Chapter Text
Jon named him Ghost.
He was a tiny slip of a creature that couldn’t weigh more than his biggest goblet. His eyes, red as blood, were wide and watching. The both of them following Jon as he busied himself around the room. White as snow and silent as the dead, the little wolf was starkly different from the rest of his litter. Jon would be lying if he denied feeling some kinship with the little outcasted runt.
Digging through his room Jon was looking for a warmer cloak than the one he had ridden out with. The cold rarely penetrated deeply into Winterfell but it wasn’t the same for the Crypts.
He gave Ghost another side glance as the pup yawned, showing off finely sharpened teeth. Jon smiled slightly as he grabbed his riding cloak. Ghost would need to be kept warm as well. He was a runt and very skinny. Something that Jon would change as the pup stayed in his care.
There was a knock, “ Hello? Lord snow? “
“Aye. I am here. You may open.” Jon answered as he wrapped Ghost in the cloak. The small white head poking out of the bundles of cloth looked faintly comical and Jon hid a grin.
The door creaked and the young face of a serving girl stuck her head through, “ My Lord, I have been tasked with returning the clothing.”
She stepped in a bit more, her arms full with a large basket of linens and cloaks. His eyes focused and narrowed on the fur lining of the bottom garment.
“Good, I have been looking for my cloak.” Jon gestured at the item and the girl quickly moved around to grab it. She almost dropped the lot of it before he steadied her. Flashing a grateful smile his way she deftly pulled out the requested item and handed it over.
“Many thanks, Ellis.” Jon said as he threw the cloak over his shoulder, picked up his wrapped dire wolf, and left. He snorted as he heard the girl gasp slightly, of course, he knew her name. He knew most of the names of the servants willing to help him.
Lady Stark liked to make their lives more troublesome with longer and more exhausting chores. He paid them a bit more with his coin every time he noticed it. Not that he had much coin but he wasn’t one to spend so the amount built up with time. Father never noticed and no servant would dare complain to the Lord, especially when it concerned his wife. Everyone knew the Lord loved his wife, even if she was far too southern in the northerners' opinions.
Jon agreed. He’d agree even if the rest of the northerner's opinions were nonsense, which they weren’t. He’d do it for the express purpose of disagreeing with Lady Stark, it was petty but he liked to enjoy the small things in life.
The walk to the crypts was a quiet one, only disturbed by Jon’s footsteps and Ghosts snuffling every once in a while. The guards blocking the gate weren’t Lady Starks but they disliked him all the same. They would block his path if they could but Father had explicitly told them that his family was to be let in, Jon included.
Taking the offered torch from the bitter-faced guard, his dark beady eyes and shallow beardless face making him look not unlike a large hairless rat. It wasn’t the most flattering of appearances. Jon opened the door and shivered as they closed behind him.
The outside was cold, but the crypts were frigid.
Ghost sneezed.
Jon sneezed.
He blinked and looked down at his pup, amused despite himself. The crypts were dark and cold but Jon swaddled Ghost up close to him and pulled at his cloak as he went deeper and deeper. His home away from home, none of the Starks came here without father.
He had been the same before he realized that Lady Stark never went in, even if it was with the rest of the family. It was painfully obvious in those moments that she didn’t consider herself a Stark.
Even with that, the faces of the previous Starks staring down at him were always a sharp reminder. After all even if he was allowed to wander down here he would never be buried here. He wasn’t a Stark after all.
“Dreams can make you do such odd things.” He murmured his thoughts to Ghost as he turned towards a darkened corner. The dream he had last night being what brought him down in the first place.
“Down, left, right, down, forward, down, left, down, left, right, down, down.” Directions flowed quietly from his tongue as he moved deeper. His dream had been not unlike a maze, he was small and scurried around on paws instead of feet. He had panted and huffed, his tongue out as if he were a hound instead of a man.
By the end of the dream he had found something and remembered not what he had discovered, just that it was important.
The feeling stayed even through his waking hours. The need to confirm burned through his mind as the candle marks passed.
He squeezed himself through a rusty door that refused to open more than it already was, for the first time he thanked his thin and lanky stature; Robb would have never fit.
Jon had nothing else planned for the day, Lady Stark and Father having taken his siblings to discuss what would happen during the royal visit. Jon wasn’t trueborn so it didn’t matter if he was there, he was to avoid the royal family on principle.
