Mark_Ward
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Chapter 1: Man Grown
🕑 Added 2020-08-10 14:53:05 +0000 UTC
Today is the day that Jon Snow reached his sixteenth name day.
Today he is a man grown.
Yet here he was within these cold, dreary walls of Winterfell, where he never truly belonged.
Jon knew he had it much better than most bastards. Lord Eddard Stark had always treated him like his son, he got along with most of his half-siblings, the servants and men at arms treated him kindly and with respect, and his father's vassals saw him as one of Lord Eddard Stark true born sons.
Yet he never truly belonged here.
Lady Catelyn, that trout always saw him as a bastard and made it very clear the dislike she held for him. Her daughter Sansa was already following in her footsteps thanks to that Septon pulling all that stuff inside her head.
Still that was just icing on the cake, all that stuff was just superficial matter since it didn't really matter to him at all. No, now that he was a man grown he started to look outward, and it was clear that his future was very bleak.
When he was born and given the surname of Snow, for there on out he would always be the lesser child born from lust, lies, and weakness. He would never inherit anything whether it be a castle, gold, or name, not get to marry any noblemen's daughter, may not use the coat of arms of his House, and have much lesser rights and privileges than most men.
The only options that were left for him was to become a sellsword and live by the sword's edge in some foreign land far, far away. Become a knight, yet here in the North knighthood was barely acknowledged and who in the south would he squire under. Then the next option waiting for him was to become a Maester and he had no problem becoming a learned man, yet who the hell wants to become a celibate? Last but not least was to join the Night's Watch there he could rise high and become Lord Commander, yet the once esteem order had fallen so low that it is full of rapists and thieves.
Here he is now stuck in those walls of a place that is his home yet not at the same time.
That is why today he came to a decision which was long in the making. By first light he will be heading out and traveling south to the Citadel. There he could join the order since he already had his letter of acceptance from Maester Luwin. Then he could start moving up the ranks of Novices and Acolytes and forge his links.
After that, he won't be swearing his vows, but instead, be traveling to Essos to become a sellsword. With all the knowledge he gained from the Citadel he might be safely able to make his way in the world and who knows he could make something out of himself.
Already he had his gear and horse packed and saddled ready to hit the road, plus he had 10 gold dragons saved up from all the work he did in the forge.
Now all that was left was tell his father.
Walking up the flights of stairs to his father's solar, two men-at-arms greeted him at the landing to the solar room then Ser Rorik himself opened the door for him and Jon entered.
Walking the door silently closed behind him and join stood still as his father poured over the parchments laid out before him. Lord Eddard Stark had the same long face that all Northerns use to have, the cold grey eyes that all Starks are known for, and thick dark brown hair.
If put side to side, Jon and his little sister Arya Stark where the ones that resembled their lord father the most. However, Jon did pick put some dissimilarities like the high cheeks bones he had, lighter skin tone, slender figure, eyes with a lilac shade in the sun, and many smaller things.
There were many theories that the servants and men-at-arms liked to throw around about who his mother was. Some think it was a camp-follower from during Robert's Rebellion, others think a Lysine prostitute the finest and best whore around and one fitting for a lord. Most though think it was a high born lady and the most likely was a woman named Ashara Dayne.
That was the tale that most believe in and nearest to the truth as some would assume.
Finally looking up from his parchments, Lord Stark took notice of his base-born son and greeted, "Jon. What brings you here?"
"Lord Father," the young man greeted back as he inclined his head, "Today is my name day."
"Oh, yes," the older man simply said as he had a far off look. then quickly coming back to himself, he looked up and down his son, and stated, "You are man grown now."
"Yes," Jon answered, "and I came to tell you that I will be leaving."
"What?!" Lord Stark exclaimed
"Yes," Jon continued, not noticing the expression on his father's face."I plan on going south to the Citadel to forge a few links. Then I head to Essos and sign up from a sellsword company."
Cutting him off right then and there, his lord father waved his hand and uttered, "I won't allow it."
Freezing his place Jon looked and faced his father his face was hard set and fixed in his way. There was no denying that his father was an honorable man, who was just and incorruptible. yet it is his honor that brought him away from his mother who no matter what would have loved him. It is his honor that prevents him from saying or doing anything when his lady wife sneers down at him and belittle him.
There is no denying that honor would be the death of his father because he is so set in his way he could never see outside the box.
