Jon Snow
Winterfell
For several hours Jon shaped the ingots in the forge, in the end he had only been able to make the iron ingots. Mikken had run out of coal to forge steel, which was indispensable in the process.
"I will tell Luwin that the coal reserves are empty, it won't be much trouble to buy more from Wintertown during the next few day. Was that steel urgent?" Jon asked
"It wasn't exactly urgent, but it's not something I would like to leave at the last minute either. It doesn't matter now boy, go rest, we can make the steel ones another day and thank you for your help I appreciate it, these hands are not what they to be. Hahaha." Thanked the blacksmith sincerely.
"No problem Mikkel, I understand that you have problems with your advanced age." Jon laughed as he left the forge towards his chambers.
"Disrespectful brat, wait, I have something for you." Mikken grumbled with some affection and amusement. Young Jon reminded him so much of Lord Brandon and Lady Lyanna, wild and fierce, indomitable children of the North to the bone and with devotion to the old gods.
"My hands may be old, but they can still forge lad." He spoke as he approached a trunk in the corner of the workshop, he opened it and took out an object wrapped in a cloth, it was long and thin, about 1 meter long, he took it and turned to Jon, who was paralyzed without being able to believe it.
"Happy birthday boy, an apology that is late, but forging art takes time. Hahaha." Mikkel laughed as he handed Jon said object.
Jon took the sword with trembling hands, a gift, he didn't get many of those, he was a Snow after all, not a Stark. When he took off the cloth he saw it, a good quality steel longsword,with a handle just the right size to used with 1 or 2 hands.
'It has a wolf's head on the pommel.' Jon thought to himself, quite excited, he looked at the blacksmith who was looking at him expectantly.
"It's not Ice, nor is it the most elaborate sword in the world, but, although simple, it serves its purpose, I hope you like it boy and if it saves your arse at least once, it will have fulfilled its function." Mikken spoke with a tone of voice between embarrassed by the simplicity of the sword and hoping that Jon liked it.
"It's perfect Mikken, it's a good sword and it will serve me well, thank you so much." Jon replied with a genuine smile and a lot of emotion
"Perfect, now go boy, it's late and you must rest." Commented the blacksmith as he took him out of the workshop and put out the fire, ready to rest himself.
Jon was walking around the fortress towards the Godswood quite happily. He had a new sword! He had to talk to Ser Rodrik to start getting acquainted with it, Robb was going to be so jealous he could already hear him asking father for his own sword. He knew that Ser Rodrick would get quite serious with their training now that he had a live steel sword, but he didn't care, it was his sword and he would train as much as necessary not to disappoint Mikken and make his father proud.
He was so distracted that, by accident, he collided with a body, lost his balance and both fell to the ground
Jon got up suddenly and began to apologize to the woman he had just collided with and offered to help lift her up.
"Apologies my lady, I was distracted and it was a mistake." Jon quickly apologized while extending his hand to the person on the floor.
"It's okay, it was an accide…"-the woman began to answer sympathetically until the light of the torches illuminated the faces of both of them and she saw that it was the Septa of the trout, Mordane, who had accompanied Lady Catelyn from the Riverlands
The woman's face contorted with fury and she spat out, "What do you plan to do, bastard, you wanted to attack me, right? You wanted to hurt me offspring of sin, I am a servant of the 7 and they protect me from your devilish actions" the woman shouted
Jon, although annoyed, preferred to take the situation calmly and replied "As I mentioned, it was an accident because of the darkness of the night and I already offered an apology." explained the black-haired boy coldly.
"As if that were true, all bastards are the same, beings full of greed and envy who desire what does not belong to them. If the gods were kind the bitch that birthed you would have died to prevent her from begetting more bastards like you." the woman continued ranting.
"Curious, that I am the being full of greed when your precious septs are in charge of stealing coins from small folk of southern towns with threats about the 7 hells. Your High Sept dresses like a king, with fine silks, a crown of crystal and as fat as a whale while the people of King's Landing die of hunger and disease and yet the greedy one is me, don't make me laugh you old hag." Jon exclaimed with poison in his voice, he felt a fire roar inside him every time he saw this woman and her hypocritical faith, he was Jon Snow son of Lord Eddard Stark, he had the blood of the Kings of Winter and this Andal daughter of a peasant believed that she was better than him.
"How dare you talk to me like that, I'm a servant of the Sev..." The bitter woman began to speak
"I care not about your false gods you stupid woman." roared Jon, he felt a heat rise inside him. "You are in the North! Bastion of the Old Gods! Not your precious gods! Your precious sept, nor your hypocritical faith have any power here. Who do you think you are to talk to me like that. I am Jon, son of Eddard, Lord of Winterfell, no one wants your barking here now get the fuck out of my sight now!" Jon was beside himself, the fire roared louder and he had raised his voice, he had never lost his temper, he always let the insults and the dirt that came out of that woman's mouth pass, but mentioning the woman who gave him life in such a derogatory way had made him out of his mind.
