Time for Goodbyes

Jon hurried out of his father's chambers. He had already packed those few possessions which were truly his to go to the Wall, so he didn't have much to do. As a squire, he would soon be responsible for ensuring the safety not only of his own things, but also those of Ser Jaime. He thought about the Kingslayer. A knight of mixed reputation if ever there was one.

Jon was old enough to know that there were good knights and vile knights - the Ser Barristons and Ser Gregors of the world. He wasn't sure exactly where Ser Jaime fit, but, he supposed, he would soon find out. Measuring Ser Jaime's character was the raison d'être of his mission, after all. Jon thought about that expression - "raison d'être". How strange it sounded - must be some descendant of High Valyrian.

Of course, Ser Jaime couldn't possibly know about the arrangement, nor have agreed to it yet, and so Jon Snow made his way to say goodbye to the family members he would be leaving. He knew that Rickon would not likely remember him, but he picked him up in his rooms and told him he loved him anyways, tussling his hair.

Rickon growled, as did Shaggydog, and wriggled in Jon's hug, scuttling out of his arms like a beetle.

"You at least will be a great warrior one day, Rickon. Not like those knights in the South, though. You're more a direwolf than any of us." Jon smiled, releasing his youngest sibling from the hug, and Rickon ran off with Shaggydog.

It was time to visit Bran.