Much Farther To Go {Jojen Reed}

The Bastard Pup

Jon POV

Me and Theon stay rooted in our places at the end of the bridge because before us is a grotesque scene: a stag gutted and spattered across the ground. Its guts spilling out, something massive must have doomed this beast. Father dismounts his horse, I can hear him behind us, approaching. I ask, "what is it?" Then Theon, "mountain lion?"

Father answers eerily with, "no mountain lions in these woods," before he seems to hear something and moves slowly off the path. Following him I am quietly relieved to be walking away from the maggot-ridden corpse. So much death today, first the beheading where young Bran had to experience his first right of passage as a lord's son, now this slaughter in the clearing. As  I follow our father, the second youngest Stark pup beside me, I begin to hear just that, the gentle crying of puppies, and alas, more death, but life as well.

"It's a freak!" Theon exclaims, but I know what this is, we all do.

"It's a direwolf. Tough old beast," father says, extracting the antler of the stag from the belly of the beast.

"There are no direwolves south of The Wall," says Robb, though we all see one before us, "now there are six," I say in return, turning to Bran, "do you want to hold it?" the young Stark wraps it in his cloak, immediately taken.

"Where will they go?" he asks.

"They don't belong down here," Cassel returns. I know at once where this is headed and feel the rare stubbornness in me rear its head. Bran has seen enough for one day I think, and so have I. So when father sentences them to die and Theon attempts to pry the puppy from our brother's hands I say, "Lord Stark? There are six pups, one for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them."

There is only a small hesitation before Ned Stark says, "you will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves, and if they die, you will bury them yourselves." A small victory, I contain a smile as we begin to clear out, all of us carrying a pup or two. I lift a silver pup who had been pawing at my feet softly and look into its eyes. It licks my cheek while I am taken aback by the contrast of two different colored eyes. She is beautiful and it makes my stomach drop because I know at once who this wolf is meant for: the girl who was part Stark, and part something else entirely. I tuck the puppy against my breast, thinking that perhaps this is the last way I could ever touch the heart of Faylin Stark when Bran looks up at me with gentle eyes and pity on his face, "What about you?" he asks.

"I'm not a Stark, get on." But then I hear it, the muted yupping from a nearby tree trunk, "what is it?" asks the eldest Stark, his own full bodied pup at his heels already. I lift out just one more stray pup: an albino.

"Ah! The runt of the litter! That one's yours, Snow." And so he was.

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The next few days and the stay of the Baratheons grew tiring quite quickly and made me feel grateful Fay was no longer around to be promised off to any of them. I sensed nothing but dread ahead for young Sansa and wished I was someone who could speak against the match. Against any of it, from father becoming the hand, to taking the girls, to any and all of us separating now in a way that felt unnatural and sinister. Bran falling was both a tragedy and a warning, bad things were coming for the Starks, wherever any of us ended up.

As I lay in my own bed for the last night ever I thought about a great many thing. First that I would be grateful for the company of Tyrion Lannister on my journey farther north than I'd ever been. Our short conversations during his stay at Winterfell had been more honest than many I'd had with other noblemen and if I was not to have family beside me, at least a kind acquaintance. Though his stay upon The Wall would be short, it would help during the transition. Then I thought of Bran, and Rickon, and my sisters soon to be in King's Landing, and then of Fay.

Only after the courtyard went dark and I was sure the last drunks were off to bed did I leave my room, Ghost and the nameless pup at my heels. I knew the path by heart, I'd spent many sleepless nights making the trip. After what felt like hours of darkness and following the cold stone walls with just the tips of my fingers I would find her doorway, placing my palms gently upon it. Never entering, for fear of so many things, mostly myself. But tonight I entered, nothing to fear now, there was no body on the other side, sleeping or otherwise. Only the memory of her living in the walls and furniture, all of it dusty and undisturbed.

It made it easier, sitting on the edge of the cold, empty bed, not even the scent of her lingering here anymore. She'd said goodbye to me over a year ago and I should have done the same. After a while the puppies got restless so we left the childhood bedroom of my sister. Tomorrow Ghost and I would say goodbye to all the rest of it. I dare not think of the travels ahead for the nameless pup, traveling south toward the capitol, but first The Neck. Where Joffrey, Cersei and all the nonsense traveling with the caravan would greet, for now, the farthest Stark sibling from home. Not that I planned to ever see any of them again.