The feast had ended, and the Great Hall of Winterfell was quiet, the echoes of laughter and music replaced by the soft crackling of the hearth. Ned Stark sat by the fire, his grey eyes fixed on the flames, his mind heavy with the weight of the decisions he had made.


    Jon approached quietly, his footsteps barely audible on the stone floor. “Father,” he said, his voice low but steady.


    Ned looked up, his expression softening as he saw his son. “Jon,” he said, gesturing to the chair beside him. “Sit.”


    Jon sat down, his dark eyes meeting Ned’s. For a moment, they sat in silence, the warmth of the fire filling the space between them.


    “I wanted to talk to you,” Jon said finally. “About what I said earlier. About renouncing my claim.”


    Ned nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I heard you, Jon. And I understand why you did it. But I want to know... why now? Why make such a declaration in front of everyone?”


    Jon took a deep breath, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “I don’t want Winterfell,” he said. “I never have. What I want... is to protect my sister. To make sure she’s safe, no matter what happens.”


    Ned’s eyes softened, a flicker of pride shining through. “You’ve always been a protector, Jon. Even as a boy, you looked out for Mary. I’m proud of you for that.”


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    Jon nodded, his expression serious. “She’s my sister. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”


    Ned’s heart ached with a mix of pride and guilt. He thought of his own sister, Lyanna, and the promises he had failed to keep. “You’re a better man than I was at your age,” Ned said quietly. “Lyanna... I couldn’t protect her. But you... you’re doing what I couldn’t.”


    Jon’s eyes softened, but he shook his head. “I’m not doing it to prove anything. I’m doing it because she’s my sister. And because I love her.”


    Ned reached out, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I know, Jon. And I’m proud of you. More than you’ll ever know.”


    <hr>


    Later, as Jon left the hall, he found Shadow in the courtyard, his glowing eyes fixed on a peculiar sight. The missing turkey from the feast was being shared among the direwolves, their sharp teeth tearing into the meat with gusto. Even the bones were being crunched and devoured, leaving nothing to waste.


    Shadow’s form rippled with amusement as he watched Mary, her face smeared with grease, gnawing on a particularly large bone. “I hope she didn’t swallow any of those,” Shadow said, his voice a low hum in Jon’s mind.


    Jon sighed, shaking his head. “She’s acting more and more like a direwolf every day.”


    As if on cue, Mary let out a loud fart, her tail wagging furiously as she grinned at Jon. Shadow’s form rippled with laughter, his glowing eyes flickering with amusement.


    “Smell the roses yet?” Shadow teased, his voice filled with mirth.


    Jon groaned, pinching his nose. “Gods, Mary. You’re worse than the wolves.”


    Mary growled playfully, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief. She tossed the bone aside and bounded over to Jon, nuzzling his hand with her greasy face.