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The feast's clamor blocked by thick stone walls.
Below the First Keep only wind.
Wind passed through battlements. Made a whistling sound. Swept up dead leaves and snow.
Lynn stood in this silent shadow.
His longsword reflected flowing cold light under the clear moon.
He didn't practice those wide, sweeping moves. Just the most basic thrusts, parries, and dodges.
Each movement repeated hundreds of times.
Muscle sorenessâimproved his control over this body another fraction.
Sweat slid down Lynn's temple. Quickly dried by cold night wind. Took away the last trace of warmth from his skin.
Footsteps approached. From far to near.
Light footsteps. Tinged with hesitation.
Lynn stopped. But his sword hand didn't relax at all.
He turned.
Jon Snow stood not far away. Also holding a blunt practice sword.
He didn't wear feast clothes. Just plain black leather armor.
That handsome faceânot belonging to House Starkâcarried loneliness incompatible with the feast.
"I thought I'd be alone here." Jon's voice was somewhat low.
Lynn sheathed his sword. "Me too."
Jon walked over. Stood beside Lynn.
He looked at that tower blazing with lights in the darkness. Silent for a long time.
"They're all inside." Jon's tone was flat. Emotionless.
"Cheering, drinking, celebrating the King's arrival." "And I can only stand here."
Lynn said nothing.
He knew Lady Catelyn wouldn't allow Jon at the high table.
In such a grand occasion, a bastard's presence was the greatest humiliation to her.
Jon laughed self-mockingly. "Sometimes, I really want to leave here."
He raised his blunt sword. Swung at a dummy.
"Go somewhere no one knows me." "Somewhere my surname isn't Snow."
His gaze fell on Lynn. Those eyes held a searching quality.
"Do you think the Wall is truly my only home?"
Before Lynn could answer, another voice rang from the shadows behind them.
"The Wall isn't anyone's home, boy."
The voice steady. With the North's characteristic rasp.
Lynn's pupils contracted sharply.
A mounted figure emerged from darkness.
He wore worn black clothes. Lean frame. Face carved by wind and frost into sharp angles.
Those eyes sharp as an eagle's.
He was Benjen Stark. Lord Ned's brother. First Ranger of the Night's Watch.
"Uncle Benjen!" The loneliness swept from Jon's face. Replaced by joy at seeing family.
He respected Benjen like his father Ned.
Benjen nodded at Jon a greeting.
But his gaze passed Jon. Landed directly on Lynn.
That gaze scrutinizing. But not hostile.
"You're that crow who flew back." Benjen's tone was calm. Stating a fact.
"When I returned to the Wall, the Night's Watch said you were a deserter."
Lynn didn't defend himself. Just quietly met Benjen's gaze.
Benjen's eyes moved from Lynn's face to his sword hand. Finally to the trampled snow at his feet.
Thereâcountless footprints from repeated practice.
Benjen's mouth curved into an extremely subtle arc.
"Deserters don't practice swordwork like this." "I also heard about the bandits." "You did well."
Benjen walked forward a few steps. Cold aura hit them.
That was the breath of one who'd spent years at the Wallâice and snow soaked into the marrow.
"I saw you fight wildlings with my own eyes. I know you're no coward."
"And this scouting trip I also saw White Walkers."
Benjen reached a conclusion.
"I'll explain to my brother." "The Night's Watch needs warriors like you. Not a corpse hanging from the gallows."
Lynn's heart pounded once.
Warmth spread from his chest through his limbs.
The First Ranger's promise. More weight than any defense.
This meantâthat sword called "deserter" hanging over his head was finally removed.
"Thank you, my lord." Lynn bowed slightly. Voice tinged with relief he hadn't noticed himself.
"Two months apart and you've learned manners." Benjen waved his hand. Signaled Lynn needn't be formal.
His gaze returned to Jon.
"You've grown." Benjen's face showed a smile.
"I rode through the night just so you wouldn't face the Lannisters' tedious feast alone."
"You know my brother Ned at these boring feasts is like a bear trapped in a cage."
"Aren't you going to the feast inside?" Jon smiled bitterly.
"Lady Stark believes a bastard dining with royalty would insult them."
Benjen nodded knowingly. No one understood Jon Snow's situation better than him.
He cared deeply for Jon.
"Well, the Wall has no such tedious constraints." "Bastards can sit anytime."
Jon's body stood straight. He looked at his uncle. Those gray eyes burned with unprecedented light.
"Then take me with you when you go back!" "Just ask my fatherâhe'll definitely agree!"
"I want to become a man of the Night's Watch." "At the Wall, birth doesn't matter." "I have no surname. Only brothers."
Benjen's expression didn't change.
He just looked at his nephew. At that face flushed with excitement.
"You don't know what you're saying." Benjen said.
"We have no families." "Once you take the black, you can never marry. Never have children."
"You think this is some hero's game?" "We face wildlings, the Long Night, things more terrible than death."
Unlike when Jon asked Lynn before, this time his eyes held unprecedented determination.
"I don't care." "I'm ready to swear the oath and join the Night's Watch."
Lynn understoodâtoday Catelyn's actions had deeply wounded Jon.
"You're still just a boy." Benjen's tone softened somewhat.
"When you know what this means, you'll likely regret it."
"Stay at Winterfell, Jon." "When you're older, when you truly understand what you're giving upâthen talk to me about this."
Finished, Benjen stopped looking at him. He patted Lynn's shoulder.
"Boy, I'm heading inside. Come find me later."
Then Benjen turned. Melted back into that deep darkness.
Only Jon and Lynn remained in the courtyard. And that endless wind.
Jon stood frozen in place. For a long time.
Finally he looked up at Lynn. Voice hoarse.
"Uncle Benjen's telling the truth, isn't he?" "Am I... too naive?"
Lynn looked at him. At this future Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. At the vulnerability on his faceâbeyond his years.
Lynn didn't comfort him. Just said calmly.
"You choose your own path, Jon." "No one can walk it for you."
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