With one more turn, he put his hand on the corner and immediately pulled it off grimacing as he examined his newly damaged skin. It was hot, burningly so, the future blisters his hand would have spoke to such.
Ghost had started to wiggle and fight so Jon let him out along with taking off his own cloak. He had been so deep in thought that he had barely noticed the rising temperature ( No, Robb, he was not brooding).
Ghost stopped at a dead end and Jon leaned down to pet his soft head looking up at the stone wall. He huffed, “This is why following dreams is nonsense.” He said, whispering into Ghosts’ soft fur, amused despite the wasted time.
Jon raised an eyebrow in question when Ghost fought out of his hold and began to sniff up and down the dead end.
He stood and stretched before calling out to Ghost, wanting the normally obedient pup to come back. Ghost wagged his tail, not giving Jon any acknowledgement as he stared at some of the water-softened stone; its smoothness standing out in the rough wall surrounding it. Jon sighed and leaned down to pick up the pup when Ghost turned surprising him and bit his finger.
Jon recoiled, biting his tongue to keep himself from making any loud sounds. As soon as he collected himself he hissed at Ghost, “The Gods, what was that for?” Avoiding the fact that the wolf wouldn’t understand him.
Ghost ignored him and licked the wall. Rude.
Jon squinted and asked, confused. “Ghost?”
Only to jump back as a large rumbling came from the surrounding corridor.
‘Oh God’s! It's going to collapse on us!’ Jon thought in panic and he picked up Ghost to run, the little wolf yelping in surprise. Then the wall that Ghost had licked disappeared. The rumbling stopped and steadied with only one or two small stones displaced instead of the collapse Jon had expected.
“Oh Gods.” Jon repeated out loud as he stared at the missing wall, heart beating rapidly from his shock. This was impossible.
Jon would have stared at the unbelievable sight for longer if it wasn't for the dust and stale air that made him cough. Waving his hand to fan away the dust Jon lost the fight with his curiosity and entered.
The room was almost empty save for a tomb and statue standing in the middle. It was too clean on second glance, not even small stones or dead flora like the rooms before it had had littered around.
Jon warily walked around the room, it was ancient. The iron sword of the Lord Stark depicted had long become an orange stain on the man's lap and hands. The massive wolf lying near the stone throne of man was new, or old depending on perspective. Jon wondered when the Starks had stopped putting Dire Wolves next to themselves in the crypts.
He looked over at Ghost who was eyeing the statue like a particularly tasty meal. They probably stopped making the statues like this when the Starks no longer had Dire Wolves as companions.
He looked curiously at the stone. Time had worn at a large amount of the features but Jon could tell that the man had borne a startling resemblance to himself. Well, not too startling, Jon was the only male with Stark blood of his generation that resembled the classic Starks of old.
Jon ignored Ghost as he scanned the tomb with rare scholarly interest. The script, no these were runes, he corrected himself.
His finger traced down the runes he could barely read. Words he vaguely knew from the stories told deep in the night by Old Gran.
“The Long Night…” Jon squinted as he translated what he could.
It was familiar, the characters. Ice spiders, giants, Brandon the Builder… Wights. Jon grinned, enjoying the new take on the many told story. For as familiar as the characters were, the story ran different. It had something he couldn’t read, a symbol he didn’t recognize.
“The man became wolf and wolf became man. It was decreed that they shall be - - -.” He pinched his lips as he memorized the symbol, determined to look it up in the family library later.
It wouldn’t be too odd of a thing for him to do. Maester Luwin was always neutral if not kind to him, willing to teach him without the direct order of his father. The direct order was because of Lady Starks' insistence that he would not be taught at all. Father had rejected her outright on that request but bent to her will on that Jon was never allowed to be taught with Rob or with Theon.
Not it mattered much in the end.
Robb quite disliked the library, books having little hold over the red haired boy. Theon even less so, especially after the older boy discovered the existence of brothels, then he never went. Enjoying the pleasure of flesh over that of the mind.
Jon could never imagine wasting his meager coin on such frivolous things. Then again he was a virgin, as Theon would say, and didn’t understand how every time was worth the coin. The oldest boy finding amusement in Jons oath to never father a bastard; his culture having no such care of the women and children involved in such actions. It was part of the reason why Jon found it so confusing that Robb enjoyed the Squids company.
