[Chapter Size: 3100 Words.]
Third Person POV
Winterfell, 98 AC.
Jon entered the hall a little tired in the middle of the day.
He had spent the entire morning with the maester, who had left aside the lessons for the children to test Jon's current ability with the arts of the mind, asking all kinds of questions and requesting that he recite parts of some books.
"You are exhausted, boy," the maester had commented with a small chuckle, seeing Jon look dizzy after so many questions.
Jon gave a tired smile, not denying it. He had answered at least around 200 questions from the maester alone.
When he passed through the hall, he did not go to the high table this time; instead, he leaned toward the servants' tables and sat at one of them. He did not fail to notice a few pairs of eyes following him from the high table since he entered — Lyra, the girl of 4 namedays, widened her eyes when he sat at a table with servants, and she immediately looked at him, puffing her cheeks.
"Why is he there?", she said loud enough for some other tables to hear.
Her mother touched her head and said something to her, while Jon looked back with a faint smile, but he could tell that the girl's dissatisfaction increased.
Jon began to serve himself and eat in silence. His head was still spinning with everything that had been tested. The maester had been quite meticulous and insistent.
Soon, the maester himself appeared entering the hall, with his chains clinking against each other as he walked. After Jon left the room, he had said he would go to Lord Stark to check some things.
The maester stopped in front of the main table. "My lady, Lord Stark asked me to deliver this message," he spoke directly to Lyanna, who took the parchment and began to read.
"I understand... all right. He will see this later," she said. It was something related to the castle, it seemed, something that could not be said out loud, otherwise there would be no need for a parchment...
After putting the parchment away, Lyanna did not fail to look at Jon, who ate in silence, then turned her attention back to the maester.
"And then, how was the boy? I imagine he has some difficulty, since he was not trained from an early age by a maester. So he must be a bit behind compared to Rickon, who is the same age."
The maester then opened a wide smile upon hearing this. "The boy is more than fine, my lady. He exceeds all my expectations," he said openly, making everyone at the table look in surprise at the maester and Jon sitting near them.
"Really?", Lyanna said, interested.
Jon raised his head the moment he realized they were talking about him, meeting the gaze of the Lady of Winterfell upon him.
The maester continued. "He truly learned to read the Common Tongue and High Valyrian on his own! I was more than surprised when he proved it, when I must confess I did not quite believe it when Lord Stark mentioned that the boy had learned by himself trying to read a book...", the maester went on, with pride. After several tests, it became clear that the boy was not lying and Lord Stark had been right. In the end, the maester seemed to look at Jon as if he had a second head, astonished.
"He did that with a book?", Alys asked, curious.
"Yes, and he learned all of that just by deciphering his books. The boy is very intelligent, more than most of his age. He still does not have much knowledge about general matters or customs that we know, but he is very logical. He shows firm reasoning and can justify well the things he does not know."
Jon blushed upon hearing that, lowering his head at the comments, while the Stark siblings, Walton and Rodrik, made small jokes and laughed lightly at Jon's embarrassment.
In any case, Jon went back to eating and greeted a few people who sat with him. He had not spoken much with anyone yet — he did not feel ready. After all, it had only been a day since he was there.
It was when he finished that someone appeared in front of him. "So, shall we go to another training yard? The lessons with the maester will be in the afternoon, but maybe we can train a bit before?", Rickon said excitedly.
Jon widened his eyes before nodding. As they had agreed, he followed him. They went straight to the master-at-arms, who was still training the last of the men.
"Othmar, we came to train!", Rickon said as he entered the training yard.
The man raised an eyebrow. "Your training is only later in the afternoon. I would even let you train, but I need to see how the other boy will do," he said, pointing to Jon. "I have to see his level of skill before assigning any training."
That discouraged Rickon a bit.
Jon then looked at Ghost, who was in the distance, in the kennel. "Hey... how about we go to the direwolf?", Jon suggested, looking at the heir of Winterfell.
Rickon widened his eyes, but hesitated. "Won't he attack me?"
"No, if I am nearby. And not if you do not provoke him. Even though your father told you to be careful, Ghost is actually very gentle — as long as you do not cross the line," Jon said in a low voice.
The boy became excited. His father had spoken to them the previous day, calling Rickon and his two brothers to his solar, saying quite serious things about not provoking the wolf or trying to dominate him, as that could be dangerous.
They reached the wolf sleeping in a separate part of the kennel.
Jon hugged Ghost, as he had done in the morning, checking how he was dealing with the new place to sleep.
Now, seeing Jon again, the wolf perked up and Ghost licked his face, and Jon saw that as a good sign.
Then, he looked at Rickon, who was standing still, with a look of admiration. "Ghost, friend," Jon said, before pointing at Rickon and making a gesture for him to come closer.
