ASOIAF does not belong to me.
English is not my native language.
Chapter 1
The cold wind blew through the courtyards of Winterfell, carrying with it the weight of a house in mourning and worry. Bran Stark was still unconscious, motionless in his bed after the fall from the tower, and everyone in the fortress felt the impact of the accident. Jon Snow, however, had more on his mind than his brother's tragedy. Tomorrow, he would depart with his uncle Benjen Stark to the Wall, to join the Night's Watch, the fate he had always believed to be his since he could remember.
From an early age, Jon had accepted his place as a bastard. Eddard Stark, his father, had never spoken openly about Jon's mother, but he had always treated him with respect and dignity. However, in Winterfell, he had always known that there was an invisible barrier between him and his legitimate family. Robb was the heir, the future Lord of Winterfell, and Jon understood that. But Robb had always treated him like a true brother. They had grown up together, trained together, and Jon knew that, at least with Robb, he was seen as an equal. Arya, his free-spirited sister, was another source of comfort. She adored him, always seeking his company and sharing the same feeling of being different. She saw him as more than just a half-brother; he was her confidant, her closest friend. Sansa, on the other hand, was more distant. Influenced by Catelyn, her mother, and by notions of nobility and what it meant to be a true lady, Sansa often looked at Jon with the same coldness as Catelyn. But that never bothered Jon as much as Lady Stark's coldness.
He was in the stables, stroking Ghost's mane, his direwolf, when Benjen entered quietly. The First Ranger of the Night's Watch had an air of severity and responsibility in his blue eyes, and Jon knew his uncle had something important to discuss.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Benjen asked, his words echoing through the empty stable.
"Yes," Jon replied immediately, gripping Ghost's soft fur tightly. "I've always known my place was there. On the Wall, I'll be part of something greater. I won't be the bastard of Winterfell anymore."
Benjen sighed deeply, his gaze hardening as he watched Jon. "You think you know what you're doing, but the Night's Watch isn't what it used to be, Jon. It's not a place of glory or honor like you imagine. Most of the men there aren't heroes. They're criminals, fugitives, the worst of society. Men who had no choice."
Jon frowned, his heart beating faster. He had spent his life hearing stories about the Night's Watch, about how it was a brotherhood of warriors protecting the kingdom from northern dangers. He believed that the Wall would give him a chance to be something more than a bastard. "But you serve there," Jon countered, seeking to understand. "You're the First Ranger. If it's good enough for you, why wouldn't it be for me?"
"Because you still have choices, Jon," Benjen replied firmly, stepping closer to his nephew. "I went to the Wall because I had no other path. But you... you can still build a life here."
Jon looked at the ground, avoiding Benjen's gaze. He had always believed the Wall was his destiny. It was the only place where he could stand out, where he wouldn't be constantly reminded of his bastard status. "My father agrees with my decision," Jon said, trying to convince himself. "He told me this is my path."
Benjen sighed, realizing Jon didn't understand the full truth. "Ned is going south with the king. He's going to serve as Hand of the King. And while he's gone, he can't guarantee his presence here in Winterfell. You know how Catelyn feels about you. Ned thinks the Wall is a simple solution."
Jon felt a tightness in his chest at the mention of Catelyn. It was true she had never wanted him in Winterfell, and Jon had known this since childhood. But now, after Bran's fall, her coldness had become even more evident. He knew his presence there was a constant reminder of something she preferred to forget. "She never wanted me here," Jon muttered. "And now that Bran..."
His voice faltered, and Jon clenched his fists. He knew he couldn't change what had happened to Bran, and perhaps it was better to leave before the family's grief crushed him. The Wall, at least, offered him a purpose.
"But you don't have to go now," Benjen insisted, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Wait. Wait until things settle down, until you're sure of what you really want. The Wall isn't going anywhere. But once you take the oath, Jon, there's no turning back. It's a path of no return, and I want you to understand that before making this decision."
Jon took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the choice he was about to make. He knew Benjen was trying to protect him, but he also knew that his life in Winterfell had no future. He wasn't a Stark; he wouldn't inherit lands or titles. At the Wall, he could be more than Ned Stark's bastard. He could be a man in his own right.
"I've already made my decision," Jon finally said, his voice firm but tinged with sadness. "I'll go with you tomorrow. I'll serve with honor."
Benjen sighed deeply, realizing that Jon was determined but knowing his nephew still had a romanticized view of what the Night's Watch was. He needed to understand the reality of what awaited him beyond the Wall, and Benjen wasn't willing to let him go without knowing the truth.
"Honor?" Benjen repeated with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "The Night's Watch isn't like the stories you've heard, Jon. What you'll find there is far from honor. The Watch... is no longer what it used to be."