Those two spent most of their time in the courtyard training or wandering about to places Rob wasn’t willing to speak about. The library being one of the areas Jon could cross off his mental list.
Rob having confided to Jon in one of his rare moments of openness that Maester Luwin was scarier than the Guard who went by the name Ournkin. The guard had been a childhood fear because of his thick facial scarring and concerning lack of nose. Most of the Stark children, including Jon had spent at least one year actively avoiding the man.
He would have felt bad if it wasn’t for the fact that he overheard from the man himself that he thought it was hilarious that the Lord's children were so scared of him. Jon had been small and silent, making eavesdropping on such conversations much easier than they should have been.
So, Jon had the library to himself, sans the morning lessons for Sansa and Arya. The lessons of which Sansa came out of half asleep and Arya came out of half feral, her overflowing energy pent up dangerously. Not unlike her wolf. The adorable, nasty little thing of a fur ball she was. Jon would have pitied Arya if it wasn't for the fact that Arya was the exact same.
Jon hissed hand flying down as Ghost bit at his ankles. The young wolf's fur bristled at the ends, small growls emitting from his snout once he had let go of his leg. Jon having picked up the shaking pup during the bite. He shivered as a deep chill entered his body and sat near his bones, the abnormal warmth disappearing faster than it had appeared.
“This couldn’t be…” Jon’s voice teetered out as he stared wide eyed at the statue.
The statue smiled with what little there was left of his mouth and winked with the indents that were left of his eyes.
Jon resisted the urge to faint. Then continued by resisting the urge to run, he would not shame his blood through such cowardice.
The statues shoulders shook as if it were laughing and moved his head side to side. Its long stone hair moving as if it wasn’t stone on a statue but hair on a living man. Jon felt Ghost relax in his hold and shifted as he relaxed with him. He’d had Ghost for less than a moon, it hadn’t even taken a week for Jon to realize the pups supernatural sense for the good or bad in people.
On another not Ghost seemed be able to avoid Lady Stark with beautiful precision. Jon loved him all the more for it.
The Statue gestured for Jon to come closer, moving a stained stone hand in a ‘come here’ motion.
Jon caught himself before he could move his head to reflexively shake it in the negative, this was after all his ancestor.
Not in name but in blood and Jon would not be the cause of such disrespect.
He a step forward and bowed, introducing himself as he did so. “I am Jon,” He said, withholding his bastard status for the moment. “ It is a pleasure to meet you My Lord.”
The outline of the statue's mouth widened. It was surprisingly warm smile on such a vague face.
Continuing forward it hadn’t taken him more than eight steps to be within hands' reach of the statue. Ghost, the traitor, was begging to be set down. Jon tightened his hold. The statue, smile softening, cupped his hands towards him as if asking to hold the pup.
Jon shifted to give the wolf over, carefully watching the Pups reaction.
There was none and Jon stared narrow eyed as the statue held Ghost as if he was the most precious thing he had ever seen. He was, to Jon; it being a bit odd to see that look on someone other than himself.
The Statue shifted, holding Ghost in one arm. Jon watched confusion and shock settling in, this entire situation was that of a fireside story and Jon was half convinced that he was trapped in a dream having fallen from reality with the help of sleep. He wasn’t of course asleep, his finger still stung from where Ghost had bit him earlier.
He had focused so intently on Ghost that he stiffened and stumbled back in surprise when something cold pressed into his forehead.
“What? My Lord, why did you-” The Statue ignored Jons confusion as he did the same to Ghost, leaving a rusty stain on the pup's fur.
Setting Ghost down, the statue shooed Jon away. Ghost having ran and settled himself firmly by Jon’s feet.
Confusion evident on his face, Jon not even bothering to hide it, he picked Ghost up and stepped away from the magic Statue…was this magic? Leaving his contemplations on the validity of magic really existing, he watched as the statue of his ancestor raised its hands.
And.
Clapped.
Jon tilted his head, eyes on the stone hands as the sharp sound of stone hitting stone echoed throughout the halls and passageways of the crypt.
Then it happened.
