

"Okay, L-father, I have tried–" Jon looked down. Had he really tried? They threw barbs his way and he returned them all with his own kind of venom. "Not truly, but it is hard father. They speak ill of me everyday. I am already a bastard, Lady Stark does not like me, and she keeps all the others away from me, and poisons them against me. Who else do I have besides you? And you are busy, you have five other children and the whole of Winterfell to concern yourself with."

Ned thrummed his fingers against his ironwood desk, looking faraway into the gray sky that overlooked Winterfell. "I understand Jon, but please you must try. I will speak to Cat, this vendetta against you must come to an end. You are to become a Knight, you must rise above the hate, and scorn that others have thrust upon you."

Jon nodded, "I-I will try."

Ned graced him with a small smile, and he felt his own lips curving upwards. "Good lad, and I want you to report to Septa Mordane everyday at the hour of none."

Jon's smile was quickly replaced by a grimace. "Septa Mordane? For what? I have no interest in needlework."

"Ah, yes, but you wish to be a Knight, and only a True Knight is anointed by the seven. You will need to study their ways." Ned replied, he leaned a little closer. "Not just that Jon, but if you are able to convince Septa Mordane that you are a good study, and the good lad I know you to be, you will make my work with Cat much smoother."

"But what about the Old Gods? Will they not curse me for turning my back upon them?" Jon asked.

"You may not know this Jon, as you have never studied the seven, but these seven are considered one god, and the seven are merely different aspects. The same way that the old Gods are too numerous to name but they are found in everything living things, in all the streams and the tree, and the snow and the wind. They are not so different." Eddard replied. "I believe, as long as you visit the weirwood tree, and keep to the ancient tenets, that all will be well."

"I understand my L–" a glare from his father stalled him. "Father, but do not think talking to Lady Catelyn will make much difference. Once the sword has been plunged, removing it will only drain the blood quicker."

Ned pinched his nose, "Maybe you are a better study than Maester Luwin seemed to suggest."

He strolled through the solar, near walking a hole through the furs, "So, what would you ask of me Jon? To do nothing?"

Jon pushed himself out of his own chair. "I ask for the opportunity to prove myself." Jon looked up at his fathers large frame. "Robb and the others, their path is clear, they will become you and become their lady mother. My path? I never had true parents to guide me the way they have had. And I have always been a bastard. My path has always been the opposite of what everyone else expects."

Jon stepped up to his lord father and knelt, "Lord Eddard, I ask that when the time comes for me to help Ser Rodrik in guarding our lands, and when the time comes for me to be knighted. That you will not stand in my way? I ask that you allow me to become a man of my own right."

Lord Eddard seemed to swallow thickly, "I – I will allow it Jon."


Jon

Training Yard

Jon secured the final strap of his mismatched ensemble, it was made of thick leather and housed both sand and old iron. He wore greaves at his shins, a chest piece and vambraces.

"Still wearing that foolish gear?" Robb asked.

"Better i look foolish, now," Jon turned around to his brother, Theon did not accompany him, thank the Gods, "Than look foolish with a blade to my neck the first time i wear true armor."

Robb nodded, "Listen Jon, I know I haven't been the best–"

Jon interrupted him, "I know you don't mean it. So don't bother. I also spoke with father, he told me that he intended to speak with you. So, I know these are not your true feelings. One day, when I have earned your apology I will be waiting, but not because Lord Stark has asked you to."

Robb seemed to square his face, almost snarling, "Robb, no matter what you say or feel. You must remember this. Despite how you or your mother may feel about me. I will always protect those of house Stark and Winterfell. That I swear on my honor."

"How can a bastard have honor?" asked Theon, Jon whipped his head aside.

"I would ask, how a son of reavers could pass judgment?" Jon replied. Refrain from the wanton giving of offense. Jon ground his teeth. "Apologies, heir Greyjoy, that was—said in haste."

"Heh, such a craven that cannot even live by his own barbs?" grinned Theon.

"Truly you are the picture of wisdom," Jon inclined his head, all the while cursing the tenets of chivalry. To shun unfairness, meanness and deceit. What if it was deceitful to be courteous?

"Enough of this chatter, my ladies," Rodrik Cassel interrupted, inclining his head ever so slightly to Jon. "Today, we will be putting all I've taught you to the test. Three spars will be had today, between the three of you."

"Hah! We should end this charade and have Robb and myself battle. We all know Ser Snow over here could never defeat anyone! Let alone dressed as the court jester!" Theon laughed.

"We will shortly see how you all fare. However, I would be remiss if I did not advise you to err on the course of wisdom. In war it does not matter if you are killed by a great knight or by the biggest fool in the land. Dead is dead." said Rodrik Cassel.

"What is dead may never die."

"What's that boy?" Asked, Ser Rodrik.

