Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or anything related. It belongs to George R.R. Martin, the creator of this wonderful universe and David Benioff and D. B. Weiss who created the show.
Hunter's Gate, Winterfell(296AC)
Jon Pov
My father, Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, decided to tour the north, taking advantage of a raven that arrived from one of the mountain clans about a dispute over territory boundaries, a lost herd of goats, or all of the above. So, my brother Robb and I will accompany him on this journey. Of course, Robb is going because he is my father's first legitimate son and therefore the heir to the North and to the seat of Winterfell. I, on the other hand, his bastard son, am going because Lady Catelyn cannot stand my presence in the castle.
Well, my father assures me that's not the reason, that it's good for me to meet the vassals of House Stark, but what benefit could someone like me get, even though my father insists that this will help me in my future?
I guess nothing is set in stone yet. We'll see.
Not everything is bad on the road to the north of the North, jape intended. There is the possibility of meeting my uncle Benjen, since, taking advantage of the journey through the mountain clans; we will pass by the Night's Watch castle on our way to the Last Hearth.
"Jon, why don't you stop your brooding and help us here with the horses?"
The captain of the guard, Jory Cassel, shouts at the young bastard. He hurries to help with the caravan of wagons and horses that will form a column leaving through the hunter's gate, following the road until it joins the King's Road northward.
"Jon, I think we're ready. The horses are prepared, the wagons are secured, and we've loaded all the necessary supplies: food, water for the journey."
"Yes, Jory, I think we're ready."
"Good, do a check of all your personal belongings before we depart. You wouldn't want to be without your tent or your knife, right?"
"No, Jory."
With that, the captain of the guard, and probably the one in charge of keeping Robb out of trouble and therefore keeping me out of trouble, leaves me to finish the final preparations for our journey. I head to the horse that I will use for the duration of the journey. In its saddle is my tent and other gear. I check that everything is in order and that nothing is missing.
"Jon, Jon."
I turn my head to see that Robb is the one calling me. He approaches in a quick but sure step until he reaches my side.
"Jon, father is calling. He wants to talk to us before we leave. Come, he is at the head of the caravan."
"Alright, brother, I'll follow you. Lead the way."
I follow him to the head. He is a little taller than me, his hair red like the color of rubies and his eyes blue like the rivers of the land from where his maternal family comes, all these characteristics of House Tully of Lady Catelyn, his mother. I and our father have the classic characteristics of House Stark: dark hair, elongated faces, and eyes the color of steel, although Robb shares the shape of his face with us, there is no doubt who his father is.
"Robb, Jon, come here. I want to talk before we go."
"What do you think he wants to talk to us about?"
"The usual," I reply to Robb.
He was right, the same speech about how we represent House Stark, about how we must ensure that our behavior reflects not only on us and our house but also on the people around us and who serve us. To him by antonomasia and to us, well, to Robb really. With this done, he ordered us to say goodbye to our sisters and brothers, and Robb to his lady mother.
The little wolf and Bran were still upset they couldn't come, Sansa as usual. She kept her distance from me; I suppose it's for the best. And Lady Catelyn has no warm words for me, but neither cold, an air of indifference. I suppose this is preferable.
Once everything is ready, we mount our horses and set off: my father, Jory, Robb, I, and the 30 mounted guards, and the 3 wagons with food and supplies for the journey, all through the hunter's gate towards the King's Road, heading north.
The wolf's forest, king's road
The forest is both ancient and beautiful: ancient trees and new pines, oaks that stretch towards the almost endless sky, rising towards the dome of the firmament full of twinkling lights that illuminate this dark night. And I wonder, is there something beyond up there? Maybe someone looking in our direction, wondering the same. Well, I'll never know, maybe in my next life.
On one side of the King's Road, we stopped to camp. Jory thinks that in about three more days we will be entering Brandon's Gift and from there to the mountains it will only be a couple more hours.
"Jon, come, let me introduce you to Owen."
Owen of Clan Norrey, he and a small guard of riders were sent to guide us through the mountains. He is a minor member of his clan, so he had no problem with my bastardy, unlike other lords who would have perceived it as a veiled insult because Robb treats me as his brother despite our positions.
The mountains, the north
I can already see them in the distance, a chain of mountains forming on the horizon where the clans live and build their homes. The sunset is already almost upon us, so another night sleeping under the open sky; tomorrow we will be at our first stop.
Robb and Owen Norrey are chatting as we follow. We are here now, just a couple of hours, at least that's what Owen said, to reach the ancestral home of the Norrey clan.
Only here can one appreciate the immensity of my ancestors' land: the mountain connects with the endless plains where, according to ancient books, giants roamed and their herds of hairy mammoths, the same ones Bran used to build the Wall.
But what strikes me the most is the silence. I close my eyes and all I can hear is silence. I take in the clean mountain air, smelling of earth, grass, and snow. I just listen.
"What's that? It's like a stone sliding over another."
I can't explain it, the sound draws me, I have to follow it.
"Jon, where the hell do you think you're going?"
"Robb, I heard something, I have to go see what it is, it won't take me long."
Our eyes met and I don't know what he saw in mine, but after a moment he let out a sigh of frustration.
