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Game of Thrones: The Ruler- Chapter 7: Departure
🕑 Added 2025-06-17 18:40:17 +0000 UTCNed Stark was in the solar, rubbing his temples. Trouble never seemed to leave the Lord of Winterfell.
Rodrik Cassel had just informed him of what had transpired in the training yard, and he did not know how to react.
He knew and understood that Jon’s relationship with most people in Winterfell was strained perhaps with the exception of his youngest three children. But even then, he was not sure how long they would remain unaffected by Catelyn’s influence. He hoped that Jon could find some friends but he was complete opposite of Lyanna. He lacked the charm and the personality that Lyanna had.
He had tried to stand up for Jon, to give him what he deserved, but the guilt of wronging Catelyn always pulled him back. He always lost his courage against his wife.
He was not sure whether he should be shocked or afraid at this abrupt change in Jon. He could have never imagined that Jon would have uttered such words.
“Ser Rodrik,” he tried to confirm, “you are saying that Jon put Theon down in two moves?”
“Yes, my lord,” the Master at Arms of Winterfell nodded.
“And you are saying this was no fluke,” Ned asked for a confirmation.
“No, my lord,” Rodrik said, conviction firm in his voice. “Jon was an entirely different person this evening.”
“The way, and the words, he used to insult Theon were no less shocking than the skills he displayed,” he continued.
“My lord, I have wielded swords and trained men all my life. And I am certain this was no fluke. The way Jon moved. The way he handled Theon. It was all skill. Pure skill.”
“Jon had not even bothered to move his sword arm,” he added with a bitter smile. “How he managed to hide all of that for so long, I cannot even fathom.”
“Then why reveal it now?” Ned countered.
Before Rodrik could offer his opinion, a knock came at the door. It was Maester Luwin.
“My lord,” the old Maester greeted Ned.
“Maester Luwin,” Ned nodded. “How is Theon?”
“Nothing too serious,” Luwin answered. “Though his jaw is dislocated, and the Greyjoy boy will have some trouble speaking and eating for the next few weeks. Maybe liquid food and some rest to his mouth would do him better.”
“Do it as you see fit,” Ned nodded, relieved. He did not want anything serious to happen to Theon, who was still a hostage here. It would have been a big blow on the honour of house Stark.
“What do you make of this sudden change in Jon, Maester?” Ned asked.
“Surprising, my lord,” Luwin said. “It is hard to believe that Jon did this. Really hard to believe.”
“What do you think I should say to him? Ask him? Talk to him about?” Ned pressed.
He was out of ideas himself and hoped the old Maester could offer some clarity.
“You have put me in a difficult spot to answer,” the Maester said with a slight smile, but he continued.
“But I do not think we need to dig too deep to understand why Jon has been hiding his skills. If I be blunt, we all know that if he had truly shown what he was capable of, it would not have been appreciated.”
“Maybe he thought that keeping his talents to himself would be the best choice,” he said. “We all know that last time when he had defeated Theon, he had been knocked unconscious by a strike on the back of his head.”
“And yet we never wondered what suddenly happened to that prodigy,” the old Maester lamented with a sigh.
Ned immediately wanted to object to those words. He wanted to argue that he had never forced Jon to hide his talents. But the words caught in his throat. No matter what logic he applied, he knew the Maester was speaking the truth.
“We should be more worried about why Jon suddenly decided to showcase his abilities,” the Maester continued.
“If it was simply because he could no longer bear Theon’s insults and decided to retaliate, then I would not be too concerned. He is a young boy and there is Stark blood in him. Even if he had a lot patience, it was destined to snape at some point of time.”
“One of the punishments for Theon was to not insult Jon but I do not think it was ever implemented after the first few moons,” the Maester continued.
“But if Jon has decided to show his talents for some other reason… I cannot say.”
Ned nodded slowly as he processed the Maester’s words. He had often wondered how the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark could be so mediocre. But, in truth, he had been relieved by it as well.
Jon’s mediocrity meant he would not attract attention. He could live quietly and safely.
While Jon and his actions were being discussed in the solar of the Stark Lord, Jon himself was slipping away. Under the cover of night, he had chosen the least guarded section of Winterfell’s walls.
A long rope lay coiled around his shoulder. His movements were silent and swift. He tied one end of the rope to an iron fixture embedded in the stone wall, then tossed the rest over the edge. Without hesitation, he gripped the rope and slid down in one smooth motion.
Waiting at the base of the wall was a white horse, one Jon had skinchanged into earlier to prepare for his escape.
Quickly, Jon leapt into the saddle, and the horse galloped off without a sound. Jon Snow was on his way, to build his kingdom.
