Chapter 1:
The massive gates of Winterfell opened wide to welcome the arrival of the crown. The cold, grey stone walls of the castle looked even more austere against the vibrant gold and blood-red banners of the Lannisters lining the path of the royal convoy. For days now, Winterfell had been buzzing with restless energy, as the nobles from King's Landing, dressed in their finery and flaunting their airs of superiority, filled the halls of Winterfell, bringing a rare touch of grandeur to the North.
Jon Snow stood on the outskirts, keeping his distance. Since the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and Queen Cersei, Jon had gone out of his way to remain unnoticed. He knew his place was not among the royal guests, let alone in the affairs of the court. As Ned Stark's bastard, Jon was more aware than ever of his status. Yet, despite himself, he couldn't help but observe the figures he had only ever heard of in stories.
Sitting in the shadow of an old turret, he watched King Robert, large and boisterous, as he strolled through the courtyard with his father. The king, once a legendary warrior, now carried more flesh than armor, but his booming laughter and rough humor echoed the tales of his youth.
"Ned!" Robert called out, clapping a heavy arm onto Ned Stark's shoulder. "Why in the gods' name do you stay in this frozen wasteland? You should come to King's Landing, taste the pleasures of the capital, eh?"
Jon caught the small, restrained smile from Ned. His father wasn't a man swayed by such temptations. His northern pride, his deep sense of honor—those things held little value in a world run by intrigue and indulgence.
But that night, Jon's life took an unexpected turn during the grand feast held in the king's honor. The great hall of Winterfell was lit by hundreds of torches, filled with laughter, conversation, and the clinking of cups. Jon sat at a distant table with Robb, Theon, and other members of House Stark.
And then, everything changed.
The king, drunk, rose from his massive wooden chair. His face flushed and eyes squinting from the wine, he surveyed the room. He had been speaking for several minutes, but now his gaze landed on Jon, who felt his face heat up under the sudden attention.
"Snow!" Robert bellowed, a mocking grin on his face. "The bastard of the North. Come here, boy."
The entire hall fell silent. Conversations stopped, and all eyes turned to Jon. He felt the burning stare of Catelyn Stark, barely hiding her cold disdain, while Ned, sitting at the royal table, remained still, his brow slightly furrowed. Slowly, Jon stood, his legs stiff, and walked across the hall under the scrutinizing eyes of the nobles and knights, who saw him as an oddity.
When he reached the king, Robert placed a heavy hand on his shoulder—a gesture that could have seemed friendly but to Jon felt crushing.
"So, Snow," Robert said, his breath reeking of wine. "You want to freeze your balls off on that bloody Wall, eh?" He burst into laughter, followed by a few nervous chuckles from the crowd.
Jon nodded, unsure of what to say. "Yes, Your Grace," he murmured.
Robert shook his head, dismissing the idea. "A boy with your blood, Ned Stark's son, wasted in that miserable Night's Watch? By the gods, it's a waste!" He turned to Ned, his tone more serious now. "Ned, don't you agree? Your bastard deserves a better place."
Ned didn't answer right away, but Jon noticed the tension in his father's jaw. "The Wall is a good place for him, Robert," Ned finally replied, his voice calm but firm.
But Robert wasn't ready to let it go. "Damn it, Ned! I'm telling you, this boy belongs in King's Landing. Want proof? I'll make you an offer you can't refuse—Jon Snow in the Kingsguard. A Stark by my side!"
A heavy silence fell over the hall. Jon's heart raced. The Kingsguard? For a bastard, it was an unimaginable honor. He had always dreamed of joining the Night's Watch, of serving as a sworn brother. But now, Robert was offering him something beyond anything he had ever hoped for. Was this an honor or a trap?
All eyes turned back to Ned, who seemed to weigh every word before speaking. "Robert, I cannot…"
"Oh yes, you can," Robert interrupted, his tone suddenly more authoritative. "And you will. What better way to strengthen our friendship? A Stark at my table, a Stark in the Kingsguard."
Cersei, seated at the king's right, had been silent, but her cold, calculating gaze fixed on Jon. It was clear she didn't like this idea, but she said nothing. She just watched, as if measuring how she could twist this to her advantage.
Jon, for his part, was torn. He glanced at Ned, searching for approval in his eyes. But his father, though visibly uncomfortable, remained silent. Refusing the king in such a public setting would be an affront.
"So, Jon Snow," Robert said impatiently, "what do you say?"
Jon's thoughts whirled. He had never wanted to go to King's Landing. His life was here, in the North. But could he really refuse such an honor? And what would become of him if he stayed at the Wall, when he had been offered a rare chance to prove his worth?
He looked up at Robert, then at Ned, and finally replied, his voice stronger than he expected: "If it is your wish, Your Grace, I will serve in the Kingsguard."
Robert roared with laughter, louder than ever. "That's what I like to hear, boy! A true Stark, even with mixed blood!"