The space around the hands rippled as if it were water in a pond and not empty stale air. The ripple traveled out before another showed and another. Soon the entirety of Jon’s world started blur with the intensity of the ripples. He looked in awe and no small amount of fear as the world around him started to distort.
Suddenly, Jon - Knew.
Suddenly, Jon - Felt.
(Joy . Apprehension . Hunger)
Jon felt the world run through his fur and the pain as everything truly and fully connected.
Then it all went black.
“Jon! Jon, Jon, Jon, JON! Wake. Up! Stupid head!” Jon sat up groaning in pain, he twisted to protect his now bruised stomach. Jon squinted one eye open to give a halfhearted glare towards the evil little Grumpkin above him. The grey eyed Grumpkin giggled and threateningly lifted her foot up again as if to stomp on him a second time. (Playfulness . Happy . Not attack)
He grabbed her ankle and forcefully, carefully pulled the weapon of pain disguised as a little girls foot down. He gracefully ignored the indignant ‘Hey!’ that followed as he shook enough of his exhaustion away to respond.
“Oi, I’m awake. I’m awake. Keep your foot down and away you little Monster.” He said humor lacing his tone as he leaned up against the Weirwood.
Arya ( Little Sister . Protect . Pack) huffed and did as she was told. Jon was momentarily glad that he wasn’t Robb at the moment, she most certainly would have stepped on him again.
(Disobedient . Young one . Teach)
Robbs bad habit of talking down to her as if she were an invalid did no favors for the older boy. Arya rarely if ever listened to him. “Father said that I am to avoid you when the King gets here,” Arya said, voice soft as she glared at the pond in front of them. “ He said that I am to be the perfect Lady whilst the Royal family is visiting. If not he will take away our riding lessons and increase my time with Septa Mordane and Mother.”
Jon leaned back, looking up towards the carved face of the Weirwood as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Words not meaning anything, it wasn’t as if Jon, her bastard brother, could change the mind of her father, the Lord of WinterFell, Warden of the North.
(Closed off . Unlistening . Unworthy leader)
Jon shook his head as he shifted his body to let Arya bury herself into his side. The nine year old still small enough to do so.
They sat under the tree for a few minutes with no words shared. The silence lasted up until Arya spoke, question heavy in her tone.
“Why were you sleeping here?” She said, grey eyes tilting up to meet his own. Speaking her mind, not fearing his reaction like she does her with her mother. “ Usually you're down in the crypts during family meetings. I thought I’d have to wait till after dark to speak with you.”
She wasn’t wrong, when down in the Crypts Jon more often than not would lose track of time. Coming back after dark was not abnormal on the days he would go down.
Arya frowned as her eyes moved up, “ -and what is on your face?” She poked him on the forehead right above his nose. Jon moved his finger into her palm and pushed it away, ignoring the odd feeling of Deja-vu that had come from the action.
(Something missing . Important . Hungry )
Jons stomach growled in synch with Ghosts, the silent wolf having appeared from the bushes not even seconds earlier.
“Oh! You did miss lunch,” Arya laughed, having heard the sound lying to so close to him. “Bran and I saved some for you. Come on it’s in my room.”
Jon gave a small smile as Arya turned and ran towards her room, Jon not far behind as he walked. Arya and Bran did this every time he missed a meal, worry over him like Lady Stark does for them. It was adorable.
He made a point to not miss meals to often. He had spend a few months as kid, probably around Aryas age now, barely eating. It had been after a brutal beating Lady Stark had her personal guards give him. His body had hurt for weeks afterwards but truly it was her words that stuck the longest.
‘A Bastard is not to be seen, they shouldn’t even be allowed near my true-born. If Ned had done the correct thing and drowned you at birth! We wouldn’t be having these problems with you!’
She would go on as a guard landed a particularly nasty blow to his ribs, bemoaning her poor, poor children. Having to be the only ones with the disgrace of growing up with a bastard half-brother.
Lady Stark has many words for Jon, none good. None kind.
His ribs had ached for ages. It was later that he thought that they might have been fractured when he got a similar injury in training.
He had given Father a panic when it was discovered he wasn’t eating. The event of their Fathers tears seemed to have been trapped in Aryas memory, she having been barely four at time.
It was, most likely, the first and only time she had seen Father cry.
It had been not long after that she had started saving him food for missed meals. As time passed she seemed to have given the habit to Bran as well.
