章 10: Chapter 9
Jon and Ser Arthur finally arrived at the towering gates of Castle Black, and he had to admit it was just as imposing as he'd imagined from the shows and books. The sky was a dreary canvas of gray, and the biting wind felt like it was trying to freeze his very essence. Welcome to the True North, right?
As Jon dismounted, he had to suppress the urge to look around like a tourist. It was a surreal experience. One minute, he was a 16-year-old binge-watcher sitting on his couch, and the next, he was walking into one of the most iconic locations from his favorite fantasy series. And he wasn't just a passive viewer anymore—he was Jon Snow, living the plot.
Ser Arthur was beside him, cool and collected as if he'd done this a thousand times. He was like the wise mentor who always seemed to have a game plan, which Jon appreciated more than ever right now.
They approached the gates, and Jon tried to sound authoritative despite feeling like he was about to have a major fanboy moment. The guards gave them a once-over, but once they saw the Stark sigil, they stepped aside without much fuss.
Entering the courtyard was like stepping onto a movie set. The area buzzed with activity, filled with the rugged and battle-worn members of the Night's Watch, each one looking like they'd just walked off a page from a medieval adventure. Jon took it all in, fighting the urge to pinch himself and make sure this wasn't some elaborate dream.
"We're here," Jon said, trying to keep his voice steady. He felt like he was channeling every heroic character he'd ever watched or read about. "Let's find the Lord Commander, report the deserter, and handle the rest of the crucial stuff."
Ser Arthur nodded, his demeanor calm and focused. They started making their way through the busy courtyard, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone. The cold air was thick with the smell of woodsmoke and pine, a constant reminder of the wild and unforgiving world just beyond the Wall.
If this were one of his favorite fantasy series, Jon thought, there would definitely be a dramatic soundtrack swelling right about now. But instead, it was just him and Ser Arthur, diving headfirst into the story with all the gravity of an epic quest. No special effects, no cinematic build-up—just a 16-year-old thrown into a medieval world, ready to face whatever came next.
—
As Jon and Ser Arthur approached the Lord Commander's quarters, Jon felt like he was about to face a dragon in one of those epic fantasy games he used to obsess over. The fortress loomed before them, its stone walls straight out of one of those fantasy novels he'd devoured on weekends. The cold wind biting at his cheeks was a harsh reminder of how far he was from the cozy warmth of his old life.
With every step, Jon tried to shove aside his nerves and focus on the mission. Ser Arthur, ever the reliable sidekick, walked beside him. Jon felt a flicker of confidence, thinking this was just like one of his favorite fantasy scenes—except he was the one in the hot seat.
Then, as if the universe had a sense of humor, they were confronted by Ser Alliser Thorne, the Master-at-Arms. The guy had the enthusiasm of a grumpy doorman who'd just seen one too many visitors.
"What business do you have here?" Ser Alliser demanded, sounding like he'd just stepped out of a bad guy's handbook.
Jon took a deep breath and tried to channel all the bravery he'd mustered from his old life. "We need to see the Lord Commander," he said, attempting to sound authoritative. "We've got urgent news about a deserter from the Night's Watch."
Ser Alliser's eyebrows shot up, clearly skeptical. "Deserter, you say? And who might you be to come here with such claims?"
Jon bristled but kept his cool. "I'm Jon Snow," he declared, channeling his inner hero. "And this is Ser Donnel, a knight in service to House Stark. We're here on behalf of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North."
Ser Alliser's smirk was like something straight out of a villain's playbook. "Ah, House Stark," he said, dripping with sarcasm. "A house known for its rebellious streak. Tell me, Lord Stark's bastard, does the apple fall far from the tree? Or are you as headstrong and foolish as your aunt, Lyanna Stark?"
Jon's jaw clenched at the mention of Lyanna, and he had to fight to keep his cool. If this were one of his favorite shows, now would be the moment for a dramatic musical swell. Instead, he was facing off against a grumpy knight. Ser Arthur looked ready to intervene, but Jon raised a hand, signaling him to stay back.
"Lyanna Stark was brave and honorable," Jon said, his voice icy and controlled. "She deserves more respect than you're willing to give."
Ser Alliser's smirk widened, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. "Brave and honorable, perhaps," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "But she was just another Stark who met a tragic end due to her own mistakes."
Jon's eyes flashed with defiance. He had to stay focused, but this guy was really pushing his buttons. "Oh, and you were a Targaryen loyalist, right?" he said, his tone sharp. "It's a shame they didn't have better fighters. Maybe they would have done better in Robert's Rebellion."