"What do you mean, no?" Jon demanded as he looked at his father incredulously.
"No, mean no, son. Now get those foolish thoughts out of your head and go to Maester Luwin for your lessons."
"Foolish," Jon shouted as he screamed uproariously and for the first time losing his temper with his lord father. "Is that what you think it is, huh? That I have silly fancies. HA, you might think lord father," Jon spat out, "but they are my only way out this fucking loathsome life. I am a bastard, I have nothing to my name except for what I make with my own hands. And here I would never make anything out of myself. I would always be your bastard. Your mistake!"
Face turning icy cold, "That is not true, son. You could always make something of yourself here in your home. You have family here, people who care for you."
"Ha," Jon chuckled as his face contorted into something ugly, "You father have always been a legitimate son. You can never understand what I have to go through day in and day out. So please do not preach to me about what you do not!"
"Enough," Lord Eddard shouted as he held out his hand. "This matter is finished. You will stay, you will stay. That's it."
"You seem to forget, lord father, I am Man Grown. I have reached adulthood. I could do what I wish with my life and you have no say in it."
Getting up from his seat in one brisk motion, the chair crashed down to the floor behind him, but his father paid no attention to that. "You will NEVER be going South. Your place is here!"
Facing his father head-on, Jon refused to back down and simply snarled, "stop me then."
Staring at his son for a few hard moments, his father turned to face the door and shouted, "Ser Rodrik!"
Entering was the Master-at-arms the same old man that stood at his father's door and opened the door for him.
"Yes, my lord?" the loyal man asked as he bowed his head.
"See to it that my son finds his way to his rooms and post some guards at his door so that he could say there. You can only come up for dinner."
"So what, I am to be your prisoner," Jon growled.
Not turning to look at him, his father continued to address Ser Rodrik, "and see to it that you bring Maester Luwin up here, I will have a few words with him."
"I will see to it personally, my lord," the old blade intoned. Then reaching out, he grabbed on to Jon's shoulder, and even with his aging body, the man still had a strong vice like grip.
"Let be on our way, boy," Ser Rodrik uttered to him as he dragged him along like a little child.
Wanting to get the last word in no matter what, Jon shouted to his father. "You have ruined my life once before when you couldn't keep it in your loincloth. Now you want to ruin it again by keeping me trapped in here?!"
Finally turning to face him, his father's icy, cold gaze seemed to have softened a bit and a haunted, grief full expression passed by his face."You may never understand it, son, but I do all this own safety and care."
"Fuck you," Jon shouted, too angry to even take notice of anything as he spewed profanity all the way out the door, across the hallway, and down the stairs. It was only when he was got to his room that he started to calm down. and realized where he was.
"Are you finished?" Ser Rodrik asked right before his door.
Glumly saying nothing, Jon crossed his across his chest like a petulant child and stood still where he was.
Chuckling silently the old man swung his door open and pushed him into his room. "Your Lord Father's commands where clear, you are staying there until its dinner, boy. So make yourself comfortable and no funny business from you."
Closing the door shut, Jon heard as the older man shout, "You two. Yes, you two come here. Make sure that the little lordling stays in his room. He could only come out when the Lord's family is having supper."
With that, Jon heard as the loyal knight clink way in his heavy plate armor and his sword belt bouncing against his chain mail.
Straightening himself, Jon rearranged his clothing in proper order and had a look around his room. It was a nice and tidy place, however, it was far away from the House corridors as Lady Catelyn made it to be. Just another reminder of his station in life and that he never would be truly legitimate.
Sighing, Jon made his way to his harp which laid tucked away in at his window sill. It was a beautiful musical instrument that he loved to be on his off hours and it always calmed him down.
It was going to be one of the last things he would have collected when he told his father he was leaving. But now that seems to be never happening.
Picking up the instrument and seating himself at the window sill, Jon highly tapped the harp to get a feel for it. Then he begin.
The first song he started with was Jenny's song a sorrowful song about a misfortunate girl. Still, he loved that song as it sort of reminded him of his miserable life.
Starting off with sorrowful tone, Hon's finger's ran across the strings as he set the mood. Then he began to sing. Jon never sang before anyone, but once, long ago a maid walked into his room while he was singing and she stood star stuck, frozen in her place and when he turned to face her he swore he saw her crying.
Still he kept his small talent to himself since he really didn't have anyone to please or show off to.
