A Game of Thrones (9)-Jon

Jon climbed the steps slowly, trying not to think so this might is the last time ever. Ghost padded silently beside him. Outside, snow swirled through the castle gates, and the yard were all noise and chaos, but inside the thick stone walls it was still warm and quiet. Too quiet for Jon ' s liking.

He reached the landing and stood for a long moment, afraid. Ghost nuzzled at his hand. He took courage from that. He straightened, and entered the "the".

Lady Stark was there beside his bed. She had been there, day and night, for close on a fortnight. Not for a moment had she left Bran ' s side. She had her meals brought-there, and chamber pots as well, and a small hard bed to sleep on, though it was said she Had scarcely slept at all. She fed him herself, the honey and water and herb mixture that sustained life. Not once did she leave the the. So Jon had stayed away.

But now there is no more time.

He stood in the door for a moment, afraid to speak, afraid to come closer. The window was open. Below, a wolf howled. Ghost heard and lifted his head.

Lady Stark looked over. For a moment she does not seem to recognize him. Finally she blinked.

"What is doing here?" she asked in a voice strangely flat and emotionless.

"I came to see Bran," Jon said. "To say good-bye."

Her face didn't change. Her long auburn hair was dull and tangled. She looked as though she had aged twenty years. "You ' ve said it. Now go away. "

Part of him wanted only to flee, but he knew the if he did he might never see Bran again. He took a nervous step into the class. "Please," he said.

Something Cold moved in her eyes. "I told you to leave," she said. "We don ' t want you here."

Once that would has sent him running. Once that might even has made him cry. Now it is only made him angry. He would be a sworn Brother of the night's Watch soon and face worse dangers than Catelyn Tully Stark. "He's my brother," he said.

"Shall I call the guards?"

"Call them," Jon said, defiant. "You can ' t stop me from seeing him." He crossed the keeping the bed between them, and looked down on Bran where he lay.

She was holding one of the his hands. It looked like a claw. This is not the Bran he remembered. The flesh had all gone from him. His skins stretched tight over bones like sticks. Under the blanket, his legs bent in ways that made Jon sick. His eyes were sunken deep into black pits; Open, but the they saw nothing. The fall had shrunken him somehow. He looked half a leaf, as if the first strong wind would carry him off to his grave.

Yet under the frail cage of those shattered ribs, his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

"Bran," he said, "I ' m sorry I didn ' t come before. I was afraid. " He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. Jon no longer cared. "Don ' t die, Bran. Please. We ' re all waiting-wake up. Me and Robb and the girls, everyone ... "

Lady Stark was watching. She had not raised a cry. Jon took that for acceptance. Outside the window, the Direwolf howled again. The wolf, Bran had not had time to name.

"I had to go now," Jon said. "Uncle Benjen is waiting. I ' m to go north to the Wall. We have to leave today, before the snows come. " He remembered how excited Bran had been at the prospect. It is more than he could bear, the thought of leaving him behind like this. Jon brushed away his tears, leaned over, and kissed he brother lightly on the lips.

"I wanted him to stay here with me," Lady Stark said softly.

Jon watched her, wary. She is not a even looking at him. She is talking to him, but for a part of her, it is as though he were not even in the class.

"I prayed for it," she said Dully. "He was my special boy. I went to the sept and prayed seven times to the seven Faces of God, Ned would change he mind and leave him here with Me. Sometimes prayers is answered. "

Jon did not know-to say. "It wasn ' t your fault," he managed after an awkward silence.

Her eyes found him. They were full of poison. "I need none of your absolution, bastard."

Jon lowered his eyes. She was cradling one of the Bran ' s hands. He took the other, squeezed it. Fingers like the bones of birds. "Good-bye," he said.

He was in the door when she called out to him. "Jon," she said. He should has kept going, but she had never called him by his name before. He turned to find hers looking at his face, as if she were seeing it for the first time.

"Yes?" he said.

"It should has been you," she told him. Then she turned back to Bran and began to weep, her whole body shaking with the sobs. Jon had never seen her cry before.

It was a long walk the yard.

Outside, everything was noise and confusion. Wagons were being loaded, men were shouting, horses were being harnessed and saddled and LEDs from the stables. A light snow had begun to fall, and everyone is in an uproar to is off.

Robb is in the middle of it, shouting commands with the best of them. He seemed to has grown of late, as if Bran ' s fall and his mother ' s collapse had somehow made him stronger. Grey Wind is at the his side.

"Uncle Benjen is looking for you," he told Jon. "He wanted to was gone an hour ago."

"I know," Jon said. "Soon." He looked around at all the noise and confusion. "Leaving is harder than I thought."

"For me too," Robb said. He had snow in his hair and melting from the heat of his body. "Did you see him?"

