đWEEKLY POWER GOALS đ
đ„ 30â2ch | 60â5ch | 100â8ch | 200â15ch | 400â25ch
â° Resets Monday!
~~~~ââ~~~~~~~~ââ~~~~
Winterfell had changed.
The air no longer held just cold and quiet.
Insteadâexcitement, tension, anticipation. A clamor.
The King was coming.
The news swept through every corner of the castle like wind.
In the kitchens, bread baked around the clock. The smithy's forge burned all nightâhammering never ceased.
Guards polished every piece of armor. Servant women rushed through corridors with piles of clean linen, footsteps quick and scattered.
Catelyn Stark was the storm's center.
Like a tireless queen bee, she coordinated the entire castle with precise, stern commands.
"The best batch of ale from the cellars!"
"Replace all guest room sheetsâlavender-scented!"
"Tell the stable boys to scrub every horse for the King's retinue. Not one stray hair!"
Her voice echoed clearly through the courtyard. Everything organized perfectly. A capable woman.
But deep in those Tully blue eyesâworry she couldn't dispel.
Ned Stark stayed completely removed.
He didn't appear in the courtyard. Didn't oversee any preparations.
Just stayed alone in his study. Or went to the godswood.
That Valyrian steel greatsword Iceâhe wiped it again and again.
As if only this could bring his heart momentary peace.
Lynn sat on the steps leading to the armory, sensing these undercurrents.
Since the prophecy's confirmation, he was no longer a prisoner.
On the contraryâCatelyn and Ned treated him with courtesy.
Lynn had a warm room now. Three meals a dayâno longer black bread and cold water, but fresh soft bread and hot meat soup.
Even owned his own longsword.
All of itâearned with that bloody fight and mysterious prophecy.
Lynn's gaze crossed the busy courtyard. Landed on Theon Greyjoy practicing archery in the distance.
The Ironborn ward's face was full of excitement about meeting the King.
Named a wardâactually a hostage after that rebellion. But the Starks didn't treat him differently. Ned raised him like a son. Taught him manners, skills, and Stark loyalty.
Theon's archery form grew more flamboyant. Every arrow hit the bullseye. Drew cheers from nearby stable boys.
Theon enjoyed being the center of attention.
Unlike the Stark children, he couldn't feel the weight hidden beneath glory.
To this ward, it was just a grand feast.
Lynn looked away. He knewâbeneath this surface harmony, cracks already existed.
Just then, a figure entered the courtyard.
Jon Snow. He who knows nothing.
Wearing simple leather armor. Carrying a blunt practice sword. Walked silently toward a training dummy in the corner.
Didn't join Robb and Theon's side. Always like thisâhabitually choosing less conspicuous positions.
At that moment, Lady Catelyn emerged from the keep to inspect the stables.
Her gaze met Jon's in the air. Briefly.
Just an instant.
Catelyn's relatively mild expression froze.
All warmth vanished from those blue eyes. Only cold disgust remained.
She said nothing. Just turned slightly aside. Quickened her pace.
As if looking at Snow one more moment would taint her eyes.
Jon's body stiffened.
The sword he'd just raised stopped mid-air.
His expressionâlike winter wind had blown across it. All brightness dimmed.
He lowered his arm silently. Dropped his head. Black hair covered his eyes.
Lynn took it all in.
Catelyn's hatredâso naked, so undisguised.
In Westeros, bastards were noble families' public shame.
Their surnames unified: Snow in the North. Storm near Storm's End. Sand in the South...
Different by region, but locals knew immediately.
Jon's existence constantly reminded Catelyn of her husband's infidelity.
Men at war sometimes needed releaseâleaving bastards was normal. Catelyn understood that.
But raising him outside would be one thing. Ned raised him right under her nose.
And whenever she asked about Jon's mother, Ned would get angry with her.
She poured all her fury onto Jon.
Though she didn't abuse himâJon Snow grew up under Catelyn's cold stares.
The courtyard's clamor seemed irrelevant to Jon now.
He stood alone. Figure especially lonely.
Lynn watched it all.
Regarding Jon Snow as a characterâLynn mostly appreciated him.
The show version had flaws. Betrayed Ygritte. Killed Daenerys to prevent another Mad Queenâafter Tyrion's prompting. Betrayed his queen...
But Jon was straightforward. Loyal. A mixed character.
Lynn wouldn't forgetâJon drawing his sword alone against thousands in the Battle of the Bastards for Ned's youngest son Rickon.
Fear is biological instinct. Courage is humanity's hymn.
Not everyone can bravely draw their sword.
But sometimes, being too righteous isn't good.
Still, Jon was young now. Lynn had time to make him less "rigidly honorable."
The idea of winning Jon over rose in Lynn's mind.
That evening.
Lynn was in his room, carefully sharpening his longsword with a whetstone.
The blade reflected his calm face.
Maester Luwin's salve worked wellâthe wound pain had lessened considerably.
A soft knock.
"Come in."
The door cracked open. A head poked through.
Jon Snow.
"Am I... interrupting?"
Jon's voice hesitated.
"No." Lynn set down the whetstone. Pointed at the room's only chair.
Jon entered. Closed the door behind him. Didn't sitâjust stood in the center, hands twisting together awkwardly.
"You're a man of the Night's Watch." Jon finally spoke. Eyes on Lynn's sword.
"Mm." Lynn acknowledged.
"So... what's it like? The Wall?"
Jon's eyes held youthful curiosity and longing.
"Cold." Lynn's answer was simple and direct. "Colder than Winterfell."
"Wind like knives. Cuts into your bones."
"The Night's Watch... what kind of men are they?"
This was what Jon really wanted to ask.
"All kinds." Lynn leaned back in his chair, watching him.
"Thieves, bandits, gamblers in debt, knights who lost their lands, and... people like me."
"Of course, some noble sons go for honor." Lynn added. "Just not many."
Jon fell silent.
Lynn's wordsâcompletely different from his imagination.
In his mind, the Wall was a place of honor. Where birth didn't matter.
Everyone was a black brother. Defending against threats from beyond the Wall together.
"On the Wall, does a person's birth really not matter?" Jon's voice was low. Uncertain.
"Can a bastard... earn respect?"
Lynn looked at him. At this future Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.
At the confusion and vulnerability on his young face.
"On the Wall, people only care how well you swing a sword. Whether you dare stand at the front when wildlings charge."
Lynn's voice stayed calm.
"Whether your name ends in Snow or Starkânobody cares."
"They only care if you're reliable."
Jon's eyes slowly brightened. The light of finding belonging.
"But." Lynn's tone shifted.
"It's not a hero's destination, Jon."
"Once you take the black, you give up family, lands. Never marry. Father no children."
"Your whole lifeâdedicated to that cold wall."
"Until you die."
Silence filled the room. Only wind howling outside.
The light on Jon's face dimmed bit by bit.
He wanted to escape Winterfell. Escape Lady Catelyn's cold stares.
But he'd never imagined the price would be so heavy.
"I understand." After a long pause, Jon said quietly. "Thank you, Lynn."
He turned to leave.
"Jon." Lynn stopped him.
"Your father loves you very much."
Jon's footsteps froze.
"Sometimes, love can't solve everything."
Lynn watched him. Spoke deliberately. "What kind of person you becomeâultimately depends on your own choice."
Jon didn't turn back. Just stood in the doorway. Shadow stretched long in the dim light.
Then he pushed the door open. Walked out.
~~~~ââ~~~~~~~~ââ~~~~
Read up to (20+Â ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here:Â patreon.com/DarkGolds
Happy reading, everyone!