Jon looked at him, confused. "But you serve there. I've always heard stories of courage, of the rangers who protect the realm from what's beyond the Wall."
Benjen shook his head, his expression grave. "We protect, yes... but with far less than you imagine. Of all the castles that should guard the Wall, only three are occupied: Castle Black, Shadow Tower, and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The others are abandoned, empty. The men are few, Jon. There's over a hundred leagues of stone and ice to protect, and we barely have enough men to keep those three castles running. And those who serve there... Most aren't heroes or noble warriors. They're thieves, rapists, murderers. Men who were condemned and chose exile at the Wall over the noose."
Jon swallowed hard. He knew some criminals were sent to the Watch, but he had never imagined they made up the majority of the brothers. "But... what about the others? Those who volunteer?"
Benjen shrugged. "There are a few, yes. But they're rare. Occasionally, a northern family sends their third or fourth son to serve. But even that's becoming rare. Most prefer to fight in the wars of free men, rather than face the real enemy beyond the Wall. The wildlings have grown bolder, and few believe in the stories of the Ancient Enemies. It's a hard fight, Jon. There's cold, hunger. And there's not much honor among the men you'll find there. They didn't go to the Wall because they wanted to. They were forced."
Jon felt the weight of those words. He had always imagined the Watch as a brotherhood of valor, men coming together to protect the realm. But Benjen's description was very different. "And you?" Jon asked. "You chose to go."
"Yes," Benjen replied, his gaze distant. "But not for the same reason as you. I knew what I was getting into. And still, there are days when I wonder if I made the right choice. I don't want you to go without understanding what you're walking into. It's going to be a hard life, Jon. And once you take the oath, there's no turning back."
Jon clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the decision intensify. But for him, it still seemed better than continuing as a bastard, with no true place in Winterfell. "I'm ready for it," he said, without as much conviction as before, but still determined.
Benjen watched his nephew for a long moment before abruptly changing the subject. "Tomorrow, we leave with the Lannister dwarf. He wants to see the Wall, and, in a way, it's better to have someone who understands what he's talking about, even if it's for amusement. But before we go..." Benjen paused, crossing his arms and looking Jon in the eyes, "...there's something else you need to experience."
"What do you mean?" Jon asked, confused.
Benjen smiled, but it was a sad and knowing smile. "Go to the brothel tonight, Jon. Lie with a woman. Make sure you know what you're leaving behind by joining the Night's Watch."
Jon was shocked by the suggestion. He felt his face flush with embarrassment and disbelief. "I won't do that! I don't want to father bastards, like I was!"
Benjen chuckled lightly, but there was little humor in his laughter. "Do you think the women of a brothel are interested in having children with a boy like you? There's moon tea, Jon. The prostitutes take it precisely to avoid unwanted children. They don't want bastards any more than you do. But before you commit to the Watch, you should at least know what you're giving up. And once you
take the oath, there's no going back," Benjen added, with a knowing look that suggested he'd seen this situation many times before. "Think of it as a final goodbye to your freedom."
Jon remained silent, his hands trembling slightly. The idea of lying with a prostitute was something he had never considered. But Benjen was showing him a side of life he had ignored, a reality he would have to leave behind once he swore his vows.
"You won't be the first, and you certainly won't be the last to experience the pleasures of the flesh before taking a vow of celibacy," Benjen added with a glance that spoke of countless brothers who had done the same. "Consider it."
Jon didn't answer but nodded, his mind spinning. The Wall was a one-way path, and perhaps Benjen was right: he should know what he was giving up.
"Go," Benjen said softly. "And if you want to reconsider, I'll be here in the morning."
Jon nodded again, not sure how he felt. Tomorrow, he would cross the border into his new life. But tonight, there was still something to understand — and perhaps, one last choice to make.
Jon Snow felt out of place in the rowdy atmosphere of the brothel. The southerners accompanying the king's entourage were scattered around the tables and halls, laughing loudly, drinking, and exchanging rude banter. Jon stayed on the edges, watching everything with growing discomfort. He was there at Benjen's insistence, but the environment felt unfamiliar and unsettling. When his eyes finally met Ros's, the famed prostitute of Wintertown, he felt his face flush.
Ros was known for her striking beauty and for knowing how to handle all sorts of men who passed through Winterfell. She had long red hair that gleamed under the torchlight, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. Her full lips were always curved into a slightly teasing smile, and her green eyes seemed to always evaluate her surroundings with a mix of curiosity and mischief. She wore a simple yet well-fitted dress that subtly outlined her curves, leaving little to the imagination.
She approached Jon with a friendly smile, noticing how out of place he felt. "A bit shy, aren't you, Jon Snow?" she said in a kind yet sensual tone. She softly ran her hand down his arm, in a gesture that was both calming and provocative.
