Ned Stark
It had been a month since his son left Winterfell; Arya hadn't been the same since he left; she had been crying for weeks now, calling out for Jon, sometimes looking at the Winterfell's gate for hours expecting Jon to walk inside any moment.
He wasn't the only one that had left; the same was for Ghost and Kessa; the lord of Winterfell had tried to spot the Blue Eagle flying over the forest like she usually did but couldn't see her anywhere.
Robb wasn't in a better state; he had completely shut himself from everyone; he didn't cry like Arya, but he went completely silent, Theon had tried to take him outside and spar, but the young wolf didn't care to spar with him.
Ned had hoped that Swordfighting would somehow distract him, but that didn't really work. Robb had only asked Ned once why Jon would leave. The lord of Winterfell didn't really know how to answer.
Bran was still little, but even he knew something had happened, often crying when he saw the sad faces of his siblings.
Sasha didn't have much reaction; in the first week, she looked visibly disturbed and sad, but that quickly faded; now, she was acting as if nothing had changed.
Catelyn had not attempted to hide that she was happy with what happened; every time Ned encountered her, he saw her with a bright smile on her face; during dinner, she would try to talk to Robb and Arya, saying that they shouldn't get sad, or that the bastard had made the decision himself, with Sansa remarking.
Mother's right; he probably went to live with his wild beasts in the forest
That had resulted in Arya throwing a pie at her face before throwing herself like an arrow at Sansa, hitting her, resulting in small scratches on Sansa's face, Ned would have been happy if that was it, but No, The following day, Arya literally burned Sansa's favorite dress, right in front of her.
Sansa had just walked inside her chamber, only to see Arya holding her dress in her hands.
"What do you think you're doing, Horseface?" Sansa screeched; Arya simply smirked innocently before throwing the dress at the fireplace.
Arya had been grounded and forced to listen to Septa Mordana's meaningless words about being a Lady for hours. All Arya had to say was that it was worth it and would do it over again.
Ned, on the other hand, didn't know what else to feel but self-loathing; if only he had not taken Jon from his family, none of this would have happened.
Jon would have been happy with his family and not out there, alone and probably dead; Ned quickly shook that thought away. No, his nephew wouldn't go down that easily; he was special; he would not die alone somewhere with no one around to be with him and to hear his final words.
Ned felt headaches after headaches; since his disappearance, he had basically alerted the whole North to search for him, sending a letter to the lords he trusted the most and one to House Manderly. In his letter, Jon has written that he was going all the way to Braavos to have a chance in Life.
Ned had made sure to give a good description of his son in his letter, just in case, also mentioning that he most likely was in the company of a Blue Eagle of The North and a Direwolf, he knew the only way for Jon to go to Braavos was to go to White Harbor, and if Jon decided to go all the way to King's Landing, he still needed to pass White Harbor.
Ned prayed to the Weirwood Tree every day that Jon would return; once he returned, Ned had decided to tell him everything; he knew what the truth would do, he knew the Consequences of it, but he didn't care; he had already condemned his nephew with the name of a Bastard, and to be raised like one.
"Old Gods, please watch over Jon, guide him back to his home; even if I don't deserve to see him, at least let me see him once to tell him everything about Lyanna, to tell him everything that he should have known, please Watch over him," Ned prayed, his words almost a whisper, not hearing the footsteps behind him despite the thick layer of snow all around Winterfell.
Feeling the wind gently blowing against his face, the lord of Winterfell heard the tree's vines talking, he didn't understand them, but he hoped the old gods would listen.
Standing up, only then the person behind him make his presence known.
"Father,"
Whirling around quickly, his little girl stood behind him, just a few feet away.
"Arya, what are you doing here?" Ned asked warmly, looking at her face, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks red with tears, her hands clutching something that Jon had given her.
"I came to pray, father," Arya answered, her voice hoarse from crying.
"Come here," Ned said, sitting down on the tree trunk; Arya sat beside him. He kissed her forehead, wanting her to feel better.
"You don't have to worry about Jon, Arya; he will soon return back here," Ned said softly, hoping to ease her sadness.
"B-but, he left father, h-how are you so Sure," Arya cried out, more tears rolling down her cheeks.
Ned gulped; he knew there was a good chance of Jon not returning. He hoped that wouldn't be the case, but a part of him knew that was a possibility.
"Listen, Arya, he might have left, but always remember that Winterfell is his home; this is where he belongs; everyone always returns back to their home," Ned said, with Arya managing a small smile.
Ned wasn't a fool; he knew if he didn't find his nephew soon, Maege would fulfill her promise to him; even if Jon had disappeared, he just hoped that his nephew would return before that happened.
"How long?"
"Six Years, that's all I ask for,"
"Very well, if you don't, then I will personally send the letter,"
Ned felt his throat go dry at the memory; it had hours of discussion to finally convince her; now, Jon was nowhere to be found, and he knew Maege would blame him for it.
He knew the moment Benjen hears about it; he would be in trouble.
Where are you, Jon?
Jon Snow
It had been a month of riding Ghost to reach the Wall; finally, he had asked Bloodraven why he needed to go to Castle Black since his direction was to go beyond the wall instead.
There was a hidden passage that could lead him beyond the wall, he didn't need to go to Castle Black, but Bloodraven told him that he needed to see the Maester of Winterfell; he needed to give him something.
