"Why are you leaving? Stay here!", Arya whined, clinging to his leg like a parasite. The little wolf cub didn't want her big brother to leave. A sad smile crossed over his face.
"I can't stay here forever, Arya. I want to become something greater. I will still visit you. Once you are older, maybe you can even become my squire", he half joked. Arya didn't pick up on it and wiped away her tears.
"You mean it?"
"Yes, we will be just like ser Brunhild and Jeremia"
Ser Brunhild and Jeremia were Story book characters from old Nan's stories. The crone insisted that the two had really lived in Westeros, many, many years ago. Brunhild was a stereotypical knight in shining armor, from an important house, though nan never said which, and Jeremia was a peasant who had worked his way up to the squire of Brunhild. The stories had great moral lessons for the young lords and ladies. Be kind, be just, be brave, listen to your parents and much more.
"You have to write me!", Arya looked at him with big, puppy eyes that put all others to shame.
"And since when can you read that well?", she was young still.
"I'll have the maester read them to me until I can read well enough. You have to promise! Promise me Jon!"
"I promise", he chuckled, Arya was just so adorable. Arya seemed satisfied, no longer crying, instead just silently hugging his leg, "I'll miss you"
"I'll miss you too, little cub"
He could feel her body warmth pressed up against his leg, desperately clinging to it. He looked around. They were in one of the stone hallways of Winterfell, stretching into the distance in front and in back. Small windows were sporadically placed across the hallway, letting sunlight stream in, though there were still torches lit to provide better visibility. No one was around, perfect… he asked, in a low voice, "you want to see something grand?"
The little wolf cub nodded weakly.
Jon swung his arm and let the magic flow through the air, extinguishing the torches. Now the hallway was dark, with only the windows every once in a while shedding light.
"Woah- how did you-?"
"Look here", he interrupted her and held up his open palm. Above it, light manifested in the dark hallway. Two dragons circling each other, one black and one white, with a wolf cub riding on the black dragons back. Their tails intertwined and they spew fire, which formed two crowns of sparks, each resting on the dragon's heads. He then extinguished the illusion and the hallway turned dark once more. Though he could still see little Arya thanks to his enhanced senses. She was wide eyed, with an open mouth, "how- how did you do that?"
"Magic", with a wave of his hand, the extinguished torches were lit once more.
"But magic is dead! Maester Luwin said so!"
"And the septa says you should be a proper lady… not everything you hear is true"
Magic in Westeros had truly nearly gone extinct, with the dragons gone. His magic though didn't seem to be effected. If he had to guess, he would say it was because he was technically now a frost giant. Just like dragons, he was made of magic. Maybe his mere presence had already rejuvenated some of the magic. He was sure it was nowhere as much as three fucking dragons but it should be noticeable.
Jon and Arya walked silently through the hallway after he had told her to keep this a secret. No one would likely even believe her but better safe than sorry. She agreed, it was 'their little secret'.
They arrived at the dining hall, where the others were already waiting. Jon sat down at his usual spot, far away from Lady Stark. He was allowed to sit at the same table as them only because they were alone. At official feasts, he, as a bastard, would sit at another table, something Catelyn would've preferred to always be the case. Soon enough, she no longer would have to worry about that. Ever since it was announced that he would leave, Lady Stark was quite cheerful. She never understood why Lord Stark hadn't just left him with his mother… if only she knew…
They were served roast wolf, a delicacy only found in the north, where wolves roamed in over abundance. With it was served boiled potatoes. The food was quite bland, though Jon had bought plenty of herbs from Auntie Bry and secretly added them to his dish, making it much more enjoyable. The north had little in terms of herbs and spices, though at least they got plenty of salt, though it wasn't as high quality as what he was used to.
The meat was tender, almost falling apart. It had been slow cooked over hours.
"Is it true?" Theon asked, "the bastard is finally leaving? Good, no one wants him here"
"Shut up, Greyjoy", Arya spat with venom.
"Arya! A lady shouldn't speak like that", Catelyn chided, "and he is right, the bastard being gone is a good development"
The little cub huffed and crossed her arms, clearly not happy being called a lady. Arya had always hated the thought of being a lady, ever since she was old enough to realize what that meant. She didn't want to meet a knight in shining armor to carry her away, she wanted to be that knight in shining armor.
Sansa nodded enthusiastically, mimicking her mother's distaste for Jon. The septa preached how bastards were sins against the gods, that only further cemented her dislike of her baseborn brother.
Robb looked… conflicted, clearly not quite knowing what to make of the situation. He loved his brother and didn't want him to leave, yet he always felt overshadowed by him, building resentment. Robb was good with the sword but Jon? Jon was a prodigy with the spear. And even when they used swords, he never got the overwhelming victory that he so craved. The bastard worked most of his time with the spear and yet, when they fought with swords, the weapon he specialised in, his victory wasn't guaranteed. He was faster than Robb, way faster and his blows packed more punch, it was frustrating.