"𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓'𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑," their father always called it. Could make a man or woman wild in a sense, unpredictable, and powerful. And when a violet-eyed twin born to the Lord Eddard Stark, all knew that the boy would have it. And he did.
Beside his...
꧁~~~Benget Stark~~~꧂ ꧁~~~298 After Conquest~~~꧂ ❄❄❄
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❄❄❄
꧁"A bloody dead man tried to kill me.."
The Lord Commander mutters somewhat grimly, his voice having a slight shiver toit as if it had suddenly become that much colder in the room. The hearth's flames flickered lightly, a fresh log having been thrown on in just ten minutes before. That damn raven that the Old Bear surprisingly hasn't just squashed yet remains quiet in his cage. And Ben sits behind the desk, his eyes looking at the door, seeing how it's fixed with different pieces of wood, a crude fixing that is.
"That door marked every Lord Commander in the history of the Night's Watch."
He says, and the Old Bear nodded, sighing.
"Who would've known that after 8,000 years, the only thing to remember us by is a damn door?"
He remarks, and Ben chuckles, turning around to face the Lord Comamnder once more. He sighs heavily.
"For as long as I can remember, the thing that always came second on my list of things I had to do, was always to be remembered. Aegon, Visenya, Nymeria, Brandon, Selmy, Arthur, Daeron, Jaehaerys, all of those men will be remembered until the end of time. But me? Well, I don't think they'll remember me much.."
Ben mutters, leaning back in his chair as he rests his chin in his hand, his arm resting on the chair's armrest. Mormont only shrugs.
"Glory is against our vows of the Night's Watch."
"It's not about glory."
Ben mutters before going quiet once again for a few moments. He size as he looks out the partially frozen window of the office.
"It's just about being remembered for me. For the things that I've done in the time I've been given."
He says once more before the room returns to silence yet again, the fire still crackling and flickering. The Old Bear reaches to the desk, taking the large cup of black beer, taking a long and deep sip before setting the cup back down. And on his lips is the smallest of smiles, but it was genuine.
"History only remembers one in a thousand of men... But you, Benget Stark, well...you're about one in a million, I imagine. So I guess that means history's going to remember you for quite a while."
Benget chuckles, smiling brightly as the Old Bear nods to him with a sincere smile of his own. The two settle back down as though they were old friends, and maybe they have become friends. In a way, the Old Bear and the Violet Wolf have taught each other a lot in the last few months there upon the Wall.