Theon repeated himself, this time with more conviction, ""What is dead may never die."

"Indeed, perhaps there is hope for you." Ser Rodrik replied. "Right first up will be Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy. Wooden blades only."

"You're going down bastard!" exclaimed Theon, standing across from Jon. He wore furs and light leathers.

"Then I will smile." Jon ground out. The knightly tenets of chivalry were truly grating on his nerves.

They both brandished their wooden swords, the length of long swords and just as broad.

"Begin!" Rodrik Cassel exclaimed.

Jon was immediately on the defensive, he moved slow but his sword arm was swift. He parried left and right, up and down while stepping back slowly. "Fight you craven!"

Jon managed to parry diagonal swing from above, throwing Theon's weight forward and his blade into the damp mud below. Quickly, he brought his sword to Theon's neck. "Yield!"

Theon didn't care, he pushed the wooden blade from his neck and surged forward, swinging, Jon blocked three strikes, before he stumbled back against the ring, the fourth strike caught his arm, then the next caught his shoulder and he moved to Theon's left.

Jon moved as soon as Theon turned around, striking at his arm but before his next hit could come, he cut air and when he turned to face Theon, the brown haired boy held the wooden blade to his deck. "Like I said, you're going down."

"Then I will smile." Jon smiled broadly enough to show his teeth.

Theon scowled, then hit Jon in the midsection with the pommel of his wooden blade. "Smiling in defeat? Who heard of such a thing."

"Enough! I will have no more battles between you two in my training yard!" Ser Rodrik demanded. "Now take a rest, Theon, you will be battling Robb next."

Jon grunted while holding his stomach, he spied a glance at Theon and Robb. They were laughing and shaking hands, like brothers. That was supposed to be Jon. He shook his head, that time has long passed. Whatever their relationship would be in the future, he doubted it would be one of love.

"Let's get this going, we don't have all day!" Ser Rodrik exclaimed after a few minutes. "Lets square up boys, Theon Greyjoy versus Robb Stark."

The two brothers in all but blood squared up, "If I win this battle you need to stay away from Wintertown for a whole moon!"

"Fair, I'll take you up on that offer. But If I win, then you need to join me in Wintertown for a whole moon!" Theon grinned back.

They clashed blades, and Robb pushed Theon back ever so slightly, and swung again, this time he seemed to just keep the strength off, and allowed Theon to push him back. "Come now, Lord Stark! Is that the best you can do? Looks like the Winterfell ladies are going to be enjoying themselves this moon!"

Robb slid underneath a strike of ironwood, and unleashed a strike fast and swift as a winter eagle striking its prey. Before the Kraken heir could retaliate, Robb snuck in another three blows, proving his claws were anything but blunt.

On the forth hit, Greyjoy blocked the sword and on the fifth he parried, yet it was enough for him to unleash a storm of strikes, reminiscent of the arms of a kraken, and yet Robb soldiered each hit, "We're on land, Kraken!" Robb twisted around before the last blow could hit, "Here the direwolves reign supreme!"

Robb jumped to the sky and came down with enough force to wrench the wooden blade from Theon's grip entirely, and like a whip he lashed out and his blade stopped only a leaf shy of the Krakens neck. "Looks like your lady friends will be missing you this moon."

"Aye, it looks like it." Theon replied, his head hung low.

"Don't look so down," replied Robb. "I have had extra sword lessons from my uncle Benjen and Ser Jory." Robb grinned, taking his hand, "But I tell you what in fortnight we will cross blades again, and if you win I will cede this bet."

"Okay, we will take one more short rest for Robb to recuperate and our next spar will be between Jon and Robb." said Ser Rodrik.

"No, need Ser Rodrik." Robb replied, swinging his sword in a circle. "It won't make a difference if I take a break or not. The end result is the same. I will win."

Jon pushed himself up and grabbed a blade from the racks, silently standing across from Robb, "Ready! Fight!"

Jon immediately threw a strike for Robb's ear, at that pronouncement, Robb was quick enough to block the movement, and Jon stepped back. Come on, take the bait fishy.

Robb didn't waste any time, he stepped forward, swing his blade in a full arc, however Jon easily got his blade up to block the blow. "Just give up now, I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself twice today!"

Jon smiled, "Is that all you've got fishy? Empty words and strength to push back, even a bastard like me?"

Robb ground his teeth, "Oooh so the fishy does have fangs!"

Jon grinned as Robb pushed forward, and forced Jon to breakaway, and backpedal away from Robb's wild onslaught. Slobber and spit flew from his mouth in waves, and it took all Jon's skill to parry the blows at just the right moment, leading Robb in circles.

They called it the wolfsblood, and although Jon called him a fish, it was certainly strong in Robb. As Jon led the Auburn-haired around, he quickly noticed that his chest was rising and falling rapidly, while his mouth opened wider and inhaled deeper.

