Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1:
Jon Snow, Winterfell
It was a cold afternoon within the walls of Winterfell, Jon was absentmindedly walking towards the great hall to eat something, it had been a tiring day after all, Ser Rodrik had been especially sadistic with today's training 5 hours of exercises and 3 practice duels had left his body destroyed, followed by 5 hours of studies with Maester Luwin who did the same with his brain -What a shitty day, isn't it Snow? - exclaimed his brother Robb, who was walking next to him, his blue eyes looked tired, his red curls dirty with sweat and dirt.
Of course I do, but look on the bright side. The day is over, and the cooks told me that today we will eat roasted boar. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Reading that book about why Lord Cynder and Lord Appletree are rivals to the death was torture—Jon replied at the moment that he shuddered at the memory of such reading. How a person could write 30 pages about it was a mystery to him.
"And what awaits us? I understand the importance of knowing the houses of the kingdom, but Gods is so tedious, I wish the lessons were as exciting as the sessions in the training ground!" The red-haired man exclaimed, his face smirking with amusement. Jon half agreed, it was true that there were tedious and insufferable subjects, but there were also exciting themes in the library, the study of battles of the past, the handling of numbers, the care of messenger crows, metallurgy, if Jon was frank with himself, he enjoyed the knowledge very much, of course out of Lady Stark's eyes.
In his opinion, his father's wife had an unhealthy obsession. Practically everything he did was frowned upon in the eyes of her precious seven, false gods of cold stone from the south. The trout has forgotten that she is the lady of Winterfell and that here, the Old Gods are the ones who rule. She is still determined to "enlighten" the people of the fortress. In the woman's mind, I read and prepared myself to usurp my brother.
However, while insufferable, Lady Stark is not the worst thing that came from the south when my father went to avenge the deaths of my grandfather, Lord Rickard, and my uncle Lord Brandon, both unjustly murdered by the mad dog Aerys Targaryen 15 years ago.
"So what do you think, brother?" Robb exclaimed, turning to Jon, who, embarrassingly, realized that he had not heard anything his brother had said to him. Robb looked at him, awaiting an answer. Jon replied, embarrassed, "I'm sorry, brother, I was lost in my thoughts"
The redhead just rolled his eyes and repeated "I ask if you would like to go with me to the brothel after dinner, that I am sure we can get you a girl to relax those muscles and maybe a little more hahaha" repeated the heir of Winterfell amused by his brother reaction Jon rolled his eyes and snorted
"I don't think so brother. I gave my word to Mikken to help him with the forge, he's teaching me how to forge in exchange for strong hands that punish the steel, a good deal in my opinion" Jon replied while shrugging his indifferent shoulders.
Shaking his head, Robb replied
"Jon "steel-hand" Snow you aspire to be a blacksmith in the future brother?, why would rather work with Mikken than spend the night between the sheets of a wench" they had arrived at their destination and were about to enter the great hall
"Not all of us are born with our value given brother, some of us must earn it" Jon replied dryly Perhaps it was not very intelligent to say such comments so openly and much less to his father's heir, however, Jon was not in the mood to play politics
If Robb was offended, he did very well to hide it and replied more tactfully
"Your place is here in Winterfell with me, you are my brother and that will not change," replied the blue-eyed man firmly.
Although moved by his brother, Jon shook his head -I appreciate your words Robb, but we both know that cannot be real and that, sooner or later I will have to seek my own luck- exclaimed the black-haired man solemnly
"Let's forget those issues for the moment, we have a wild boar to devour" and both entered the room, the talk they had forgotten before the promise of such a delicacy. Robb had already forgotten about it thinking that his brother was exaggerating and Jon had put the uncertainty of his future aside for the moment, neither of them suspected that, by the will of the old gods, would be the last night they would see each other in a long time.