"Go, but... Owen, follow my brother to where he heard that noise, of course, Lord Robb."
"Jon, I hope this is worth it, follow me; these mountains can be dangerous if you don't know where you're going."
I nod and follow Owen towards the trail where I heard the sound like two stones sliding against each other, until it stops to give way to a sound that I have never heard in my life.
As we descend the trail towards a small clearing that ends at the foot of the mountains, the sound reappears and this time it can be heard quite clearly to the ear.
"By the gods, Jon, you were right, I can hear it; it's coming from the end of that clearing, let's hurry."
Before I can say anything, Owen is almost in the clearing, so I hurry to follow him along the trail that is clearly used by the animals of the area to move between the mountains and valleys of this mountain range.
Near the middle of the clearing, all sound stops for a moment and then the slope connected to the clearing literally explodes in a cloud of dust and debris. I just manage to pull Owen back to the ground, covering him. There is dust and debris everywhere. When it clears enough to see the slope of the mountain connected to the clearing, there is a cave created by the explosion; it is small, almost a perfect circle, one foot high from the ground.
Inside it, you can see a blue light like water suspended in the air, a perfect circle. But once the dust clears from the air, it is clear that a ring of stone or metal contains it a few steps away, and a little to the left of the ring you can see a pedestal half buried with a huge jewel on top.
I quickly get up to approach the strange phenomenon, a machine really I don't know.
"Jon, where in the seven hells are you going? We must go back, call Lord Stark; I don't even know what this is."
I take Owen by the shoulders to try to calm him down.
"Owen, look at me. Breathe in, out. Now, deeper. In, out. Go to my lord father and tell him we don't know anything yet, we must investigate."
Seeing Owen's color return to his body, I encourage him to follow me. We approach the strange phenomenon little by little; it moves as if a child had thrown a stone into a still pond, and where there was nothing before, there are now what appear to be three small people from the Summer Isles.
I look at Owen, who has the same look of bewilderment as me, and I can only say one word aloud.
"Seven hells."
Owen Norrey's POV.
My dad always used to tell me about the legends and myths from the North, but this is beyond anything the old gods ever cooked up.
"What are we going to do now?"
The young bastard makes a "why are you asking me?" face for a second, then does exactly what he told me to do a minute ago to calm down.
"Well, first let's try making contact; maybe they know something we don't."
As he says this, he points in the general direction of where the machine, or object, is located near the three from the summer islands. It seems they're just as confused as we are, judging by their expressions. Jon starts moving toward the group that's still inside the small cave created by the device. In the clearing, the dust has settled on the ground clearing the air, and rocks of all sizes are scattered everywhere in a fan shape.
"Jon wait, how do you know they aren't dangerous? Maybe they're armed and, once we get close enough, they'll attack us."
"Owen, look at them, they don't seem very aggressive; in fact, they look just as puzzled as we are."
Jon was right, the three were discussing in low, calm tones among themselves, but you could see the nervous tension on the surface. At some point, the blue, sea-like sheet, for lack of a better description, which was suspended in the object's frame, was no longer partially darkening the cave and its inhabitants.
"Okay, but I'll go first, you cover my back; anything happens, I've got you and you run like you've seen a White Walker. Deal, Jon?"
"But, Owen."
He grabs the fool by the shoulders, picturing exactly what's going through his mind at that moment. Throughout the journey, it was obvious that he was carrying a heavy load of insecurity about his uncertain future back home, most likely due to his precarious position. But from what I've seen of his interactions with his brother and Lord Stark, I can't imagine the latter doesn't have something planned for him.
"Jon, look at me, if anything happens to you, gods protect us, it's the Night's Watch or the Block for me. Before you try to tell me you're just a bastard, horse shit! Throughout the journey I've seen how your father treats you; it's clear you're as important to him as Robb, remember, kid, just because you're not a Stark doesn't mean you're not of the blood of winter, and the North remembers."
The young man, listens to me with his head down then looks up a moment later with determination in his eyes and nods. With that, we set out; the ground was full of debris from the sudden explosion that created the small cave at its base, we didn't stop and with one hand in the air and the other on the hilt of my sword I call out to the cave dwellers.
Owen: "HEY! ARE YOU OKAY? WE WANT TO PARLEY?"
The three quickly turn toward us, surprised, they look at each other having a wordless conversation and moments later, apparently the eldest of the three leads with the two younger ones behind him and they start coming out of the artificial cave slowly.
"Let's take a few steps back to give them room to come out."
We take about four steps back trying not to trip over the rocks, creating a gap between us and the strangers emerging from the cave who now that the daylight bathes them more clearly appear to be dressed more like us than like islanders: leather pants, wool tunics, leather boots, and various accessories on wrists, necks, and ears made of different materials including metals like bronze, copper, and silver, and animal leathers; the three share the same physical features: dark skin, flat and broad noses, dark eyes, thick lips, very short curly dark hair, and we match in height. Standing face to face, I realize this moment could be either the most important or the dumbest thing I've ever done; at least I don't see any visible swords or weapons, but who's to say they don't have hidden weapons? So, I say a quick prayer to the old gods and get ready to make contact.