Jon slipped, in a mud as he stepped back, as he tried to right his footwork, Robb took full advantage, throwing a powerful strike into his chest, and another into his sword arm. The blow sent the Ironwood blade into the air, "Heh, time to give–"

Jon dived forward, rolling along the length of his back, and retrieved his blade in time to parry, a wide arcing blow from Robb. Time to catch a fish!

Jon moved, striking out against Robb's chest, then pivoted and struck his sword arm before the Stark heir could raise his sword in defense. The brought his ironwood blade to Robb's throat and wrenched the blade from Robb's failing grip with his left hand. "Yield!"

Robb glared defiantly at Jon for heartbeat, before his head sagged and he replied, "Yield."

Jon dropped both blades into the earth, and held his hand out to Robb, but the Stark heir seemed to hesitate, he looked somewhere over his shoulder and slapped it out of the way, "Don't get cocky, Snow. Next time you won't be so lucky!"


Castellan of Winterfells Solar

One Moon Later

Jon stood vigil in the corner of his masters' solar, it had a large window cut out of stone and filled with glass on the west side of the room. Two large Dire wolves running on a white field hung from the ceiling on both the west and the east side of the room, while a large banner hung behind him with his own colors.

House Cassels banner was ten white wolf heads in a reverse triangle on a grey field, and bordered by black.

White and gray furs littered the stone floors below, and the assembled men knelt on one knee while Ser Rodrik paced the room.

Ser Jory Cassel, brown of hair and clean shaven unlike his brother and uncle, "What do you have to report of your unit, Captain Jory?"

Jory looked towards his uncle and stood, folding his hands behind his back, "Their training has progressed quite well, my Lord." Jory replied, smiling slightly. "They have managed to spy a few bandits across the walls, no banners, wearing thick furs with poor weapons. However, by the time they get the message to any outriders, these bandits make themselves scarce. We suspect these bandits are truly wildlings."

Ser Rodrik stroked his beard, then glanced at Jon for a beat then went on. "Thank you, Jory."

Jory nodded, before taking the knee once more. "And what of you, First Hunter Edric?" Jory asked his second nephew, this one was much like Rodrik in the face, however he sported a full beard–he said it kept him warm in the Wolfswood. "Have you noticed anything strange in your hunts for game in the wolfswood and beyond?"

"Aye!" The wild brother replied, "We have found boars with arrows in em', like they 'ave been abandoned. The arrows have heads of stone, and not steel like ours or any of the lords of the north."

He fished out an arrow from the quiver on his back and handed it to Ser Rodrik, "You can see the stone, and the twine, my Lord. some'ing isnt right. You know I was fostered in the mountains. I had me fair share o' meeting with em' wildings under the Theo. I believe Jory speaks true, we 'ave a wildling problem on our hands." the wild man then added, "An' these are no normal wildings. They are smart to get all the way to Winterfell unnoticed."

"Thank you, Edric." Rodrik Cassel replied, stroking his gray whiskers. "And what of you, William?"

William was dark of hair and gray of eye, some said he was one of the many Stark bastards scattered around The North. He had the look of the first men, and the look of the starks. "The harvest of the smallfolk is going well. However, we have noticed theft of the potatoes' an' the wheat. The farmhands say their dogs bark but when they go an' look, they can't see anything. The lumberjacks tell me they find furs at the base of trees in the Wolfswood but no tracks."

"What say you Jon?" Asked Rodrik Cassel. "What do you think is the cause of this? What can you tell me?"

Jon was silent for a few beats, "I do not think we have enough information to rightly say." He moved from the wall, and walked to his master, "I think that we have enough evidence for investigation though. If someone is in our Wolfswood undetected, except for a few sightings and some abandoned fur, it means they can infiltrate Winterfell just the same."

"You are correct, Jon, that is what bothers me." replied Ser Rodrik. "What else?"

"If they are wildlings, there can't be many. They would need a small force to travel undetected and to breach the wall. I think they are here for supplies, why else would they stay for so long and only hunt and pillage from the farm lands?"

"That is a good point," replied Edric, "Bu' 'ave you thought of poachers? Might be they are poor smallfolk that cant rub coppers together? An' don't even have a shelter for their own? Mayhaps both?"

"All good points," replied Ser Rodrik. "However, it does not solve the problem or give us any suitable answers. So, this is what will happen, Jon kneel before me."

Jon knit is brow in confusion, he cant mean to knight me, I am not even four and ten!

"Jon Snow, I name you acting First Ranger of Winterfell. I charge you with investigating and eliminating all threats beyond the walls of Winterfell and within Lord Starks lands. Do you accept this responsibility while you are the First Ranger?" Ser Rodrik laid the flat of his long sword on Jon's shoulder.

"I–I accept." Jon replied, his mouth still slightly parted.