Singing out loud the song, Jon let the music wash over him as it took any all his anger and sorrow away until he was left blank. All that remained was the music, and the music along.
After he finished that song, Jon began with The Burning of the Ships. A song about Brandon the Burner, a King in the North from long ago who burned away all their ships when his father got lost at sea.
Jon let the passionate song wash over him as he could feel the burning rage in the song even if Brandon the Burnerc was the one who weakened the North and open it up to Ironborn raiders and rapists.
After that Jon picked another song, then another, until time blurred away and he felt only the songs and his harp.
Suddenly he heard knocking at his door and Jon came out of his every, and turned to face the door. Curious as to why he was being disturbed when his father made it clear he couldn't be, Jon walked up to the door.
Opening it, the young man came face to face with a household guard, most likely one of the men that Ser Rodrik posted at his door. "Yes," Jon inquired of the man.
"My lord, it is supper time, and you are required at the hall."
"I am no lord, good man," Jon answered. Then turning to look at his window, Jon muttered, "is it already this late?"
"Yes," the man answered with a nod.
"Well then I must be on my way," Jon said as he flattened the creases on his clothing. Closing the door behind him, Jon made to head out, but the other guard called out to him.
"My lord."
"Yes," Jon answered even though he did not like being called a lord since he was the lord of nothing and never would be.
"That was some wonderful singing, my lord. I... I never heard that before," the man said as he wiped at the corner of his eyes and sniffed his nose.
"Thank you," Jon said as he nodded his head to the man. With that, he made his way to the meal he never wanted to come.
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Walking into the Hall, Jon already saw that everyone was there. Silently making his way over, Jon sat himself at the far corner, away from Lady Catelyn and her distaste.
Sitting down in his seat, Jon tried his best not to look in his father's direction and arranged his napkin over his lap. With that, a servant made her way over and poured him some food.
Thanking the woman, Jon broke his bread and silently got started on his meal. Abruptly, Jon felt an elbow jab into his ribs and he turned to face the offender.
Coming face to face with his favorite little sister, Jon looked at Arya Stark questionable. Of thirteen summers, Arya was a strong and feisty who has more interest in fighting and exploration than in lady-like activities. She shared the same features as him with dark brown hair, a long face, and grey eyes. She also had a slender and athletic figure more generally mistaken for a boy.
However, she was slowly growing into womanhood as her bust started to grow out and her hair reach further down.
"Is it true that you were trying to leave and become a sellsword?"
Looking at her surprisingly, Jon asked "How did you find out about that?"
Pulling herself up to her full height as she looked at him proudly, Arya answered, "I have my own sources."
Chuckling silently, Jon shook his head, and uttered, "You cheeky little brat. Ha!"
Becoming more serious now, the young lass looked at him with laser focus and muttered, "Why did you try to take me with you, Jon?"
Freezing in place, Jon really had no answer to give. What was he to say? That she will forever be stuck here until she would be married off.
However he didn't have to as his Lord father spoke up to him, "Jon."
"Yes, Lord Father," the young man answered as he stood rigid.
"You will be left off with only a warning this time, but if I find you trying to sneak off then you will be assigned to your rooms indefinitely. Am I clear."
Knowing that there would be no point in arguing with his father, Jon simply nodded his head and answered, "Yes, Lord Father." It would be best to bide his time and run away when his father let his guard down.
"Good," his father said with a nod, "I will be leaving you with your supplies and gold..."
"You dig into my stuff," Jon shouted incredulously.
Giving him a blank stare, his father said nothing but gaze down at him with his cold grey eyes. Eyes that always make a man feel so small and insignificant.
"Gold dragons?" Lady Catelyn asked cutting off the silent that prevailed the whole hall. "Where did he get that from? Did he steal it?"
"That is enough from you," his father said to his lady wife turning his gaze towards her.
Quickly shutting up since his father didn't seem to be in a talking mood. Everyone carried on with their meal silently and without a peep. Even Arya knew better than to say anything.
With that, the meal drew to a close and everyone was dismissed once his lord father got up and excused himself.
Getting up, Jon made to leave lastly when everyone got up since as Lady Catelyn put it, it would be far above his station to leave before legitimate children.
Walking out the large wooden doors, Jon saw Robb who must of held himself back to talk to him. Robb was everything a lord was supposed to be with his wide smiles, stocky build, blue eyes and thick red-brown hair.