Jon had reluctantly listened before making his way over to the gates. He could see the wall; it stretched as far as the eye could see; it felt like it had no end; looking up, he felt as if the wall could touch the sky.
Snow falling all around him, Ghost beside him, Kessa was flying high in the air, scouting the place; Jon felt the cold to his bones; the snow itself had frozen in the ground, it was two feet deep.
Reaching the gate, a voice cut through the cold air like a knife.
"Stop; what Do You Want Here, Boy?" The guard shouted with a booming voice. At the top of the gate, two guards were standing holding torches and wearing black clothes.
"I'm here to join the Night's Watch," Jon spoke from down below, his voice loud and firm; the guards looked down at Jon before noticing the giant Direwolf standing right beside him.
"You can come inside, but your wolf stays outside," The guard shouted back at Jon, the wind harsh and cold.
Jon wanted to our right say that he would not be alone without Ghost but quickly decided to agree; Kessa was up there if things got messy. Turning to his companion, he whistled, telling him to go and hunt.
Ghost frowned before his eyes briefly glanced at the castle; looking back at his owner, he reluctantly walked away.
Seeing the wolf running away, the guard turned behind. "Open The Gates, Ladies," he shouted; the giant wooden gate started opening, making a loud noise.
Snow shaking off the gates as they opened, Jon walked inside, keeping his chest-high; in front of him standing two men all in black.
The first had a bald head, a sharp jaw with a small beard all the way to his ears, a scar just below his lower lip, all the way to his chin, brown eyes, a big nose with a small forehead, a few strands of hair around his forehead; he looked around his forties.
The second one had long hair reaching his ears, his left eye closed, while his right eye was almost dark in color.
"Why are you here, boy?" The first one asked, his voice sounding old but firm; Jon took a glimpse of his teeth or the lack of them when he talked; his front teeth looked broken, and two teeth were missing at the side.
"I'm here to join the Night's Watch. My name is Richard Snow," Jon answered, his voice sounding true.
"A bastard," the second one murmured, eyeing him up and down; the first didn't react to the new information. He simply looked at him as if measuring him.
"Join the Watch!? You're quite a young lad, I don't think the Commander will accept someone so young, but I can lead you to him," the first one spoke before gesturing for Jon to follow him.
The bastard boy followed behind without saying another word; now that he was inside, he could see Castle Black in its full glory.
Castle Black didn't look like a real castle to Jon, as it had no walls to defend it to the west, east, or south. Only the Wall stands to the north. It consists of several stone towers and timber keeps.
Jon ignored the looks he was getting from some of the Night's Watch brothers; some started talking to each other before pointing at Jon; most of them were Baratheon loyalties that refused to bend the knee to Rhaegar Targaryen after he won the Rebellion.
Soon reaching the door, the soldier guiding him knocked on the door before looking back at Jon.
"Listen, boy, don't waste too much of his time, and speak clearly when you address him and when he asks for your name, speak truthfully," the man spoke, ignoring the surprised look from Jon.
"Alright, ser..." "No ser here, boy, and my name is Dean Caron," the man spoke with a slight chuckle.
"Enter" A voice shouted from the other side; both men entered, walking inside; Jon was shot with the warmth of the room inside, making him breathe easier for a moment.
The old bear was standing tall and strong, with a long white beard with no hair and a crow on his shoulder.
Corn Corn Corn
The crow cried; the old bear gave him corn before looking at the new boy in front of him. Jon felt the commander's eyes analyzing his face from every angle.
The old bear sighed before his eyes turned to look at his men. "Go back; I need to talk with the boy," the commander ordered; the man immediately left without saying a word; as the door closed behind Jon, the commander gestured for him to sit.
Scooting out the chair and sitting down, Jon felt the cold eyes of the commander looking at him. The old bear left out a sigh before sitting down.
"Now, what does the Bastard of Winterfell want here!"
Jon made no reaction at being found out; he had assumed his father would send words everywhere, and not just in White Harbor. Before he could actually answer, the old bear continued...
"Do you know how worried you have made your father? And if you're here to join the Watch, the answer is No," The old bear spoke with a firm tone, emphasizing the word 'No.'
"You're still too young; we don't accept anyone until they have reached thirteen name days," Jeor finished.
Jon spoke nothing, thinking of a way to meet with Aemon Targaryen since that was his objective here.
"I want to meet The Maester. I need to ask him something," Jon bluntly said, knowing that perhaps speaking bluntly here was a better option.
Jeor gave him a strange look that Jon couldn't quite understand before scratching his chin.
"Why do you need to talk with the old Dragon?" He asked, intrigued, his eyes looking at Jon differently.
"I need to ask him something," Jon answered; the moment he said that the Old Bear leaned a bit closer, looking at Jon's eyes closed; the bastard felt a bit uncomfortable from the way his eyes were looking at his very soul, after a few seconds he backed away, releasing a huge breath, shaking his head, murmuring something Jon couldn't hear.
"I see, then I will have someone lead you to him," The commander spoke, surprising Jon that he agreed without asking more questions. Soon someone came inside the room, and the commander told him to lead him to the Maester. Just as Jon was about to follow him, the commander spoke to him.
"Jon, the time will come when we all have to make a decision that will have an impact on people around us. You're someone whose decision will impact perhaps the whole Westeros. When the time comes, make the decision you least Regret,"
Note: I'm sorry for the short chapter. The next chapter will be a long one.
(The Wall in Game of Thrones is actually 200 meters tall)