The Journeys of Jon Snow
Book 1: Chapter 1
First Steps Into A Larger World: The Sanctuary
Jon Snow was running. Running through the frozen land of The North and away from Winterfell, away from Home. As the young boy of only ten namedays old ran, oblivious to the fact that in his terror he was running faster and longer than a man twice his age and conditioning could achieve, he thought back to how he had gotten here.
Four Hours Earlier
"WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE"
"WINTERFELL"
"Ow, my head!"
Jon Snow rubbed his head after having been tackled to the ground during one of the greatest battles Winterfell's courtyard had ever seen…at least in the current children of the castle's lifetime. The Bastard of Winterfell looked up to see his brother, Robb Stark, offering a hand up, while their Father's ward, Theon Greyjoy snickered off to the side.
"Come on Jon, I need you to have my back when I kick Theon's butt!" Robb exclaimed, readying his wooden sword.
The boys were training under the eyes of Fat Tom, who was filling in for the Master-At-Arms, Ser Rodrik Cassell, who was with Robb and Jon's father, Lord Eddard Stark, dealing with an issue with House Mormont of Bear Island. Nobody knew exactly how long Lord Stark would be gone, as from what little the children had been told a new ruler of Bear Island would need to be installed after the current Lord, Ser Jorah, had committed terrible crimes and faced execution by their father.
Lord Stark had left a fortnight ago, and since then Jon had made himself scarce other than training. While his Father's Lady Wife, Catelyn Stark nee Tully, had not been cruel to Jon, it had been clear she had no interest in dealing with him any more than she had to. So, Jon made sure to take diligent care in his lessons and chores, before making the best of the situation and enjoying the freedom of being left to his own devices for the most part, so long as he did not cause trouble.
Already, Jon had found three new secret passages around Winterfell, including one that led up from near the barracks to behind a tapestry in his Father's Study.
'I feel a little guilty about not telling Robb, but I think I'll keep some of this stuff to myself for now,' Jon thought. It gave him a little bit of satisfaction that he now knew secrets of Winterfell that Robb did not. Besides he had had little opportunity to speak privately with his brother. Some time after Lord Stark had arrived home from the Greyjoy Rebellion three years prior, with a scowling Theon as his hostage and ward, Jon's Brother had begun to drift away and connect with the older youth.
While Robb and Theon had formed a fast friendship, the relationship between Jon and the Ironborn boy was as frosty as Jon's name. He had never been one to make friends easily, constantly on guard for what he felt was the inevitable slight, whether real or imagined. Theon on the other hand, was happy to lash out at whomever he could during his forced time in Winterfell. While it would be foolish to make an enemy of Lord Stark's Heir, it was less so with his bastard.
It didn't hurt that Robb was just so easy to like, he had a charisma that drew people to his friendship in a way Jon never could.
Still, for all that charm and force of personality, Robb was unable to make his half-brother and new friend do better than barely tolerate one another.
Which brings us back to the training yard.
After the three-way brawl training had descended into, the Winterfell guards had broken the fight up so their substitute Master-At-Arms could get back to teaching them through one-on-one spars.
"Come on then Snow, let's have another round," Theon said, with a cocky smirk. The teenager had four namedays on Jon and Robb and while more lean than muscular, his arms were strong from practicing with the longbow in addition to the sword.
'He's also quick with a trick,' Jon thought to himself, remembering their last match when Theon had tossed dirt at his eyes before following up with a flurry of blows that had left the younger boy bruised and seething.
Now, with almost all of Winterfell watching the practice, even Lady Stark who held three-year-old Bran, while his sisters Sansa and Arya peered over the railing of the covered bridge, Jon was eager to even the score against Theon and embarrass him by having a 10-name-day old boy kick his arse.
Grabbing his practice sword and shield, something flickered at the back of his mind, and it felt as if a silent voice was urging him not to use the shield.
"Are you alright Jon?" Fat Tom asked from the center of the dueling ring.
"Yeah, I'm ready," Jon called back, setting down the shield. If Ser Rodrick had been there he would have chewed him out for not bringing it, but Fat Tom just frowned and let him go.
Robb had a puzzled look on his face, not knowing what his half-brother was up to, while Theon just smirked at what he thought would be an easy victory.
The two settled into their stances and nodded when Tom asked them if they were ready to go. As he brought his hand down, Theon jumped into action, coming in and feinting to Jon's left before shifting for a stab to his right, which was easily parried aside, before Jon settled into a stance he hadn't practiced before but felt oddly natural to him, one foot in front of the other with both hands holding the sword low with the point coming up to Theon's face.
Jon frowned. He knew Theon had come in quick, but it was also as if he had moved slowly, allowing Jon to counter without much trouble. The silent nagging had also returned, and it was as if it was telling him that Theon's initial move had been a mere feint. Shrugging to himself, Jon decided arguing with the voice in his head would be crazier, especially if it was working.
