[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 292 AC, Few days after.

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The days were passing in Winterfell, and Catelyn Stark felt increasingly worried about the prolonged presence of the bastard in the castle. A week had passed since his arrival, and Jon was demonstrating a talent and confidence that deeply disturbed the matriarch of House Stark, a contrast to what the boy was after he disappeared years ago. She watched the bastard walk through the castle with a posture that almost insinuated that he belonged there, something that left her restless and filled with hatred; her husband’s fruit of betrayal seemed to walk through Winterfell as if the castle belonged to him, and the worst part was that the boy was some kind of wizard, making Catelyn still fear that aberration.

The servants told of attacks with animals as soon as they tried to enter her room, and she saw some crows staring directly at her. When she saw something like this, she ran to the sept to beg for the evil being to disappear from there, that he was a threat to everyone in her family. Robb, her son, was also disturbed. He sought Catelyn, confused about how to deal with Jon’s presence, which seemed to eclipse his own importance as the heir of Winterfell.

Catelyn, in her fear and discontent, fueled Robb’s insecurities, suggesting that Jon was there to make him look weak and inferior. Deep down, Catelyn feared that Jon’s presence could diminish Robb’s status, especially now that the Manderlys were about to visit Winterfell. She feared that Jon’s glory and deeds might overshadow her son’s position. She told Robb to be strong, not to show inferiority or weaknesses to the bastard, as that was exactly what he was doing there; he should show that a true son was better than a son of a war whore.

Jon, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to these concerns. After two years living in Arctica, his priorities and concerns had changed significantly over the past years. Before, he cared about Robb’s opinion, but now, he no longer sought contact or approval or friendship from his brother, realizing that the hostility did not come from him, but from others with idiotic jealousy. He had seen many brothers and relatives betraying each other for various reasons, and the most idiotic by green visions and knew a little about how it worked. Besides, there was the case of theft that Robb never apologized for, so Jon would never again care about Robb’s opinion of him. Jon was more focused on spending time with Arya and Bran, the only members of the Stark family with whom he still wished to maintain a close relationship.

That morning, Lord Eddard Stark was sharpening his sword in the most sacred place of Winterfell, a man who always had profound respect and reverence for the old gods. While he was sharpening the sword, Jon approached.

“Did you call me, father?” Jon spoke as he approached, only with his Valyrian steel sword at his waist that he took from Ghost.

“Yes, son. Sit beside me,” Lord Stark requested, and Jon nodded, approaching.

Sitting beside his son under the shadow of the heart tree, Ned was silent before saying anything.

“Jon, this grove has always been a place of reflection and connection with the old gods for our family,” said Ned, looking at the heart tree with its red leaves and carved face. “I have always felt a peace here, a connection with our ancestors. It

is a reminder of the weight and honor of being a Stark.”

Jon listened attentively, absorbing the tree after his father’s words. “I’ve always felt something special here too, it was the best place for me to be and the one where I spent the most time after the library.” Jon admitted, remembering his life in the castle more than 3 years ago.

“Even beyond the Wall, in Arctica, I tried to recreate that feeling. We built a sacred grove around the largest weirwood tree I found, as a symbol of our connection with the North and the old gods. Did you know that we have the largest weirwood tree in the world in Arctica, of all places, it’s there that there is a greater connection with the divine beings of the world.” Jon spoke proudly.

Ned looked at Jon, nodding, believing Jon’s words, however absurd they might be. “It’s important to maintain these traditions, Jon. They remind us of who we are and where we came from. You are a true Northerner, much better than I could ever be.”

“I don’t know about that, father. But one thing I am sure of, despite Arctica being my home now, Winterfell and this sacred grove will always be a part of me. It was my refuge when I needed it most. They are the foundation of everything I am,” Jon said with an expression of respect and nostalgia.

Eddard nodded, feeling a mix of pride and sadness. He knew that Jon had found his own path, one that diverged from the traditional role of the Starks in Winterfell, but still deeply rooted in the traditions and values of the North, perhaps greater than them and that beyond the Wall.

In the comfortable silence that followed, father and son shared a moment of mutual understanding while looking at the tree and Ned kept Ice unsheathed in his lap without cleaning it.

“Jon, tell me more about Arctica. What’s it like to govern a kingdom beyond the Wall?” Ned asked, genuinely interested in his son’s life, as his son always gave superficial information and avoided important details, focusing on trivial things.

Jon smiled, detailing a bit more about Arctica. “Arctica is a place unlike anything you’ve seen. It’s like a different world amidst all the ice of the north and its dangers. Governing there requires a balance between strength and understanding. I’ve been working to unify the various peoples – wildlings, giants, and other races under laws so that everyone can live in harmony and coexist until the end of the era. It’s a constant challenge, but rewarding.”

Ned nodded, impressed. “It sounds unbelievable, but it seems you have found your purpose, Jon. I’m proud of you.”

Finally, the conversation turned to the family. “And your siblings, Jon? How has it been for you to reunite with them?”

Jon sighed. “It’s a mix of joy and tension, father. Arya and Bran are incredible, as always. But with Robb and Sansa, things are more complicated. There’s a distance that I don’t believe we can bridge.”