Ser Alliser's face darkened, his fists clenching as he struggled to keep his cool. "You dare mock the honor of those who fought for a righteous cause?" he growled, his voice a storm on the verge of breaking.
Jon met his gaze head-on, his voice steady. "Protecting a king who liked to burn people alive doesn't exactly scream 'righteous cause,'" he retorted, feeling a rush of defiance.
Ser Alliser's face turned a deeper shade of anger. "You know nothing of loyalty or honor, you worthless bastard," he spat.
Jon's resolve hardened. He knew that losing his temper would only make things worse. "You're entitled to your opinion, Ser Alliser," Jon said, trying to stay as calm as possible. "But loyalty and honor are earned, not inherited. I'll prove my worth to my family, regardless of what you think."
With that, Jon turned away, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor as he continued toward the Lord Commander's quarters. Ser Arthur followed, his face a mask of stoic professionalism. The encounter with Ser Alliser had left a sour taste, but Jon pushed it aside, focusing on the mission. There were bigger things at stake than a grumpy knight's personal vendetta.
—
As Jon and Ser Arthur neared the Lord Commander's solar, Jon felt like he was stepping into one of those epic fantasy moments he'd watched so many times. This was the big scene—the moment of truth. He needed to be on point.
He knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the stone corridor like the dramatic drumroll in a high-stakes showdown.
When the door swung open, Jon found himself face-to-face with Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. The man looked like he'd walked straight out of a fantasy novel: stern, grizzled, and all-around badass. His gaze was sharp, making Jon feel like he was under a spotlight.
"Lord Commander Mormont," Jon said, trying to channel his inner hero. "Ser Donnel and I have urgent news about a deserter from the Night's Watch. May we come in?"
Mormont's eyes narrowed with interest. He stepped aside, giving them a commanding nod. "Of course. Enter, and let's hear what you have to say."
As they entered the solar, Jon could almost hear the cinematic background music swelling. Mormont's attention was clearly on him, likely informed of the earlier drama with Ser Alliser Thorne. Jon felt like he was in one of those moments where the hero had to prove himself.
"Jon Snow," Mormont's voice was deep and thunderous, like a storm brewing. "I understand you had an... interesting encounter with Ser Alliser Thorne."
Jon gave a tight nod, his nerves buzzing like he was about to face a boss battle. "Yes, Lord Commander. Ser Alliser and I don't see eye to eye."
Mormont's lips twitched, possibly hinting at a smirk. "So it seems," he agreed, sounding slightly amused. "But let's set that aside. You mentioned urgent news about a deserter. What have you discovered?"
Jon took a deep breath, focusing on the gravity of the situation. "Lord Commander, I request the presence of my uncle, Benjen Stark, the First Ranger. This matter affects the Night's Watch as a whole, and his experience would be invaluable."
Mormont considered this, his brow furrowing in thought. "Very well," he said finally, his voice firm but not unkind. "I'll summon Ranger Stark. We'll hear what you have to say and decide on the next steps."
Jon nodded gratefully, trying to suppress his nerves. As he waited for his uncle to arrive, his mind raced with the enormity of what lay ahead. The fate of the Westeros—and possibly more—depended on their next moves. Jon knew he had to be ready for whatever came next, and this was just the beginning.
—
As Jon and Ser Arthur waited in the Lord Commander's solar, Jon's gaze fell on a familiar object: Longclaw, the Valyrian steel sword of House Mormont. Seeing it up close felt like catching a glimpse of a beloved character from one of his favorite shows. It was surreal, like meeting Gandalf in real life. He couldn't help but admire the sword's sleek, deadly beauty.
Jeor Mormont noticed Jon's fascination and let out a gruff chuckle. "I see you've spotted Longclaw," he said, his voice carrying a blend of pride and warmth. "It's a remarkable blade, one that's served House Mormont for generations."
Jon nodded, trying to keep his enthusiasm under control. "It's impressive," he said, feeling like a kid meeting a superhero. "Valyrian steel is rare and valuable. It's incredible to see it in person."
Mormont's amusement deepened. "Aye, it is. But remember, it's not just the sword that makes the man, but how he wields it. I've seen enough to know you've got a good head on your shoulders. Unfortunately, I'm too old to wield it properly myself."
At that moment, Benjen Stark entered the solar. His eyes widened with surprise upon seeing Jon, revealing a flicker of hope beneath a veil of sadness.
