Benjen Stark

The thick stone walls shut out the clamor of the feast.

Below the First Keep, there was only the wind.

It whistled through the crenellations, stirring dead leaves and snow from the ground.

Lynn stood in the silent shadows.

The longsword in his hand reflected shifting gleams of cold light beneath the pale moon.

He was not practicing broad, sweeping moves.

Only the most basic thrusts, blocks, and evasions.

He repeated each movement hundreds of times.

The ache in his muscles gave him a little more control over this body.

Sweat slid down Lynn's temple, only to be dried by the icy night wind, which stole the last trace of warmth from his skin.

Footsteps approached from a distance.

They were light, with a hint of hesitation.

Lynn stopped moving, but his grip on his sword did not loosen.

He turned.

Jon Snow stood a short distance away, a blunt practice sword in his hand as well.

He wore no finery for the feast, only plain black leather armor.

On his handsome face, which did not resemble those of House Stark, was a loneliness utterly at odds with the feast.

"I thought I was the only one here."

Jon's voice was low.

Lynn sheathed his sword.

"So did I."

Jon came over and stopped beside Lynn.

He gazed at the tower, brightly lit against the night, and remained silent for a long while.

"They're all inside."

Jon's tone was flat, betraying no emotion.

"Cheering, drinking, celebrating the king's arrival."

"And all I can do is stand out here."

Lynn said nothing.

He knew Lady Catelyn would not allow Jon at the high table.

At such a grand occasion, the presence of a bastard was the greatest humiliation she could suffer.

Jon gave a self-mocking smile.

"Sometimes, I really want to leave this place."

He raised his blunt sword and slashed at a training dummy.

"Go somewhere nobody knows me."

"Somewhere my surname isn't Snow anymore."

His gaze settled on Lynn.

There was a searching look in his eyes.

"Tell me, is the Wall really the only place for me?"

Before Lynn could answer, another voice came from the shadows behind them.

"The Wall is no one's home, boy."

The voice was steady, with the rasp characteristic of the North.

Lynn's pupils suddenly contracted.

A figure on horseback emerged from the darkness.

He wore worn black clothes and had a lean frame, his face chiseled by wind and frost.

His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.

He was Benjen Stark.

Lord Ned's younger brother, First Ranger of the Night's Watch.

"Uncle Benjen!"

The loneliness vanished from Jon's face, replaced by the delight of seeing family.

He respected Benjen as much as he did his own father, Ned.

Benjen nodded to Jon in greeting.

His gaze, however, passed over Jon and settled directly on Lynn.

It was appraising, but held no hostility.

"So you're the crow who flew back."

Benjen's tone was calm, as though stating a fact.

"When I returned to the Wall, the men of the Night's Watch all said you were a deserter."

Lynn offered no defense.

He merely met Benjen's eyes in silence.

Benjen's gaze moved from Lynn's face to his hand on the sword hilt, then finally to the packed snow beneath his feet.

Countless footprints marked the ground, left by his repeated drills.

The faintest smile curved Benjen's lips.

"A deserter wouldn't practice his swordsmanship like that."

"I heard about the bandits, too."

"You did well."

Benjen moved a few steps closer, bringing a rush of cold with him.

It was the chill of a man who had spent years at the Wall, with ice and snow soaked into his very bones.

"I've seen you fight Wildlings with my own eyes. I know you're no coward."

"And on my latest scouting mission, I saw White Walkers, too."

Benjen gave his verdict.

"I'll clear things up with my brother."

"The Night's Watch needs warriors like you, not a corpse hanging from a gallows."

Lynn's heart gave a sudden thump.

Warmth spread from his chest through every limb.

A promise from the First Ranger.

It carried more weight than any defense he could offer.

It meant the blade called "deserter" hanging over his head had finally been removed.

"Thank you, my lord."

Lynn bowed slightly, his voice carrying a relief he did not even notice himself.

"Two months apart, and you've learned quite a few manners."

Benjen waved a hand, telling Lynn there was no need for ceremony.

His gaze returned to Jon.

"You've grown."

A smile appeared on Benjen's face.

"I rode through the night to get back so you wouldn't have to face that tiresome Lannister feast alone."

"You know my brother Ned. Whenever he attends one of these dull feasts, he's like a bear trapped in a cage."

"Aren't you going inside for supper?"

Jon smiled bitterly.

"Lady Stark thinks having a bastard sit at the same table as royalty would insult them."

Benjen nodded in understanding.

No one understood Jon Snow's situation better than he did.

He cared deeply about Jon.

"Well, we have none of those tiresome restrictions at the Wall."

"A bastard can take a seat whenever he likes."

Jon stood straight.

He looked at his uncle, his gray eyes burning brighter than ever.

"Then take me with you when you leave!"

"If you speak to my father, he'll agree!"

"I want to join the Night's Watch."

"At the Wall, birth doesn't matter."

"I have no surname, only brothers."

Benjen's expression did not change.

He simply looked at his nephew, at the face flushed with excitement.

"You have no idea what you're saying."

Benjen spoke.

"We have no families."

"Once you take the black, you can never marry or have children."

"Do you think this is some game of heroes?"

"We face Wildlings, endless winter, and things more terrible than death."

Unlike the last time he had asked Lynn, Jon's eyes now held an unprecedented resolve.

"I don't care."

"I'm ready to swear my oath and join the Night's Watch."

Lynn understood that Catelyn's actions today had hurt Jon deeply.

"You're still only a boy."

Benjen's tone softened a little.

"Once you understand what that means, you'll most likely regret it."

"Stay in Winterfell, Jon."

"When you're older, when you truly understand what you're giving up, come and say those words to me again."

With that, Benjen stopped looking at him.

He patted Lynn on the shoulder.

"I'm heading inside, lad. Remember to come find me in a bit."

Then Benjen turned and disappeared into the deep darkness once more.

Only Jon and Lynn remained in the courtyard.

Along with the ceaseless sound of the wind.

Jon stood rooted to the spot.

A long while passed.

Only then did he lift his head and look at Lynn, his voice hoarse.

"Uncle Benjen was telling the truth, wasn't he?"

"Am I... too naive?"

Lynn looked at him.

He looked at the future Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, at the vulnerability on his face that seemed at odds with his age.

Lynn did not comfort him.

He merely said calmly,

"You choose your own road, Jon."

"No one can walk it for you."