The clamor of the feast was shut out by the thick stone walls.
Below the First Keep, there was only the sound of the wind.
The wind whistled through the battlements, stirring up dead leaves and ice on the ground.
Lynn stood in this quiet shadow.
The longsword in his hand reflected streaks of cold light under the clear moonlight.
He didn't practice those broad, sweeping moves.
Only the most basic thrusts, parries, and dodges.
He repeated each movement hundreds of times.
The soreness in his muscles further refined his control over this body.
Sweat trickled down Lynn's forehead, quickly dried by the cold night wind, taking away the last trace of warmth from his skin.
A series of footsteps approached from a distance.
The footsteps were light, carrying a hint of hesitation.
Lynn stopped his movements, but his sword-gripping hand did not relax in the slightest.
He turned around.
Jon Snow stood not far away, also holding a blunted practice sword.
He wasn't wearing formal attire for the feast, just a simple black leather jerkin.
On that handsome face, which did not belong to House Stark, there was a sense of loneliness out of place with the feast.
"I thought I was the only one here."
Jon's voice was a bit low.
Lynn sheathed his sword.
"Me too."
Jon walked over and stood beside Lynn.
He looked at the brightly lit tower in the night, silent for a long time.
"They are all inside."
Jon's tone was flat, devoid of emotion.
"Cheering, drinking, celebrating the King's arrival."
"And I can only stand here."
Lynn said nothing.
He knew that Lady Catelyn would not allow Jon to appear at the high table.
In such a grand occasion, the presence of a bastard was the greatest insult to her.
Jon gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"Sometimes, I really want to leave here."
He raised the blunted sword in his hand and swung it at a dummy.
"Go to a place where no one knows me."
"Go to a place where my surname is no longer Snow."
His gaze fell on Lynn.
There was a hint of inquiry in those eyes.
"Do you think The Wall is truly my only home?"
Before Lynn could answer, another voice emerged from the shadows behind them.
"The Wall is no one's home, child."
The voice was steady, with the characteristic hoarseness of the North.
Lynn's pupils suddenly constricted.
A mounted figure emerged from the darkness.
He wore worn black clothes, lean, with a face etched with the sharp lines of wind and frost.
His eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.
He was Benjen Stark.
Lord Ned's brother, the First Ranger of the Night's Watch.
"Uncle Benjen!"
The despondency on Jon's face vanished, replaced by the joyful surprise of seeing a loved one.
He respected Benjen as much as he respected his own father, Ned.
Benjen nodded at Jon, a greeting.
His gaze, however, passed over Jon and landed directly on Lynn.
That gaze was scrutinizing, but without hostility.
"You are that crow who flew back."
Benjen's tone was calm, as if stating a fact.
"When I returned to The Wall, the Night's Watch all said you were a deserter."
Lynn did not argue.
He just stared back at Benjen silently.
Benjen's gaze moved from Lynn's face to his hand gripping the sword hilt, and finally rested on the compacted Snow beneath his feet.
There, countless footprints were left from repeated practice.
The corner of Benjen's mouth curved into a very subtle arc.
"A deserter wouldn't practice sword fighting like this."
"I also heard about the bandits."
"You did very well."
Benjen took a few steps forward, and the chill from him wafted over.
That was the aura of someone who had spent years on The Wall, with ice and Snow seeped into his bones.
"I've seen you fight wildlings with my own eyes; I know you are no coward."
"And on this reconnaissance trip, I also saw the presence of the Others."
Benjen concluded.
"I will make it clear to my brother."
"The Night's Watch needs warriors like you, not a corpse hanging on a gallows."
Lynn's heart gave a sudden leap.
A warm current spread from his chest to his limbs.
The promise of the First Ranger.
This carried more weight than any defense.
It meant that the sharp sword of "deserter" hanging over his head was finally removed.
"Thank you, my Lord."
Lynn bowed slightly, his voice carrying a relaxation he hadn't even noticed.
"Two months apart, and you've learned a lot of etiquette."
Benjen waved his hand, signaling Lynn not to be so formal.
His gaze returned to Jon.
"You've grown up."
A smile appeared on Benjen's face.
"I rode back overnight precisely so you wouldn't have to face those annoying Lannister feasts alone."
"You know, my brother Ned, every time he attends one of these boring feasts, it's like he's a bear trapped in a cage."
"Aren't you going inside for dinner?"
Jon gave a bitter smile.
"Lady Stark believes that a bastard sharing a table with royalty would be an insult to the royal family."
Benjen nodded understandingly.
No one knew Jon Snow's plight better than him.
He cared deeply for Jon.
"Well, there are no such annoying constraints on The Wall."
"A bastard can take a seat anytime."
Jon stood ramrod straight.
He looked at his uncle, and in his grey eyes, a light burned brighter than ever before.
"Then take me with you when you go back!"
"If you just tell my father, he'll agree!"
"I want to join the Night's Watch."
"On The Wall, birth doesn't matter."
"I have no surname, only brothers."
Benjen's expression did not change.
He just looked at his nephew, at his face flushed with excitement.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
Benjen said.
"We have no families."
"Once you put on the black, you can never marry, never have children."
"Do you think this is some kind of hero's game?"
"We face wildlings, eternal winter, and things more terrifying than death."
Unlike his previous inquiry to Lynn, this time Jon's eyes held an unprecedented resolve.
"I don't care."
"I am ready to swear my vows to the Night's Watch."
Lynn understood that Catelyn's actions today had deeply hurt Jon.
"You're still just a child."
Benjen's tone softened a bit.
"When you understand what this entails, you'll most likely regret it."
"Stay in Winterfell, Jon."
"When you're a bit older, when you truly understand what you're giving up, then come and talk to me about these things."
With that, Benjen no longer looked at him.
He patted Lynn's shoulder.
"Lad, I'm going in now; remember to come find me later."
Then, Benjen turned and re-merged into the deep darkness.
In the courtyard, only Jon and Lynn remained.
And the never-ending sound of the wind.
Jon stood rooted to the spot.
After a long time.
He finally looked up at Lynn, his voice hoarse.
"Uncle Benjen is right, isn't he?"
"Am I... too naive?"
Lynn looked at him.
He looked at the future Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, at the fragility on his face that was unsuited to his age.
Lynn did not comfort him.
He just said calmly.
"The path is your own choice, Jon."
"No one can walk it for you."
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