Rickon approached cautiously. Ghost stared at him for a moment, hesitating.
Jon stroked the wolf's fur below his head. "He is a friend. Do not worry."
With those words, Ghost looked back at Rickon before allowing the boy to touch his fur.
That gave Rickon courage, and he stepped closer, letting out a small laugh as he realized how easy it was to touch the direwolf.
"He is beautiful!", Rickon exclaimed, with a hint of envy.
"Yes, he is," Jon replied with a smile, ignoring all the looks they were receiving around them.
Jon was about to say something else when a guard approached. "Excuse me," he said, unable to hide a bit of hesitation at the size of the wolf between the two children.
Rickon quickly took a step back, looking at the guard with some tension, thinking he might be in trouble because of his father's warning. However, the guard did not look at him, but at Jon.
"You are Jon, aren't you?", he asked the obvious when the whole castle already knew who he was.
Jon nodded in silence. "There is a woman at the entrance of Winterfell. She says she wants to speak with you. She said she is your grandmother."
Jon widened his eyes. That woman with violet eyes... it could only be her.
"Where is she? Can I see her?", Jon asked immediately.
"Of course, follow me," said the guard.
Jon then turned to Rickon. "May I go see her, my lord?", he asked cautiously.
Rickon nodded, looking at Jon as if he were an idiot. "Of course. You do not have to ask me for permission... And stop calling me my lord, I am Rickon and I consider you my friend from now on!" the boy declared.
"Yes, thank you... Rickon!" Jon said, opening a smile to his first friend in Winterfell.
"I will pass some time before the lesson with the maester, until our sword lesson, I hope you do not miss it! And, if we can see the wolf again, I would really like that...", Rickon said sincerely. He knew he could not be with the direwolf if Jon was not there.
Jon nodded, widening his smile even more. "Of course!"
With that, he followed the guard to the entrance of the castle.
When he arrived, he saw a woman wearing a cloak against the cold, despite it being summer. She was talking to the men at the gate, and they seemed to know her.
She fixed her gaze on him as soon as she noticed him approaching with a guard — and Jon immediately recognized it. It was the same gaze of the woman he had seen in the middle of the crowd in Wintertown when they arrived.
Jon approached cautiously, while the woman studied him and then smiled.
"May I take him outside? I want some privacy with my grandson," she said to the guards.
The guards, who already knew her, nodded. "Of course, Shirley."
Jon looked at them. He should not be surprised — many guards who worked in Winterfell had their homes in Wintertown, and that woman was clearly known there.
"Come with me, my boy." She said, gesturing for him to follow her through the entrance. Jon followed her.
She walked outside, moving a little away from the entrance, which had a flow of people going in and out of the castle, before turning to him.
"Look at you... son of my Garren and my eldest grandson!" she said with a tender smile, crouching in front of Jon and immediately hugging him.
"You are my father's mother?", Jon asked the obvious, just because he was quite surprised by it.
She displayed an even wider smile. "Yes, my name is Shirley, and obviously, I am your father's and your uncle's mother. I received the message that you would come here. I did not imagine that my grandson would be taken in by the Starks. How are you feeling in the castle?", she asked.
"It is different from the farm...", Jon thought for a moment before answering. "Here there are many more rules... but there are also many more things to do."
On the farm, he had a lot of freedom, but at the same time, there was not much to do and there were not many people.
"Well, I hope you learn everything you have to learn here. Not everyone gets an opportunity like the one you received from Lord Stark." Placing her hands on Jon's shoulders with a tender squeeze. She looked at him, changing the subject.
"It is good to see you for the first time, my grandson. I saw you riding that wolf in the middle of the town, it was magnificent."
"I feel the same, grandma," Jon said, smiling shyly. He studied her, accepting the grandmotherly touch she had for him, after all, he would love to have a grandmother.
She smiled and kissed his cheek upon hearing the word. "Oh, my boy... you certainly know how to surprise an old woman like me!" she said.
There was a slight tone of sarcasm, even though she might have been, at most, 40 namedays, but also affection in her eyes.
"Why are your eyes purple?", Jon asked, getting lost in those unique eyes.
She looked at him for a few seconds before smiling. "Ah... I inherited that from my mother. But it came from my grandfather, according to what my mother and my grandmother told me," she replied.
"Really? Who is your grandfather? That would be my great-grandfather, right?", Jon asked, curious.
She nodded. "Yes, my boy... as for him... well, my mother and my grandmother never spoke much about it for many years. And perhaps it is better for you not to know," she said.
Jon seemed discouraged. "Why?", he murmured.
"Because it is dangerous to know, Jon. When you are older, perhaps I will tell you. Not even my own children know. I would only consider telling you because I see this burning desire to know... my boy."