Theon looked irritated his victory had not come as easily as he had expected. He quickly launched a series of blows, going for Jon's side, his arms, and his legs, but all were parried or dodged.
If he had been irritated before, he was now incandescent with rage as he decided to forgo style for brute force, bringing down his sword as if he were splitting a log, aiming for Jon's collarbone.
'NOW' The Voice yelled to Jon and he ducked under and around the strike before it could land, spinning as he did so to build up momentum for his own attack,
The strike hit Theon in the back. While knightly armor would deflect even a real sword blow there, the strike and Theon's own momentum from his attack combined to send the Greyjoy heir face first into the dirt. Jon quickly followed up by planting his foot on his opponent's back and the tip of his sword at the nape of Theon's neck.
"Yield Theon." Jon said firmly, trying not to show that he was relishing the victory.
Theon grumbled but accepted his defeat, albeit with little grace, swatting away the victor's hand when Jon tried to help him up. Jon scowled, before turning to walk away and put his weapon away, training done for the day.
"No one likes a sore loser Greyjoy," He said without looking back at the defeated lordling.
"No one likes a bastard either Snow." Theon replied vindictively, spitting at the ground behind Jon, who only acknowledged the insult by pausing and clenching his fist, before moving on.
Unfortunately, Theon was not done and he began following the boy.
"What's the matter Bastard? If you're so upset maybe you should go cry to your mother. Oh wait, I'm sorry, she didn't want you either and probably got rid of you the second she could." He taunted, getting closer to Jon.
"Shut up." Jon growled between gritted teeth, trying not to show that Theon had definitely struck a nerve.
"Theon…" Robb warned from where he was putting away his gear, not liking where this conversation was going. However, Theon was never one to listen to good advice.
"You think I'm lying Snow? Tell you what, when I leave Winterfell and do my fair share of sailing, I'll keep an eye out for her. It should be easy to do when I stop into the brothels."
Distantly, Jon was aware of Robb sucking in a breath at that insult. In fact it was almost like he knew how everyone in the courtyard was reacting to the show. From Sansa's shock to Arya's anger at Theon insulting her favorite brother to Lady Stark and almost everyone else being very uncomfortable with how this was going. Still, that was something to worry about later, right now he just wanted to kill a squid.
"I said shut up Theon," Jon growled out. He had now turned around and stared down the other boy, and he was so angry he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Theon just sneered and pushed him back.
"I don't take orders from you, bastard."
And that's when Jon snapped.
He went to shove Theon with a shout but before his hands even made contact, Greyjoy was thrown 30 feet away into an archery target, tipping it over as he went ass over teakettle. The teen struggled to get up before slumping back down with a groan.
You could hear a pin drop in the normally hectic courtyard as Jon looked at his shaking hands before taking in his surroundings. He was horrified to see that everyone was looking at him with a mixture of shock…and not an unnoticeable amount of fear.
"Jon…" Robb whispered moving toward his brother.
But Jon was not about to wait around for whatever happened next. As fast as he could he took off running, slipping through the gates and out of the castle. Where he was going, the Bastard of Winterfell had no idea.
We Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Story
Finally, Jon's legs gave out and he collapsed in a pile, only now realizing how bad a situation he was in. He had only the clothes he wore, no food, no equipment other than a knife, and he was in the middle of nowhere, having not paid attention to where he was running.
Jon found himself in craggy, hilly terrain, to his left was an uneven cliff face, dotted with caves and alcoves, to his right was a steep drop off, leading down to woods and a river below. As Jon looked over the edge, a rock rolled from behind him and past his foot, before speeding down the hillside. Eventually, after it took a number of hops from the speed it was going, Jon lost sight of it.
'Gulp' Jon sucked his Adam's Apple into his throat before moving back from the edge and deciding to focus his attention on his other side.
Suddenly, the tingling in the back of his head was back, urging him to go toward a specific hole in the granite cliffside.
"No." Jon said, his voice echoing in the silence of the land. "I'm in enough trouble as it is thanks to you. No more listening to…whatever it is you are."
The presence seemed almost offended before urging him even harder to the opening.
"Fine, I'm sorry, I'll check out the rocks. What do I have to lose any way," Jon sighed as he walked toward the rocks. Listening to the tingling, he brushed his hand over the wall.
"Ouch!" Jon cried as his hand was cut on the rocks, a bit of his blood smearing red against the stone. "Stupid rocks, stupid tingle, wait…"
A section of rock in front of Jon the size of a doorway began to glow, before sinking into the earth below. The dark tunnel that was revealed did not stay dark for long as a series of lights sprang to life, showing the corridor to be made of metal.
If Jon didn't know any better he would say the presence directed him to go inside almost smugly.