The hall murmured softly as the guests and members of House Stark absorbed Robert's announcement. Jon Snow, the bastard of the North, had just been offered a place among the most prestigious knights in the realm. But while some celebrated, Jon felt the weight of the stares of those who saw this decision in a different light.
The king's laughter still echoed throughout the hall, but Jon knew that this decision didn't please everyone. He turned to Ned, hoping for some support, but his father's expression only revealed unease. Catelyn, as always, watched him with the same cold, distant look she had given him since childhood.
"Well, Jon Snow," Robert bellowed, taking another swig of wine, "you'd better get ready to serve with honor!" His mood was visibly lighter after the announcement, and he seemed pleased with himself. "A Stark in the Kingsguard, Ned! It reminds me of our old days together. It's about time you and your family got closer to the court."
Ned lowered his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he replied. "Robert, I… I thank you for the honor you've done my son," he said gravely, pausing as if choosing his next words carefully. "But you know Jon had other plans. He wanted to join the Night's Watch."
The king waved this off as if it were nothing. "The Night's Watch? It's nothing but a band of criminals and old men. Jon deserves better than that. I'm doing you both a favor. In King's Landing, he'll find his true place."
The room grew quieter once more. The faces around the table reflected a range of emotions. Sansa, sitting at the royal table, could barely contain her excitement. The thought of Jon serving in King's Landing, alongside Joffrey, fed her dreams of a perfect life at court. Arya, on the other hand, looked confused. She didn't understand why Jon had accepted something he never wanted. Her brother was a man of the North, not a courtier.
Meanwhile, Cersei Lannister, still seated beside the king, gave Jon a calculating glance. Her lips curled into a slight smile, though her face remained expressionless. She saw how Robert's decision served his interests, but she wasn't fooled. A Stark, even a bastard, in the Kingsguard meant another witness to the inner workings of courtly life.
As for Jon, he felt a deep unease settle over him. The honor of joining the Kingsguard was undeniable, but so was the feeling that he was being pulled into a world he didn't understand. King's Landing was filled with lies, betrayals, and power games, all of which were foreign to him. He had spent his life preparing to live in the cold shadows of the Wall, among the Sworn Brothers, and now he was being thrust into a realm of deceit and intrigue.
Later that night...
Jon wandered through the dim corridors of Winterfell, escaping the noise of the banquet. His footsteps led him to the courtyard, where the cold northern night brought him some comfort. The walls of the fortress, once a symbol of safety, now felt like they were closing in on him.
As he leaned against one of the stone pillars, arms crossed, he heard light footsteps approaching. Arya emerged from the shadows, her dark, sharp eyes fixed on him. She still wore her simple clothes, far from the ladylike attire her mother always insisted on. Jon knew that Arya, much like himself, had little patience for the pomp of court life.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked bluntly, her tone as direct as ever. Her gaze locked onto his, demanding an explanation.
Jon sighed, lowering his head. "I didn't have a choice, Arya. It's the king. You can't say no to a king."
Arya frowned, clearly unimpressed. "You wanted to go to the Wall, not to King's Landing. Why didn't you tell them you didn't want this?"
A wave of frustration rose in Jon's chest. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice tight. "It's not just about what I want. There are bigger things at play here."
Arya shook her head, still not satisfied. "I don't see why you listen to them. I would've said no."
Despite himself, Jon smiled. Arya had always been fiercely stubborn. She didn't yet understand the complexities of power, but that was part of her strength.
"Maybe you would've said no," Jon murmured, "but I have to do what's right—for father, for all of us."
For a moment, Arya stayed quiet, her expression softening with a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "King's Landing is dangerous, you know that, don't you?"
Jon nodded. "Yes, I know."
She lingered beside him for a moment longer before slipping back into the shadows, leaving Jon alone with his thoughts.
The next morning...
The royal convoy was preparing to leave Winterfell in a few days, and with it, part of House Stark. But before that, another important announcement shook the Stark household. Ned, despite his deep dislike of the South, had accepted Robert's request to become Hand of the King. This decision meant that he, Sansa, Arya, and now Jon would be heading to King's Landing. The family was splitting apart, leaving behind a North still reeling from Bran's fall.
Catelyn, colder than ever, did her best to avoid Jon that morning. Her long-held resentment toward him had only grown with Bran's condition. As she passed by him in the courtyard, she offered no words, just a brief, icy glance before turning her focus back to Bran, who remained bedridden and unresponsive.
Jon stood with Robb in the courtyard as the preparations for the king's departure began in earnest. Horses were being saddled, carts loaded, and the Lannister banners flapped high in the wind.
Robb, quieter than usual, finally spoke. "I didn't think you'd go with them," he said, his voice heavy with emotion.
Jon sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Neither did I."