"No need to be afraid, I don't bite... unless you want me to," she added with a wink, trying to ease his discomfort. Embarrassed, Jon averted his gaze but followed Ros as she led him down a narrow hallway, away from the commotion of the main hall.
Jon knew this was a moment he would never have again once he took his Night's Watch vows, but it all seemed so far from what he had imagined for himself.
When they reached the room, Ros opened the door slowly, taking her time. "Come," she said softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling at him, "It's quieter here. We can talk if you'd like."
She entered first, waiting for Jon to follow her into the room, where the atmosphere was more intimate, quieter, and less charged with tension than in the hall.
As Jon and Ros stepped into the room, the muffled sounds of laughter and chatter from the brothel faded behind them, replaced by a comfortable silence and the soft glow of torchlight. Ros closed the door, casting Jon a gentle look as if sensing his nerves but not wanting to pressure him. He remained still, his eyes nervously wandering around the room as he tried to find something to say.
Ros, always confident, approached him. Her well-fitted dress highlighted her figure, with long red hair cascading over her shoulders. She had a natural sensuality, but that wasn't the only thing that made men trust her. She knew how to listen and, more importantly, what to say.
"You seem troubled," she said with a slight smile, sitting on the edge of the bed, a short distance from Jon. "It's not just nerves from it being your first time, is it? There's something more."
Jon sighed, and after a brief pause, began to open up. "I'm going to the Wall tomorrow. Benjen told me it's a hard life... And I know there's no turning back once I take the vows. But... he also talked about how the Watch isn't what it used to be. That most of the men there are criminals and condemned men, not honorable soldiers." He rubbed his face, frustrated. "I don't know what to expect or if I'm ready for this."
Ros listened attentively, her warm gaze never leaving Jon, as if encouraging him to continue. While he spoke, she slowly began loosening the laces of her corset, her nimble fingers undoing the ties with a calmness that seemed almost deliberate.
"Jon," she said softly, her voice laden with wisdom, "you still have time. You don't need to decide your destiny right now or tie yourself to the idea that there's only one way to find honor." As she spoke, she pulled off her corset, revealing her shoulders and the start of her chest, her body shaped with curves that naturally drew attention, mesmerizing him.
She stood up slowly, walking around the room with the grace of someone completely in control of themselves. "You can go to the Wall, yes, see what it's like. But who said you have to swear your vows right away? You can find honor in other ways too." Jon watched her, torn between the serious conversation and the growing nervousness as he saw her slowly undress.
Now, with the dress hanging from her curves, she continued talking naturally, as if the act of undressing was just another part of the conversation. "Think, Jon... you could join a mercenary company in Essos. Or wander Westeros as a hedge knight. And who knows, in the future, your father might give you a castle to rebuild. The future is uncertain, Jon. You don't have to commit to the first option that comes up."
Jon was absorbing the words, all while not being able to ignore how Ros moved with ease, now fully naked, her soft skin glowing in the flickering light of the torches.
Ros approached Jon, her hand slowly brushing her thumb over his lips. The soft, gentle touch made Jon hold his breath. "I'll take care of you," she murmured with a welcoming smile. She leaned in, and her warm lips met his in a soft kiss. The sensation was completely new to him — strange, yes, but in a pleasant way that left him confused and anxious. Jon had never kissed a girl before, and the softness of her touch made him hesitate for a moment, trying to understand what he was feeling.
He tried to relax and, timidly, began to mimic Ros's movements. His lips pressed against hers with more firmness as he hesitantly raised his hand to her waist, holding her delicately and pulling her a little closer. Her skin was soft, and the warmth of her body was comforting.
After a few moments, Ros pulled away slightly, standing in front of him. Jon watched her with wide eyes, absorbing the sight in front of him. Her skin was fair, with a softness that reminded him of cream, while her fiery red hair gleamed like flames falling over snow. He couldn't look away from her naked body, from her perfectly rounded breasts, her firm belly, and full hips that stood out. His gaze, hesitant and inexperienced, traveled lower, stopping at the red triangle that adorned her femininity.
Quickly, he looked back at her face, embarrassed by his own curiosity, but Ros just smiled at him encouragingly. Her eyes were fixed on him, and there was something in that gleam that he couldn't identify. That look stirred something in Jon, a desire he had never felt before, a primal impulse that made him want to hold her tightly, pull her closer.
As Jon tried to process everything, he moved his hands to undress but soon realized he was trembling. His fingers were clumsy, unable to undo the ties of his clothes. Ros, noticing the difficulty, smiled understandingly and approached him again. "Maybe I can help you?" she asked softly, sitting next to him.
