Jon trudged through the mud, nodding to some of the household as he did so. Ghost was silent at his side, moving as quietly as the wind. Father had summoned him to his solar, and Jon felt a tinge of nerves. Was he in trouble? Had father found out about the prank that he and Theon had played on the Crown Prince?
If he had, then Jon had a ready-made reason. Sansa might not have known that he and Theon had seen her crying after her time with the Crown Prince, but they had. That Sansa had buried her head into Lady's fur made Jon think it must have been bad whatever it was that had prompted her to cry. And so, they'd designed a prank and it had come off quite well. The Crown Prince would be sporting a bloody lip for a day or two until it healed.
Of course, that raised the question of how father had come to know. Not even Robb knew, and Jon usually told Robb everything. The reason for not telling him this time was that Robb was betrothed to the Crown Prince's sister, and it did not seem fair to get him involved in this mess. Especially as Robb seemed to get on very well with the Princess.
Jon was sort of jealous of Robb, it was clear he and the Princess would make a good match, and that as time grew, Robb would have little need for him. A part of Jon wanted that. He wanted something like what he imagined Robb and the Princess had. He wanted someone to laugh with and to love. But he was a bastard, and as Lady Catelyn had made clear many times over the years, that was not in his fate.
Better for him to head north to the Wall with Uncle Benjen when all this was done. Better for him to distance himself from his family.
He walked inside and down the hallway, noting the guards spaced out across the walls. Some bore the Stark colours; others bore Lannister colours. That still surprised him. The Lannisters seemed to dominate everything. It was a little disconcerting. Surely the Baratheon King should have Baratheon guards?
But then, there was much about the King that didn't seem to make sense. Jon had grown up hearing his father's stories about King Robert. And in them, King Robert had always appeared to be some sort of God. Towering above everyone else. In reality he was a fat man with a big beard.
The first sense Jon got that something was up when he got to the doors of his father's solar and saw two Kingsguard standing outside. One was the Kingslayer-a man who looked like a King- and Ser Meryn Trant who looked as though he'd been drinking. Jon nodded to both of them and knocked on his father's door.
"Enter." Came the response. Jon turned the knob and entered, he exhaled when he entered and found the King standing next to father.
"Your Grace." Jon said bowing low. Why was the King here? Had he come to reprimand Jon for what had happened to the Crown Prince?
"Jon, thank you for coming." Father said. "His Grace has something he wishes to discuss with you."
Jon looked between his father and the King, his fear growing. Was the King about to tear him a new one thanks to the Crown Prince's bloody lip? He considered speaking but remained silent.
The King spoke, his voice gruff. "I've been keeping an eye on you, Jon Snow. I saw you in the sparring yard the day we arrived. You are a good swordsman. A bit rough around the edges, but good. Certainly, better than most southerners."
Jon blushed, that was the first time someone had complimented him on his sword work. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Tell me, boy, when you were younger who did you pretend to be?" The King asked.
Jon hesitated, what was the King implying?
As if he sensed Jon's hesitancy, the King added. "Every boy when he is first in the sparring yard pretends to be one of the greatest swordsmen to ever live. So, tell me, which ones did you pretend to be?"
Somewhat reassured, Jon answered. "Aemon the Dragonknight and Ser Arthur Dayne, Your Grace."
The King snorted. "Of course." There was a pause and then the man asked. "What do you want to be in the future, Jon?"
"Sire?" Jon asked confused.
"What is it you wish to be? Your father tells me you wish to freeze your cock off at the Wall." The King said.
"The Night's Watch is an honourable calling." Jon said, reciting the words he'd heard so often.
The King snorted. "Fuck that, the Night's Watch is a place where we send criminals and those with no hope for doing anything. Or those like your uncle who feel guilt for something or the other."
Jon frowned, what did Uncle Benjen have to feel guilty about?
Before he could ask what, the King meant, the man continued. "We do not think you should share their fate. Instead, we have an offer for you."
"Sire?" Jon asked intrigued.
"You are a good swordsman, but you could do with some improvement. You won't get that here. Instead, we would take you south with us, where you can learn to fight, being taught by two of the greatest knights this world has ever seen in Ser Barristan the Bold and Ser Jaime Lannister." The King said. "How would that sound to you?"
Jon felt his heart flutter, was this a joke or a serious offer? He glanced at his father but his father's face was expressionless. He looked back at the King and saw the King looking at him intently.
The chance to become the best swordsman he could be, the chance to be better than anyone else? The chance for glory, it hungered inside of him. The chance to prove Lady Catelyn wrong was what made him answer.
"It would be my honour, Sire."
The King smiled. "Good, then you will come south as my squire."
Jon bowed. "Thank you, Your Grace."
The King nodded and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Jon turned and left the room, he looked at the Kingslayer and imagined himself beating the man in a sword fight, and he smiled. He knew what he wanted to be now. He had his purpose.