"Lady Stark will find out about this, bastard, they will throw you out or send you to the wall, I'm going to take care of that." exclaimed the scared woman, although she wanted to appear strong and confident
"Good, I'll talk to Lord Stark, and we'll see what happens! Now get out of here, the fortress is for members of House Stark or noble visitors, which you're neither ,so go to the servants' quarters or to your precious sept I don't care which!" Jon spat as he walked furiously towards his original destination.
After calming himself Jon muttered to himself "I shouldn't have done that, it was reckless."
He knew that what he had just done was a mistake. Not because of what he said, but because he lost his temper in such a way. That kind of situation can lead to irreparable consequences, he knew that he would be punished for the action, but he cared little.
He was walking through the entrance to The Godswood, when he heard it.
'Jon...'!Came a whisper from the depths of the woods.
The voice was as soft as the Myrish silk that his sister liked so much. So faint was the whisper that, for just a moment he thought he was hearing things, until it happened again.
'Jon, son...' The whisper was heard more clearly. His heart became cold, son? That wasn't his father's voice, it was a sweet, feminine voice, the voice of a... Woman.
"Who's there," Jon replied with more courage in his voice than he really felt.
The voice responded more forcefully 'Jon, son, the heart tree, it's the key.' The voice replied urgently.
With his hand firmly on his new sword Jon asked. "Key to what, who are you? Are you, my mother?" Jon replied with a broken voice.
The subject of his mother was always delicate, that someone could be so cruel that pretending to be his mother in the Godswood to play a joke on him filled him with fury, would make whoever was responsible pay if it was a joke.
'But what if it isn't a joke?' Asked a small treacherous voice in the back of his mind. What if it were really his mother? He would have the answers he wanted so much, so, he drew the sword and went into the darkness of the trees where those whispers became louder and louder, they always said the same thing and no matter how close he got he found no one, the journey seemed eternal to Jon until he reached the heart tree, which stared back at him, impassive, the whispers had stopped but he felt... Something, it was difficult to explain, but something about the old tree attracted him like a moth to a flame.
When he arrived and saw no one Jon wanted to scream helplessly, surely it had been a cruel joke and he also felt like a fool, because why would his mother would be there, it didn't make any sense.
Jon turned to leave the woods when a whisper was heard, this one was different from the others.
'The truth...' The whisper was heard.
'What truth?' Jon thought as he tried to understand what the voice was referring to. He did not know what the voice meant, but what he did know was that the whisper came from the tree. He did not question his own mind when he asked.
"The truth. what do you mean? Truth about what?!" Jon responded angrily.
'The truth, freedom, to recover what was lost.' Whispered the tree more loudly. What had started as a normal breeze had started to gained strength. Thunder began to be heard and a great storm seemed to have formed out of nowhere over the Godswood.
"Recover what thing? Speak clearly, no more riddles, answer me!" roared Jon, who, in his poor emotional state, continued to demand from the tree that represented his gods.
'Touch me, there is no time, recover what was lost.' exclaimed the voice of the tree urgently.
"If this is another joke, I swear I'll slit the throat of the person responsible myself!" Jon exclaimed as he approached the trunk of the old tree with uncertainty.
As he held his hand up and approached the moment he touched the trunk Jon felt an immense pain in his head, right between his eyes, it was so intense that, for but a moment, he wish for death if only that such agony would end.
Although it felt like an eternity, the event lasted but an instant. Without knowing it, Jon began lose his strength little by little and just before fainting he heard the voice whisper for the last time and say words that he would not understand until much later.
'Good luck young dragon, succeed where others have failed.'
The young man's body fell helplessly into the pool beside the heart treet, and just as the body touched the water, a thunderbolt from the storm struck the heart tree, the eyes of the carved face glowed a deep dark red, so bright that the light was visible from all over Winterfell. While the pond was illuminated with a bright blue light, the magical anomaly lasting but a few seconds, the old gods had spent all of their accumulated strength of centuries of lethargy for such an act.
While they gradually felt their strength diminish and fell dormant again, hoping that the young dragon could restore what was lost.
Meanwhile, in a magical castle located in the Scottish Highlands, a half-giant with a bushy beard and fur trench coat, was preparing to make the usual tour of the grounds, his name was Rubeus Hagrid and he was the gamekeeper of Hogwarts school, the best magic school in the world in his opinion.
He was leaving his hut as usual when suddenly, his hound Fang began barking uncontrollably.
"What's up, boy? Calm down." the half-giant tried to calm the dog.
In response, the hound ran to the shore of Black Lake down the hill, hurried and cautious. Not knowing what he disturbed his dog so much, the half-giant readied himself with his crossbow and followed him without having the slightest idea of what was to come.
Hagrid expected to find some magical creature or some danger to the castle.
To his surprise all he found was the body of a young boy, completely soaked. The boy was gripping a sword with a wolf's pommel in one hand, and what looked like a pale branch with red leaves in the other, he sped up the boy, scooped him up and ran towards the infirmary with a final thought.
'Professer Dumbledore has to be informed about this!'