Gently, Ros began to remove Jon's clothes, undoing the knots of his garments slowly, almost as if savoring the moment. Each piece of clothing removed revealed more of Jon's young, strong body. Her fingers traced the well-defined muscles of his arms and chest, while she gently ran her hand over his skin, admiring the firmness of the young Stark's physique.
With each touch, Jon felt more vulnerable, but at the same time more awake, as if he was finally beginning to understand the intensity of everything that was happening.
When Ros lowered Jon's pants, she was met with a slap to her face. Jon's long penis was already dripping with pre-cum, and when it was freed, it slapped the red-haired prostitute directly in the face.
Jon flinched slightly at the involuntary contact, but Ros looked unblinkingly at the young virgin before her, licking her lips.
Ros held Jon's penis firmly, starting slow and rhythmic movements with her hand. Jon let out an involuntary sigh, his body tense as he felt her hand stimulating him with a skill he had never experienced. Ros's skillful touch, soft but firm, elicited low moans from his throat. He tried to maintain some control, but his body seemed to have a life of its own, responding intensely to each movement.
As she stimulated him, Ros kept her eyes locked on Jon's, smiling slightly as she saw the effect she was having on him. "It's alright," she whispered, her voice soft and encouraging, "enjoy it."
Without waiting much longer, Ros positioned herself over Jon, mounting him with an ease and grace that left him even more impressed. As she slowly lowered herself onto him, Jon felt the enveloping warmth of Ros's pussy, and the immediate pleasure was almost overwhelming. He couldn't help it—his body succumbed to the intensity of the moment, and he came quickly, feeling powerless against the force of his own excitement.
Ros giggled softly, caressing Jon's face as he tried to catch his breath. "Don't worry, that's normal," she said with a caring smile. "You're young... and we have all night."
And indeed, after a few moments to recover, Jon realized that his young, energetic body was ready to continue. He quickly recovered, and with Ros's gentle guidance, they started again.
Ros smiled as she felt Jon quickly regain himself, impressed by the boy's youth and energy. She began moving again, adjusting the rhythm, slowly lowering herself onto him as their bodies synchronized. Jon, still trying to absorb the experience, now held her waist, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as Ros dictated the pace, moving fluidly.
She moved up and down skillfully, and Jon's breathing grew heavier by the second. He felt the heat of her tight tunnel surrounding him, the warmth and pressure making the pleasure rise once more. Ros watched his reactions closely, noticing how he was adjusting to the rhythm, his moans becoming more controlled and intense.
Jon closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the new sensations coursing through his body. The pleasure was intense, and each movement from Ros seemed to amplify the feeling, bringing him closer to climax once again. Sensing this, she leaned forward, letting her breasts brush against Jon's chest as their lips met once more, muffling their moans.
The rhythm intensified, their movements faster and more intense now. The room was filled with the sounds of ragged breaths and bodies colliding. When Jon finally reached his climax once more, he felt Ros's pussy tighten around him, urging him to release everything at once.
Ros smiled as Jon breathed heavily, feeling his body relax beneath hers. She didn't let him rest for long, though. After a few moments, she moved again, ready to continue. Jon, though exhausted, was surprised to find that his body was ready for more.
The night stretched into a series of intense encounters. Ros guided Jon patiently, helping him learn the rhythms and pleasures his body was capable of offering. They had sex repeatedly, the heat of their bodies mixing as they explored each new sensation. Jon, though inexperienced at first, quickly adapted, gaining more confidence with each new attempt.
They stayed together throughout the night, with Jon fully surrendering to the experience under Ros's guidance, who led him with the same patience and skill as always.
When the night finally gave way to the first signs of dawn, Ros lay beside Jon, both sweaty and exhausted after the long night together. Jon looked at the ceiling, still trying to process everything he had experienced.
"So," Ros said softly, her voice now less teasing and more curious, "are you still going to the Night's Watch?"
Jon sighed, turning to look at her. "Yes... But I think you were right. I'll see with my own eyes first. I won't swear anything until I know if it's worth serving for life."
Ros smiled, admiring the maturity Jon was beginning to show. "You're smart. Don't let anyone rush your decisions." She paused before continuing. "If you decide to come back... or, I don't know, if you need a familiar face, I'll be in King's Landing. The king's entourage is taking me there."
Jon smiled faintly, the weight of responsibility still present but now with a new perspective. "Thank you, Ros. For everything."
Ros slowly got up, picking up her clothes and beginning to dress. "No one does anything for free, Jon," she said with an ironic smile. Jon understood, reaching for his pouch and paying her before they exchanged glances for the last time.
They said goodbye in silence. Jon felt that something inside him had changed, and as she disappeared down the corridor, he knew that the lessons of that night would follow him for the rest of his journey.
If you want access to chapters and one-shots earlier, go to my p-atreon . com (slash) katabrok