“I understand. I’ve tried talking to them these past few days, but it’s been difficult,” Ned admitted. He demanded that his brother was in the castle and he should have a talk with them, but they openly disrespected Jon, making Ned say that if they offend Jon as they did in front of him in public, they will be severely punished, it was the only thing Ned could do.

Jon didn’t want to talk about it anymore, as he no longer cared about

the opinions of his siblings, and turned his attention to the Valyrian steel sword in his father’s lap. With a defiant glimmer in his eyes, he said, “Father, how about a Valyrian steel sword fight? I think it would be good practice for both of us.”

Ned looked at Jon, a bit cautious. “Jon, you are still a child. I’m not sure if it would be appropriate.”

Jon smiled confidently. “Father, you’ve seen my training in the yard. I can fight adults without problems. It will be a friendly fight, just to practice our skills.”

Ned pondered for a moment, recalling Jon’s skill in the training yard, facing and defeating older opponents with ease. He knew that Jon was no longer the boy who had left Winterfell years ago; he had grown and become a formidable warrior at just 11 years old.

“Alright, Jon. I accept your challenge,” agreed Ned, with a smile. “But let’s keep it friendly, no injuries.”

Jon nodded in agreement. “Of course, father. It will be a great way to see how our swords compare.”

They headed to the middle of the place, the atmosphere in the sacred grove of Winterfell charged with expectation as Ned and Jon positioned themselves for the duel. Jon held Dark Sister, the legendary sword of Visenya Targaryen, while Ned wielded Ice, the great sword of House Stark, both made of Valyrian steel. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the ancient trees, creating a mystical setting for the fight.

They began cautiously, sizing each other up with concentrated looks. Jon was the first to strike, his youth and agility evident in his agile first move. Ned defended with the metallic sound and counterattacked, but held back his strength with the heavy sword he held with both hands.

The swords began to dance with Ned observing Jon’s preparation in the fight. He spun and attacked with impressive speed, each strike a test for Ned’s defense. Ned, experienced and calculating, responded with strong and precise blows. The great sword Ice cut through the air with an intimidating force, but Jon skillfully dodged, using his speed to evade his father’s powerful attacks. The sound of the magical metals clashing echoed through the grove, creating a melody of steel and skill.

As the fight progressed, it was clear that both combatants were equally committed to demonstrating their basic skills, but without the intention of harming each other. They exchanged strikes, blocks, and dodges with impressive fluidity.

Eventually, the fight came to a stalemate, with both stopping to catch their breath. They looked at each other, father and son, smiles of mutual respect on their faces. Jon and Ned lowered their swords as a sign of truce.

“That was a great fight. You never cease to amaze me, making me wonder if you are really only 11 years old,” Ned admitted, he had gone easy, but Jon still showed strength and speed like an adult man.

“Thank you, it was a great fight. I’ve never fought anyone using a Valyrian steel sword before, it’s comforting,” Jon admitted. Ned looked at his son while sheathing his enormous sword and nodded with pride.

“Jon, you’ve become a child far beyond me. I’m sure your mother would be as proud of you,” Ned spoke, but immediately went blank, realizing he had said too much.

Jon fell silent and simply turned with his sword at his waist and went towards the exit, but he did not refrain from commenting. “It doesn’t matter, she’s already dead.” He said simply, but there was some anger in his voice. Ned remained silent watching Jon leave, thinking that he had just upset his nephew.

Two days after the fight in the sacred grove, the Manderlys arrived at Winterfell. The Stark family, led by Lord Eddard, prepared to receive them with the traditional hospitality of the North. However, Jon chose to stay in the Wolfwoods with Ghost at that time, as the fish was doing everything to keep him away, and realizing that his presence at the formal reception was not necessary and might even be inappropriate, he decided to leave the castle to spend time with his wolf.

In the tranquility of the forest, Jon and Ghost walked together, the giant wolf moving silently by his side. Jon contemplated the nature around him, feeling at peace away from the political complications and family tensions. Later that day, after spending time with Ghost, Jon returned to Winterfell. Upon entering the castle, he found Arya in one of the corridors, having managed to escape her lesson with the commotion caused by the arrival of the Manderlys.

Arya, with her usual enthusiasm upon seeing Jon, ran

towards him. “Jon, you’re back!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with joy. “Where were you? You missed the arrival of the Manderlys.”

Jon smiled at his younger sister, understanding her interest in the formalities and events of the castle. “I was with Ghost in the forest, Arya,” he explained.

“Are you free? Let’s practice archery!” She exclaimed excitedly, and Jon nodded.

They moved away from the main hustle and bustle of the castle, finding a quiet corner where they could practice.

The conversation and archery practice with Arya flowed naturally. Arya, despite being far from ideal as she tried to hit the target, was showing excellent progress for her young age.

“Jon! I can never hit it!” She exclaimed, dissatisfied.

“You’re getting close, Arya. But don’t worry, you’ll get good. You’re better than I, Robb, or Theon were at your age,” Jon tried to encourage.

“Really?” She exclaimed in surprise, as Jon was her biggest idol, and knowing that she was better than him at something at her age was quite a surprise for the child.

