"I no longer desire to go to the Wall."

Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, foster-brother to and Hand of King Robert, turned to look at his natural son. He had been a good and kind father in spite of the many prejudices which ordinarily would have resulted in an unpleasant (and potentially much shortened) life for Jon Snow, Bastard of Winterfell. Their discrepancy in their titles and reputations was a well-established one. Ned was as famous for his honor as he was for his one mistake - it was the exception that proved the rule.

"You no longer wish to join the Night's Watch? I can't say I'm entirely surprised." Eddard looked up at Jon from his desk, where he was writing letters quickly. "You can certainly change your mind again later. You have a great deal to learn about life before surrendering so much of it. Still, this puts you in a difficult position."

Ned dipped his quill into his inkwell and continued writing for a few seconds before flicking excess ink off, cursing mildly, and beginning again. "Jon," he continued, "I have allowed you to live here in Winterfell against the wishes of my wife. You are of course aware as to why."

Jon nodded. Like everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, Jon knew the story of his origins, a story which displeased his Lord Father's wife.