Jon walked after Arya as she ran, jumped and dodged the busy people of WinterFell as they did their jobs.
Aryas room, despite the efforts of her dutiful maid servant, was set in an organized chaos. Jon stopped at the doorway as Arya bounded in, mirroring Nymeria who joined when Arya started her sprint.
(Older sister . Little sister . Running-fast)
The grey pup, twice the size of ghost, whined when Arya held the plate of food up and out of reach. The pup having shot towards it the moment she caught the scent.
Jon had smelled it as well, it was surprisingly strong for such a mild dish.
He snatched Aryas hand, stopping the girl from stuffing a roll into his mouth. She having tried to sneak up on him while he focused on Nymeria. Jon grinned, amused and pried the bruised pieces of bread from her hand to take a bite.
Arya opened her mouth, words barely formed before she sneezed.
Nymeria sneezed behind her, the action shaking the pup from her pouting.
Rubbing her nose in a fashion that would have Lady Stark shrieking, Arya spoke. “ I heard that Father and the King used to be childhood friends. Robb said that he thinks Father is going to be rewarded.”
Sitting near the wall outside her room, Jon listened as Arya recounted what had happened during the meeting. He hummed and nodded as he started to eat.
Swallowing what was left of the soup, potato and herbs, not bad not the best. He gave Arya a side glance, showing her the empty bowl when she gave him a petulant glare.
The second she looked away Jon gave the bowl to Ghost. The white ball of fluff attacked the bowl devouring the piece of meat Jon had snuck in it.
”From what I have learned and heard, rewards in South are far different from rewards here in the North.”
Arya rose an eyebrow, something she learned from him. None of Lady Starks true-born children would do something so common as to shrug shoulders or raise eyebrows. She said it was cowardly to not speak when you could.
( Foolish . Unworthy . Wrong)
Jon had resisted the urge to snort when she had told Robb such when they were younger.
”Different? Why would rewards be different? Can’t the king just give Father something he needs?” Aryas question struggled to be heard as they moved towards the kitchen. Jon wanting to drop off his dishes before training.
Her confusion was valid. Jon thought the same. “ People from the South like to over complicate things. When we would fine with gold, land or even more population, people. Robb thinks, correctly so, that they are here for a lie.”
”A lie?” Aryas voice was flat, he could almost imagine her calling him ‘Stupid’ in her head. He set the dishes on the table near the kitchen door and waved off the thanks he got from Louis.
He looked away as Arya swiped a few meat rolls from the night’s preparation.
( Thief . Good job . Amusement)
” A lie,” He confirmed, nodding. He looked back to see Arya trailing after him. “ Father says the those in the South are selfish. They do not give unprompted and it is never willing. If the King is coming here, gift to give or not, he wants something. Something that only Father can give. Something the South doesn’t have.”
Arya made a soft sound of understanding, her steps speeding up as she walked next to him.
Looking up meeting his eyes, she continued, “ What do we have that the King would want? Doesn’t he have everything?”
Jon hummed, seeing that they were nearing the courtyard.
“Everything, no not everything.”
He picked up a practice sword, his favorite, it was second best when it came to balance. Robb having claimed the best and Theon rarely picking up sword to bother choosing any certain one.
”-and for what he wants with Father?” Jon pushed Arya towards the benches when she tried to follow him out to where Ser Rodrik was.
“ I don’t know.” Then he shrugged, gave her secretive grin and walked away.
Her cry of outrage was drowned out by Nymerias howl. The sound distracting the girl as the fur ball wagged her tail and ran, Aryas stolen meat roll in her mouth.
( Anticipation . Prepared . Hunt)
Ser Rodrik stood in the middle of the training ground, silver hair gleaming in what little sunlight could poke from the northern clouds. Jon read the man’s amusement as he followed Aryas and Nymeria’s chase as they vanished behind walls.
” That wolf is going to be death of half the castle.” The man said, eyes trailing back towards Jon.
“ Just the wolf?” Jon said, a wry smile stretching his lips.
The knight let out loud bark of laughter, startling the smaller group of guards that were on the other side of the yard.
”Ah, ah. Good one lad.” The man took a deep breath as he collected himself.