After he entered the tunnel, the entrance closed back up, leaving onward the only way to go. Shortly after Jon began traveling down the passage he reached a bend, which curved into an entrance to a massive room.
The place was as big as Winterfell's main yard, empty except for a weirdly shaped metal building in the center. It was in the shape of a U, but with another hall jutting out of the center, connected to the right side by metal. Two metal tunnels poked out from the back, while the whole structure sat on metal supports poking out from its belly.
Jon stared slack-jawed at it. So many questions ran through his mind. What in the name of the Old Gods and The New was this? How had it been built? Who had left it here and why?
So focused was he on what he was looking at, that Jon failed to notice he was not alone in this place.
Suddenly, he felt something poking the back of his head.
"Command: Do not move little meatbag. Who are you and how did you get in here?"
The voice was sounded weird and grating, only increasing Jon's terror. Was this person going to kill him? Is this how he was going to die, without anyone ever knowing what had happened to Eddard Stark's poor little bastard son?
"My name is Jon Snow sir. I'm sorry for entering your home, but I just touched my hand against the wall outside and it opened up." Jon spoke very fast and nervously. Suddenly, the man grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, at which point Jon realized this was not really a man, he wasn't sure what he was.
The thing had bronze metal skin like armor, but from what Jon could see underneath there was no flesh under the armor, only more metal. His face was the oddest Jon had ever seen with a rectangular snout and glowing yellow eyes. Despite speaking energetically, there was no visible mouth that moved.
"Celebration: The child of the master! I can't believe it has already been so long! He's gone from a tiny meatbag to a…slightly larger meatbag!" The metal man continued on and on for a while, before Jon nervously spoke up.
"Excuse me sir, but who are you? And you called me the 'child of the master' how do you know my father, Lord Eddard Stark?"
The thing looked down at Jon and tilted his head before answering. "Clarification: I am HK-47, a droid programmed for combat and assassination. Though I also do a little translating on the side. As for your second question, I only know Eddard Stark as the lover of my master. To be honest, I always found him to be rather boring with his ideas of honor and –"
"I'm sorry HK-47 sir, but are you saying you worked…for my mother?"
The droid, whatever that was, tilted his head again before replying.
"Answer: Yes master, I served your mother, Satele Shan, named after a famous ancestor of yours. In fact, I have served your family for a very, very long time, going back to my creator, Revan."
At this point, Jon had to sink to the floor and sit down. This was too much too fast. Nowhere in his wildest dreams was this ever a possibility when the boy had laid in bed and wondered if he had any other family, besides the Starks, in the world.
'Satele Shan. My mother's name was Satele Shan.' Jon though, rolling the name in his mind. It sounded right, as though he had finally found a piece to a puzzle that fit just right. As he pondered what had been said, another droid rolled up to him.
This one was in the shape of a cylinder with a dome on top. The thing rolled around on two limbs which jutted out from its sides. Most of it was white as snow, but panels and sections all over it were painted black. Multi-colored lights shined from what Jon assumed was its face.
The thing shifted from one leg to another and let out a series of warbles and chirps Jon could only assume were happy.
"Hi there little guy, what's your name?" He asked the droid. It was HK-47 that answered however.
"Statement: This is R2-M8, an astromech droid, he does not speak meatbag languages master," HK was interrupted by the new droid however, who warbled angrily at him "Answer: No I will not stop calling meatbags, meatbags you glorified multi-tool. And don't take that tone with me, I've been operating since before your programming was written."
Once again, M8 sent a series of warbles at HK-47, before turning back to Jon and chirping excitedly.
"Translation: Master, the bucket of bolts has a recording from your mother he would like to show you, may he play it?"
A message from his mother! Jon numbly nodded, too shocked to say anything else at this point. M8 scooted away from Jon before a beam of light was projected in front of where the boy sat. A blue image of a beautiful woman with long, dark hair appeared. She had a sad smile on her face as she looked at Jon and began to speak.
"My Son, if you are seeing this message then my fears have come true and I am unable to return to you. As I am recording this you have just been born three weeks ago, and already you are the light of my life! But I am needed elsewhere. I hope that by the time you are seeing this the War is over and you may live in peaceful times, but to make that a reality I must fight to make it one. To be a Jedi is to place the needs of others, the needs of the galaxy, above your own happiness. And so I place my trust in your Father, that he has raised you to be the man I know you can be.
And I hope that although I am not there, I can still leave tools to help you grow. This outpost contains much that will be needed to begin your training in the ways of The Force and so much more. And I trust M8 and HK to help you along the way. If you do decide to seek to take the path of the Jedi, then seek out Master Skywalker, the Jedi Master who taught me. He will guide you.
I know this will be agonizing, to learn that I can never return to you, but know that if I have died than I have become One With The Force, and so as The Force is with you always, so am I. And above all else, know that I love you my son, now and always."
And with that, the message flickered out.