"Good, I want you to gather some hunters–speak to Edric, I'm sure he has a few in mind. And, get some guards too, Jory should be able to assist. I want you to leave tomorrow morn, at first light. Make sure you have everything you need. This could be a lengthy endeavor, return in a sennight with a report." Ser Rodrik instructed. "Dismissed, and make haste, I have a meeting with the guild leaders and I have not even broken my fast."

Jon and the rest of his companions did as he bid, but there was only one thought that pervaded through his mind, as the oak door swung closed behind him with a thud, First Ranger of Winterfell, Jon Snow.


Gates of Winterfell

The Next Morning

Jon stood at the gates of Winterfell, with an assembled crew of two hunters and two guards, the hunters were twin brothers, their names were Beron and Beren. They carried a quiver of ironwood arrows, and a bow of the same material, finely made and as dark as night.

They were dark of hair, square of chin with beards as wispy as an old spider web in the wind. The only way Jon could rightly tell them apart was their eyes. Beron had eyes the color of amber and Beren had gray-black eyes, as dark as any Stark.

The two brothers had a pair of basset hounds, a gift from their father Farlen.

The two guards that joined him were as young as the Hunters, maybe ten and five, they were thick furs and boiled leather, a sword at their hip and the emblem of house Stark stood proudly on their cloaks.

Their names were Gavin and Grig. Gavin was broad of shoulder and half an Umber by the look of him. His Dark hair was a wild mane and his eyes were close-set. A white scar ran across his brow, burned and ugly.

Grig was of a similar height, his dirty brown hair was kept short. His eyes were mismatched black and brown. A full mustache grew above his upper lip, and wispy brown almost blonde hair grew from his chin.

"Do you all have everything you need? Bedroll? Food? Water? Furs? And Flint?" Jon asked the assembled men. He had them in a single line, while he walked across them with his hands folded behind his back. "Are your horses ready for travel?"

"Yes–er First Ranger!" Gavin was the one that replied. "I had the stable boys bring the horses just outside the gate."

"We scouted the area before you arrived," said Beron, then his dark-haired brother continued, "and we have a trail we would like to follow if it pleases you, First Ranger."

Jon cocked his head quizzically, "Good, we will leave in the next few minutes."

Jon brightened when he spied his Lord father, Ser Rodrik and Arya approaching, "You didn't think I would allow my Son to leave Winterfell without seeing him off first?" said Ned.

"Especially now that he is the First Ranger of Winterfell!" grinned Ser Rodrik.

"Aye!" replied Ned, "Now Jon, I want you to know I am incredibly proud of you. I am always proud of you. However, no wildling or vagrant is worth the life of my son. So, you must be careful out there. Retreat if you need to. Do not let your pride control you."

"Aye, my–Father." replied Jon, "Thank you. I will make you proud. When you next see me, I will be a proven first ranger with prisoners. Be they wildlings or simple vagrants."

Ned Stark put a hand on his shoulder and smiled, it was small, almost unnoticeable on his stern face but Jon saw it and it set his chest aflame.

"Father, can't I go with Jon! I also want to catch some wildlings!" chirped his little sister, Arya.

"Not this time, sister." replied Jon smirking. "I mean to catch the wildlings. If I take you with me, they will be too frightened to face me."

"Not fair!" huffed his wild half-sister. "Then I can come next time then? Because they will be scared of you too!"

"Perhaps," Jon replied, ruffling her already messy hair.

"Jon makes sure you make swift work of the Wildlings or whomever they are. My armor cannot go too long without oil, or it may just rust." Ser Rodrik placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remember all I have taught you well. And remember, we Knight do not only use our Swords," and then he tapped Jon's temple with his index finger. "But we use our minds too."

"Aye, I will remember. You have taught me well, Ser Rodrik. It is time I make use of what you have taught me." replied Jon, "farewell."

As Jon turned away, he caught a glimpse of Auburn. His brother had come to see him off. Perhaps not to say his goodbyes, but it was good enough.

Today he was Jon Snow, First Ranger of Winterfell–but maybe soon he will be Ser Jon, First Ranger of Winterfell.


AN: Now I understand that some of you may not like the idea that the Starks and Jon Snow are not one big happy family. But without giving too many spoilers, that will come with time. I honestly don't have pairings mapped out as of yet, as the focus is more so on Jon developing as a major player in the North. That does not mean that I am not open to suggestions.

So, I was doing a bit of research and I found that Jory had two other brothers, and his Father actually died at the Tower of Joy. So, I inserted Edric as one of the brothers.

A note on Stark Bastards, while doing research on house Stark in the Wiki, I found that over the years a few of the Lords/Kings of House Stark fathered bastards, so it's not such a stretch for the descendants of those bastards to still be around in the modern day.

As always, please follow, favorite and leave any reviews, comments or recommendations.