"Jon," Benjen said, his voice a mix of surprise and sorrow. "Are you finally here to join the Night's Watch?"
Jon met his uncle's gaze with a serious expression. "No, Uncle Benjen," he replied steadily. "I'm not here to take the black."
Relief washed over Benjen, and the sadness in his eyes gave way to warmth. "Jon," he said, his voice softening. "I always hoped you'd experience life beyond the Wall. The Night's Watch is noble, but it's not the only path available."
Jon felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you, Uncle Benjen," he said sincerely. "I know my choices might not always align with others' expectations, but I'm trying to find my own way."
Benjen nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "I understand, Jon. But tell me—what made you reconsider joining the Night's Watch?"
Jon took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I've always been drawn to the Night's Watch," he admitted, his voice thoughtful. "But recent events have made me question if it's truly the path for me."
He paused, emotions swirling within him. "Uncle Benjen," Jon continued, his voice filled with emotion, "Father gave me a letter from Mother on my sixteenth nameday. In it, she asked me, as her dying wish, to live a full life and have a family."
The room fell silent as Jon revealed the letter's contents, the weight of his mother's final words hanging heavily in the air.
Benjen listened, his expression grave as he processed the significance of Jon's revelation. "That's... a heavy request," he murmured, his voice carrying a mix of sadness and reverence. "To carry our mother's wishes even in death... it's a significant responsibility."
Jon nodded, feeling the gravity of his mother's words. "It is," he said resolutely. "But it's a burden I'm willing to bear—for her and for our family."
Benjen regarded Jon with a mix of pride and sympathy. "I'm sure you'll honor her memory," he said with conviction. "Whatever path you choose, remember you carry the strength of our House with you."
Before the conversation could delve deeper, Mormont's voice cut through the solemnity. "Jon, Benjen," he said, his tone firm but compassionate. "We need to address the matter of the deserter."
Jon and Benjen exchanged a look of understanding, refocusing their attention. Jon turned back to Mormont, his expression determined.
"Of course, Lord Commander," Jon said. "The deserter's case takes precedence. Before his execution, he spoke of something unnatural beyond the Wall."
Mormont raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident. "White Walkers, you say?" he asked, doubt clear in his voice. "Are you certain this deserter's tale is credible? Men often see things in the dark that aren't real."
Jon's jaw tightened with resolve. "I understand your doubt, Lord Commander," he said firmly. "But the fear in the deserter's eyes was real. If there's any truth to his words, we can't afford to ignore it."
Mormont's gaze was thoughtful as he weighed Jon's words. After a moment, he nodded solemnly. "Very well. We'll investigate further, but we must proceed with caution until we have more evidence."
Benjen suggested sending a party of Rangers to investigate.
"That's an excellent idea," Mormont agreed. "A party of Rangers can gather valuable information without committing all our resources. And who better to lead the mission than one of our seasoned Rangers?"
Benjen stepped forward with determination. "I volunteer to lead the mission," he said. "I know the lands beyond the Wall and am prepared for whatever we might encounter."
"Very well, Benjen," Mormont said. "You'll lead the Rangers in investigating these reports. May the Old Gods protect you on your journey."
Jon added, "However, this can only happen after Uncle Benjen returns from Winterfell. King Robert is on his way there, and he will expect the Stark household to be present."
Mormont's brow furrowed. "You're right," he conceded. "The King's visit is crucial. We can't afford to be absent during such significant events."
Benjen nodded in agreement. "Aye, the King's presence demands House Stark's full attention. We can't be away."
Mormont's expression hardened with resolve. "Then it's settled. We'll wait for Benjen's return before beginning the mission. In the meantime, we'll prepare for any challenges that come our way."
"Agreed," Jon said. "We'll use this time to prepare and ensure we're ready for Winterfell."
Mormont nodded. "We'll gather supplies and make necessary arrangements for the journey."
Benjen's determination was clear. "Let's get started. We have much to prepare."
Jon added, "While I'm here, could I arrange a meeting with the Maester of Castle Black? I'd also like to see the Weirwood Tree beyond the Wall."
Benjen's tone was friendly. "I'll arrange for you to meet Maester Aemon. He has a wealth of knowledge."
Mormont offered a reassuring smile. "And I'll have someone show you the Weirwood Tree. It's a sacred place for the Night's Watch, and I'm sure you'll find it enlightening."
---
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