The quiet solitute of the godswood was interrupted by a young man. Dressed in a black doublet and breeches and a fur cloak, Jon Targaryen made his way to the pool by which the weirwood tree stood.
Why is he coming here? Here? Is there not one place I can find untainted by sour memories? He looked up at the sky, scowling.
If he's coming, then that means the rest of them are coming as well. My dear sweet sister and my loving stepmother. My attentive and caring father. And it wouldn't be complete without their Martell and Lannister cronies would it?
Jon loved it here in the North, in Winterfell.
The place, the weather, and most of all the people.
His uncle, Lord Eddard Stark, whose stern demeanor hid an immensely kind heart. Lady …show more content…
Domeric Bolton, Cley Cerwyn, and Daryn Hornwood. His closest friends. They were the ones who understood him, the only people who he knew would always be there for him.
Jon looked upon the solemn face of the weirwood tree and knelt, sighing.
When he had been sent away from King's Landing to live in Winterfell all those years ago, many including himself had viewed it as punishment for fighting with the Greyjoy ward, Theon.
Instead it had been the single best decision his father had ever made for him. He had arrived here at the age of ten namedays, with only Ser Oswell Whent as company.
He had arrived frightened and hurting, but from the very first day, the Starks greeted him with open arms and that had never changed. For nearly eight years, life had been good.
It was a change from the way Rhaenys used to spitefully pull his hair, or pinch him, calling him names and telling him that he should be thanking the gods that the King had decided to acknowledge the bastard of his whore as a legitimate son. It was a change from Viserys sneering at him from the shadows, calling him bastard and often beating him up when he walked …show more content…
Any more and all that progress Daryn and I have made on him for the last six years will go up in smoke!
"What's eating at you this time, Dragon?" he asked
"Nothing, Robb." Jon trudged on, not giving away anything more.
"Are you sure? That frown certainly didn't come on its own," Robb teased his cousin.
"Frowning is what people do when they think of immense things, dear cousin."
"What's that?" Robb asked innocently.
"Oh, thinking? It means using the brain to wonder at the events of life. Something you can try,you know."
"Would it get me any girls? I noticed that it doesn't work for you."
"Oh go chase a maid for a kiss, Stark. You're never going to get it, you know." Jon's mouth was now slightly curved. He was amused.
"Is that the best you can do? I heard worse from Daryn and Hodor," Robb jeered.
"Hodor can't even say anything besides his own name, Wolf," Jon said, smirking as he did so.
"That's the point. He's still more articulate than you."
"Articulate, now that's a big word. You sure you didn't hurt yourself coming up with that, Stark?" Jon asked his cousin.
"I can come up with something simpler if you like: dimwit."
"Describe dimwit, Robb."
"In two words? " Robb asked with a triumphant grin on his face. He had caught Jon