His Father Master at Arms was not unlike Maester Luwin in their treatment of Jon. Neutral, in when teaching but kind nonetheless.
(Teacher . Kind . Dangerous)
Jon followed the man’s instructions as he directed him in familiar stretches and movement.
”Your brother and his pet Squid are late again.” Ser Rodrik said, waving for Jon stand up. “Unfortunately, for you, I’ll be having you run the castle walls till they show again.”
Jon let his head fall back and held back the whine of protest that bubbled in his throat. He succeeded, barely. The effort made him cough. It was short bark of a cough, and Ser Rodrik chortled when he heard it.
” Yer Uncle would make that sound every time he didn’t want to do something.” The man looked nostalgic as he looked up at the walls. It wasn’t very long before he looked back down unimpressed. “ Well, why are you still here? Get up there.”
Sighing Jon set the sword back and hiked up to the wall. Robb being late wasn’t abnormal.
Jon glanced down, seeing the small body of ghost walking next to him. The pup gave a small bark, wagged his tail and started to run.
Jon watched stunned for a second as the wolf ran along Jon’s usual path. He snapped out if when the pup barked again.
Taking off his cloak Jon ran towards the wolf ahead of him.
( Chase . Playing . Run- run-run)
He found the chill of the summer air relaxing as paced himself next to Ghost. The wall was clear the many servants that usually walked to the wall focused on preparing for the king.
Jon, like Arya, was curious about the king. King Robert Baratheon, first of his name was large imposing character in the stories told by father. Truth be told Jon knew very little about the South, his focus having stayed in the North.
What Jon knew came from stories from father and the few lessons Maester Luwin insisted on.
Jon shifted his body and jumped over a fallen stack of wood. Ghost having done the same seconds before.
Maester Luwin was oddly insistent on rounding out his knowledge on the South, sometimes Jon would wonder why the Maester was bothering teach g the bastard such things.
Lady Starks expression when Jon had told Father what he had learned the few times Father asked were priceless. She had looked like she had suckled a lemon cake, her having no taste for her eldest daughters favorite dessert.
“Jon.” Someone said from far away.
Not that Jon liked the cakes either but it was the principle of the matter.
”Jon!” A familiar voice yelled.
He let himself slow to a stop, lungs pushing and pulling in pleasant burn. Ghost continued to run, his enjoyment in the activity obvious.
Turning towards who called him, Jon spotted Robb and Ser Rodrik down and ready in the yard. He gave them a wave not bothering to yell back as he started down the wall.
Robb was sparring with his future Master at Arms by the time Jon was down and ready, sword in hand.
”Look at you Snow!” Robb laughed coming towards him, bit bruised on the arm where Ser Rodrik had hit multiple times. “You’d think you had a bear chasing ya up there. What was the rush, normally you’re barely above when forced up there?”
Robb gave Jon a wide friendly smile, crinkling his many freckles as he did so. It was his charming smile the one he used on Lords and Lordlings to get what he wanted. Jon found it amusing every time it was turned towards him, it having very little effect on himself.
It was more amusing when he realized that Robb knew this and still did so.
Jon rose an eyebrow, “ Had some energy to get rid of, didn’t have to sit and use my brain like you did this afternoon.”
“Hmm, uh huh.” Robb hummed, calling his bullshit but letting it stand with no more questions. If there was one thing Robb was better at than Father it was telling the truth from lies, especially when it came to Jon.
”-and Jon.” Robb called out as Jon stepped towards the yard, Ser Rodrik having called him. The red head looked mildly confused, “ You have something on your forehead, it was hidden behind your hair at first but there’s definitely something there. I’d take a washcloth after training if I were you.”
Jon blinked and nodded, running a thumb over his forehead and above his nose. Hadn’t Arya said the same thing earlier?
Jon looked over at the stands sensing more than seeing Ghost appear there.
He frowned.
Had Ghost always had that spot on his forehead? Jon stared until he was forced to look away dodging the practice sword that came at his neck.
”Pay attention boy!” Ser Rodrik barked. Leaving Jon to focus on not getting anymore bruises than the ones he already has. Most coming from the day before.
By the time the spar was over Robb and Ghost were gone and Jon had the creeping feeling that he was forgetting something.
( Instinct . Danger -Wind through his fur, through his hair-)
(Hunt . Hunger)