“Yes, little wolf, if you continue like this. There will be no archers in the Seven Kingdoms who will surpass you,” Jon ruffled her hair.

Arya tried to fix her hair that Jon had messed up and asked, “And in Arctica?”

“Then I would say no, since the greatest archers in the world will be there,” Jon said with a wink.

“Then I’ll go there!” She stated as if it were the most obvious thing, but Jon was going to deny it.

“I don’t think your mother would like that,” he said.

Arya was about to respond, but she was interrupted by a new voice approaching. “Excuse me!” Jon and Arya turned towards the sound and saw girls approaching. Jon recognized three of them, but the other two were a mystery, especially since they looked at him with such curiosity.

These two girls quickly approached, accompanied by Sansa and other girls right behind. The Manderly sisters, known for their curiosity and interest in stories, were visibly excited to finally see Jon Snow.

Jon noticed that besides being sisters, they were noble with their dresses and rich. The older girl of the sisters took the lead, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. “You are Jon Snow, aren’t you?” she asked, barely hiding her curiosity. “We’ve heard so many stories about you!”

Following her sister’s example, the other added with a shy smile: “It’s an honor to finally meet the famous Jon Snow. We were surprised to know that you were here in Winterfell, your eyes, they are so beautiful!” She exclaimed and blushed.

Jon, somewhat surprised by the direct approach of the Manderly sisters, responded with a polite smile. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, you would be…” He asked.

“I am Manderly, Wynafryd and this is my sister, Wylla Manderly,” They were if not the daughters of the Manderly family, Wynafryd and Wylla Manderly.

“It’s a pleasure m’ladies,” Jon greeted politely, he might be a king, but he is not in his land and must be respectful to those he has nothing against.

Sansa, who accompanied the sisters, seemed a bit embarrassed, didn’t say anything with the girls approaching, but looked at Arya with disapproval.

“Arya Stark! Put down that bow, a lady shouldn’t hold a weapon!” She said in an annoying voice.

“Shut up, Sansa. You have nothing to do with this,” Arya showed her fangs.

“Hm? What’s wrong with her using a bow, I also shoot in White Harbor,” Wynafryd said, confused by Sansa’s reaction.

“I… but you’re a lady!” Sansa, a little flustered, spoke.

“What’s wrong with that, I like to shoot with a bow besides doing embroidery, I can be a lady, but I’m from the North too!” She said, and her sister agreed at her side. “It’s true, I also join my sister,” She said, but looked at Jon shyly and with a blush.

“I…” Sansa didn’t know what to say, but surprisingly it was Arya who saved her from this.

“Really?! You shoot with a bow?!” Arya shouted excitedly to the sisters, since a woman using the bow besides her was a novelty.

“Yes. I like to spend time hitting targets,” The older one spoke proudly.

“When I grow up, I want to be a great archer, I will be the best in Arctica!” Arya shouted excitedly as always.

“Arctica?” The older one spoke again and looked at Jon with interest. “It seems that this is the place everyone is talking about in the castle. Why don’t you tell me about this place beyond the Wall that an 11-year-old boy is building?” She asked, and Jon sighed, seeing that he should talk a little with the girls.

The curiosity and enthusiasm of the Manderly sisters to meet Jon Snow were palpable. They asked a series of questions, some even invasive, leaving Sansa and the other girls visibly uncomfortable with the attention focused on Jon and Arya.

As Sansa and her friends walked away after the embarrassment, Jon sat with Arya and the two sisters, chatting about trivial things. He limited himself to sharing more than he had done with everyone except his father, with whom he had opened up more.

Wynafryd, with her more assertive manner, inquired about the details of Jon’s battles beyond the Wall. “What’s it like to fight against the wildlings? Are they as fierce as the stories say?” she asked, her eyes shining with a mix of fear and fascination.

Jon responded to the sisters as in a normal conversation. He was no longer the frightened boy who would be ashamed to speak with two noble-blooded young women, as he had practically seen many queens and learned how the high nobility behaved in his training.

“Fighting against them… well, they are called the Free Folk among us north of the Wall, and it’s always a challenge. They are fierce, yes, but also brave and skilled in the cold lands. Many of them fight to survive, so I can’t judge them all. I managed to make friends with many of them, as most are not like the invaders we know from this side of the Wall.”

Wylla, in turn, showed interest in the cultural aspects. “I heard about you having giants! Do they really exist? How do they live?” She asked, clearly fascinated by the idea of mythical creatures being real.

Jon: “Yes, giants exist beyond the Wall, and I’ve met some here as you’ve heard. They are incredible beings, majestic and powerful. Their culture is different from ours; they have a deep respect for nature and live in a way that is much more integrated with the environment than we do. They are beings of few words, but they know how to live among us easily and are peaceful. There are many of them in Arctica.”

Arya quickly joined their conversation, with her excitement and expressing how she wanted to go to Arctica, which rendered some laughs from the Manderly sisters. The conversation continued, and Jon was surprised by the noble-blooded girls being so kind to him, so he let himself be carried away by the conversation, building his first friendships with noble blood outside his own family.

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