Jon simply nodded in silence, before she lifted his chin so he could look directly into her eyes.
"You take after your mother's eyes... no, those eyes are even more beautiful than Rowena's. I always thought your father was a lucky man to find such a beautiful woman further south in the kingdom." She paused, observing his facial features, but mainly the boy's eyes.
"And it seems it is true, from what I have heard. I also heard that my grandson is quite special."
Jon looked at her for a moment. "Do you think I am special?", Jon murmured awkwardly.
"Ah... you are. My son told me that you were born beneath a heart tree. Did you know that?"
Jon nodded. "Yes... mom told me. She said the old gods favor me."
"Ah, how they do that... But your eyes are very unusual. Not even Rowena can compare to your eyes."
"Come, boy. Let us sit on those stones over there," she pointed to some stones on the ground, beside the outer wall.
She sat down and looked at Jon.
"I want you to tell me about your life, your father, your mother, your brother, your uncles, and your cousin," she said, wanting to know how the family in the south was doing.
Jon began to tell about his life on the farm over the next hours — he spoke of the heart tree, of Ghost, of the dangers... he just did not mention the dreams. He spoke of life on the farm, in the village, his daily activities in the forests, his animal friends.
The woman watched him with interest. "Ah... it seems you had many adventures. And friends your age in the village, did you have them?", she asked.
Jon thought for a moment. "There were some... Will, Hob, Jory, but I did not have much contact with them since I needed to go to the village and their parents did not let them go to the farm...", he said carefully.
He also spent most of his time on the farm and only went to the village occasionally, usually to listen to Borok's stories. Most of the children were afraid of Ghost and did not approach him.
"Well, having a friend like your cousin Mari, I doubt you need many other friends," Shirley said with a smile.
Upon hearing Mari's name, Jon nodded, but did not fail to slightly press his lips together, thinking about the farm once again.
"Do you miss home?", she asked when she saw his expression.
Jon admitted it with a careful nod. He might know that was not his place, but he had still lived there for 8 years, how could he not miss the farm and his family?
"I imagine so... But you are here for a good reason. And you are not alone. I am your grandmother, I always wanted to meet you, but my children were not very willing to travel with you in the past years... But now you are here and you can come to me whenever you want. I know that Lord Stark intended to bring you to me, but I could not bear to wait, so I came here. I want you to know that you are always welcome in my home, you might love my tapioca starch biscuits, as well as my corn cake," she said with a smile.
"Thank you, grandma," Jon replied, hugging her.
She seemed satisfied. "Now go, boy. I am sure you have your duties. Ask Lord Stark to have a guard accompany you to my house one of these days. I will prepare delicious things for you to eat.", she said.
Jon nodded and hugged her once more, before they said goodbye.
It was already mid-afternoon, and he still had a training — as he had already mentioned when she asked if he would be busy in the middle of his story.
He found Rickon in the middle of the training yard. As soon as he approached—
"You are late," the master-at-arms pointed out immediately to Jon, making him shrink.
"I apologize, my lord..."
The man looked at him for a moment with a serious expression. "It is fine, it is your first day. And I know you were at the gate seeing your grandmother, the guards informed me. But know that this will not be tolerated anymore. You must arrive on time if you wish to train. Discipline comes first," he said in a firm tone.
Jon nodded immediately. "Come, Jon. Let us see what you are capable of," Rickon called him.
"Not yet. I want to see the boy first," the master-at-arms interrupted.
Jon listened as the man gave instructions with a wooden sword the size he was used to and did as he was told. He approached the training dummy made of straw. Jon imagined the tree he used to strike in the forest on the farm, alone with his wooden sword.
Immediately, he began to attack. The master watched him in silence, analyzing every movement.
"Well... this is surprising. Not bad for a boy of eight namedays," he said.
"Now let us evaluate how you do in a fight. Rickon, since you both have been eager since yesterday, I want to see you fight."
Jon nodded and stepped into the yard. Rickon immediately grabbed his sword and smiled.
"Well, let us see what you are capable of, Jon of the common folk," said the young Stark with an arrogant smile.
"Come at me with everything, Rickon Stark of Winterfell," Jon replied, returning the smile and laughing lightly as he prepared himself.
No one paid much attention to the fight between two children. A few glances turned to them with interest, but most were still focused on their own training. They did not expect to see anything impressive.
Even so, for Jon, that was something unique. He would fight for real for the first time — not against his cousin Mari or a log that could not defend itself. Rickon was training with capable men, just as he had trained with Borok.
"Begin," the master ordered. Both advanced toward each other.
Raccoon Here:
I think it is good to do a timeskip of 2 years.
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