The two brothers exchanged a look, but no more words were needed. They had grown up side by side, and though Jon was technically a bastard, he and Robb had always felt like brothers in every sense that mattered. Now, they were being separated—perhaps for a long time.
Jon glanced up at the walls of Winterfell. Today, the fortress seemed even more imposing, a symbol of the life he was leaving behind. The southern roads called to him, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread building in his chest. In King's Landing, another life awaited him—a life where wolves didn't rule, but lions did.
In the courtyard, Sansa and Arya were also preparing for the journey. Sansa's excitement was obvious. She already dreamed of the court life in King's Landing, of Joffrey, and the fairy-tale existence she imagined awaited her there. Arya, on the other hand, looked sullen. The South didn't appeal to her. She loved the North, its cold, its freedom.
Jon approached his half-sisters, still wrapped in his fur cloak. Ned had asked for everyone to be ready to leave soon, and tensions were running high.
Arya, her face still hard, asked once more, "King's Landing… Do you really think it's the right place for you?"
Jon shrugged, knowing there was no easy answer. "I didn't choose this, Arya. I'm just doing what the king asked."
"But you wanted to go to the Wall," Arya persisted, her stubbornness showing through again. "Why didn't you say no?"
Jon sighed. "You don't say no to a king. Especially not with Father there, watching, and everyone waiting for an answer."
Arya crossed her arms, still unimpressed. "It's ridiculous."
Jon smiled slightly. Arya's defiance reminded him of his own rebellious streak, but he knew the world they lived in demanded difficult choices. He glanced over at Sansa, who was lost in her own thoughts, a soft smile on her face.
"King's Landing is beautiful, Jon," Sansa said, her voice full of excitement. "And Joffrey… he's so noble."
Jon had to suppress a sigh. He had little patience for young Prince Joffrey, whom he had observed from a distance during the past few days. Joffrey's arrogance and cruelty had not gone unnoticed by Jon, though Sansa seemed blind to it, lost in her romantic dreams.
"Be careful with Joffrey, Sansa," Jon murmured, his eyes meeting hers. "He's not what he seems."
Sansa frowned, clearly offended. "You don't know him, Jon. He's… he's much more than you think."
Jon chose not to argue further, knowing it would only upset her. Sansa lived in a world of dreams, and he feared King's Landing would bring her painful lessons.
In Ned's quarters...
Ned Stark sat alone by the fire in his quarters, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. The decision to leave Winterfell and become Hand of the King weighed heavily on him. Since Bran's fall, each day felt darker, and the thought of leaving his son bedridden, unconscious, tore at him. But he knew Robert needed him. And, deep down, he sensed that something important and dangerous was brewing in the capital.
The door creaked open softly, and Jon entered, his face lined with uncertainty. Ned gave him a nod, motioning for him to come closer.
"Father," Jon murmured respectfully.
Ned was silent for a moment, studying his son's face. Jon had accepted the king's offer to serve in the Kingsguard, but Ned knew it wasn't a choice he had wanted. "You didn't have to accept, you know," he said gently.
Jon shook his head. "It was the king, Father. How could I refuse?"
Ned sighed deeply. He knew Jon was right. Refusing Robert's offer in front of so many would have been a grave insult. "The Kingsguard is a great responsibility. But remember this, Jon: whatever happens, never lose your honor. The court is filled with vipers, and the Lannisters are no friends of ours."
Jon nodded, his face somber. "I won't forget."
Ned placed a hand on Jon's shoulder, and for the first time in days, some of the tension seemed to ease between them. Jon knew his family was counting on him, despite his uncertain place in it all. It was a role he never asked for, but now he would have to bear it.
The departure from Winterfell...
The morning of their departure, Winterfell's courtyard was alive with activity. Horses were being saddled, carts loaded, and servants bustled around the royal convoy. The Lannisters were preparing to leave the North, returning to their world of luxury and treachery.
The Stark family gathered near the main gate, ready to say their farewells. Robb embraced Ned in a long, silent hug, then turned to Jon.
"I'll take care of Winterfell," Robb said in a serious tone, his eyes steady. "And you, take care of Father and our sisters down there."
Jon nodded, emotion swelling inside him. He had never been away from Winterfell for more than a few days, and the thought of leaving, possibly for years, filled him with a dread he couldn't quite shake.
Catelyn, for her part, kept her distance. She said nothing to Jon, only casting him a brief, resentful glance before moving toward Bran, who was still under the care of the maesters. Jon's departure seemed more of a relief to her, a burden she was finally free of.
As the convoy set off, passing through the massive gates of Winterfell, Jon couldn't help but glance back again and again, watching the castle slowly disappear into the horizon. This might be the last time he ever saw the place he called home.
Riding alongside him, Ned, Sansa, and Arya were equally quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. The long journey to King's Landing had begun, and with it, the start of a new life filled with uncertainty and danger.
Jon did not yet know how profoundly this journey would change him, or the lives of those he held dear.