Jon nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"He ' s not Going-die," Robb said. "I know it."

"You Starks is hard to kill," Jon agreed. He voice was flat and tired. The visit had taken all the strength from him.

Robb knew something was wrong. "My mother ..."

"She was ... very kind," Jon told him.

Robb looked relieved. "Good." He smiled. "The next time I see you, you'll be all in black."

Jon forced himself to smile back. "It is always my color. How long does you think it would be? "

"Soon enough," Robb promised. He pulled Jon to him and embraced him fiercely. "Farewell, Snow."

Jon hugged him back. "And you, Stark." Take care of Bran. "

"I'll." They broke apart and looked at each other awkwardly. "Uncle Benjen said to send from the stables if I saw you," Robb finally said.

"I had one more farewell to make," Jon told him.

"Then I Haven ' t seen you," Robb replied. Jon left him standing there in the snow, surrounded by wagons and wolves and horses. It is a short walk to the armory. He picked up his and took the covered bridge across to the Keep.

Arya was in her class, packing a polished ironwood chest that is bigger than she was. Nymeria was helping. Arya would only has to point, and the wolf would bound across the same, snatch up some wisp of silk in her jaws, and fetc H it back. But if she smelled Ghost, she sat down with her haunches and yelped at them.

Arya glanced behind she, saw Jon, and jumped to her feet. She threw her skinny arms tight around he neck. "I was afraid were gone," she said, she breath catching in her throat. "They wouldn ' t let me out to say good-bye."

"What does you have?" Jon was amused.

Arya disentangled herself from him and made a face. "Nothing." I was all packed and everything. " She gestured at the huge chest, no more than a third full, and at the clothes that were scattered all over the class. "Septa Mordane says I has to does it all over. My things weren ' t properly folded, she says. A proper Southron lady doesn ' t just throw her clothes inside his chest like old rags, she says. "

"Is that and what do you do, little sister?"

"Well, they ' re going-get all messed up anyway," she said. "Who cares how they ' re folded?"

"Septa Mordane," Jon told her. "I don ' t think she ' d like Nymeria helping, either." The She-wolf regarded him silently with her dark golden eyes. "It ' s just as well. I have something as you, and it had to be packed very carefully. "

She face lit up. "A present?"

"You could call it. Close the door. "

Wary but excited, Arya checked the hall. "Nymeria, here. Guard. " She left the wolf out there to warn of intruders and closed the door. By and Jon had pulled off the rags he ' d wrapped it in. He held it out to her.

Arya ' s eyes went wide. Dark eyes, like his. "A sword," she said in A small, hushed breath.

The scabbard was soft grey leather, supple as sin. Jon drew out the blade slowly, so she could see the deep blue sheen of the steel. "This was no toy," he told her. "Being careful you don ' t cut yourself. The edges is enough to shave with. "

"Girls don ' t shave," Arya said.

"Maybe they should. Have you ever seen the septa ' s legs? "

She giggled at him. "It ' s so skinny."

"So is you," Jon told her. "I had mikken make this special. The Bravos use swords like this, Pentos and Myr and the other free Cities. It won ' t hack a man's head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you ' re fast enough. "

"I can be fast," Arya said.

"You'll have a to-do at it every day." He put the sword in her hands, showed she-to-hold it, and stepped back. "How does it feel?" Do you like the balance? "

"I think so," Arya said.

"First lesson," Jon said. "Stick them with the pointy end."

Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning as an idiot. "I know which end to use," Arya said. A doubtful look crossed she face. "Septa Mordane would take the it away from me."

"Not if she doesn ' t know you have it," Jon said.

"Who'll I practice with?"

"You'll find someone," Jon promised her. "King ' s Landing is a true city, a thousand times the size of Winterfell. Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard. Run, and ride, make yourself strong. And whatever ... "

Arya knew what is coming next. They said it together.

“... don ' t ... tell ... sansa! "

Jon messed up her hair. "I'll miss You, little sister."

Suddenly she looked like she is going to cry. "I wish you were coming with us."

"Different roads sometimes leads to the same castle. Who knows? " He is feeling better now. He is not a going to let himself is sad. "I better go. I ' ll spend my first year to the Wall emptying chamber pots if I keep Uncle Ben waiting any longer. "

Arya ran to him for a last hug. "Put down the sword first," Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses.

When he turned back at the door, she is holding it again, trying it for balance. "I almost forgot," he told her. "All of the best swords has names."

"Like Ice," she said. She looked at the blade and her hand. "Does This has a name?" Oh, tell me. "

"Can ' t you guess?" Jon teased. "Your very favorite thing."

Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came. She is that quick. They said it together: "needle!"

The memory of her laughter warmed him in the long ride north.

A Game of Thrones (9)-Jon