The candlelight flickered in the dim solar of Winterfell, casting long shadows across the heavy wooden table where Eddard Stark sat, deep in thought. The recent discussion about the expedition beyond the Wall still weighed on him. It was a bold plan—perhaps even reckless—but Wylis Manderly had made compelling arguments. The North had been too passive for too long, and if there truly were dangers lurking beyond the Wall, it was better to confront them on their terms rather than wait for disaster.
But there was another matter to consider.
His son—no, his bastard—Jon Snow.
For years, Jon had spoken of his desire to take the black, to join the Night's Watch and find purpose beyond the shadow of his true-born siblings. The boy was already preparing to leave with Benjen in the coming days. Yet, something about this expedition made Eddard pause.
Perhaps it was the chance for Jon to experience the dangers of the far North before making his final decision. Or perhaps it was his own guilt, the weight of a long-held secret pressing against his chest. If things had been different, if truths could be spoken freely, Jon would not be here in Winterfell, yearning for a place in the world that was not his by birthright.
Ned took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do.
Jon Snow's Choice
Jon Snow stood in the courtyard, his breath visible in the crisp northern air, as he practiced his swings against a straw dummy. His mind was restless—his departure for the Wall was close, yet something gnawed at him. He had overheard the discussions about the expedition beyond the Wall, had seen the excitement in the eyes of men eager to test their steel in the frozen wastes. He envied them. The Night's Watch would offer him discipline, purpose, but would it offer him glory? A chance to make a real difference?
When Lord Stark summoned him, Jon was expecting final words before he left for Castle Black. Instead, he found his lord father seated across from Wylis Manderly in the solar, both men regarding him with a level intensity that made his pulse quicken.
"Jon," Lord Stark began, his voice measured. "I have been considering the coming expedition beyond the Wall. Wylis here has convinced me that we should send some of our best to accompany him. You have always spoken of your desire to take the black, and I have no doubt you would serve honorably. But before you make that choice, I want you to see what lies beyond the Wall for yourself."
Jon blinked, caught off guard. "You... you wish for me to go with them?"
Wylis, lounging in his seat with a quiet confidence, nodded. "Aye. We will need sharp swords and sharper minds. I won't lie, Jon Snow—this will be dangerous. We are going into the unknown. But this will also be a test, an opportunity. You'll see the Wall and what it stands against. Then, when the time comes, you will truly know whether you belong among them."
Jon felt his chest tighten. This was everything he wanted—adventure, purpose, a chance to prove himself. And yet, there was hesitation. "Uncle Benjen is expecting me at Castle Black. What will he think?"
Lord Stark leaned forward. "Benjen will understand. If you are to join the Watch, let it be as a man who knows what he is truly guarding. If you still wish to take the black after this journey, you will do so with my blessing."
Jon swallowed hard and then nodded. "I'll go."
Ned sighed, the weight of another decision pressing upon him. He only hoped it was the right one.
A Quiet Warning
As their conversation wrapped up, Wylis leaned forward, his expression more serious than before. "Lord Stark, before I leave, I must offer you a warning. King's Landing is a viper's pit. You must trust no one."
Ned frowned, his fingers tightening against the armrest of his chair. "I am no stranger to court intrigue."
"Aye," Wylis said, "but you are a man of honor, and that makes you vulnerable there. The moment you set foot in the Red Keep, you will be surrounded by snakes. If you need anything—supplies, ships, or a way out—I have a ship docked in King's Landing through the moon. If things go south, contact them."
The implication was clear. Wylis was offering him an escape route if things became dire. Ned held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. "I appreciate the offer, though I pray I will not have to use it."
Wylis only smiled. "Pray for the best, but prepare for the worst."
Final Preparations
With Jon now part of the expedition, final preparations were made in earnest. Winterfell's armory provided extra furs, weapons, and provisions. Wylis's men busied themselves with organizing supplies, checking maps, and discussing routes with those familiar with the land beyond the Wall.
The party was larger now—hardened men of White Harbor, seasoned hunters, a few Stark guards, and now, Jon Snow. The presence of Eddard Stark's bastard lent them even more weight. It would be noted by the Night's Watch, by the lords of the North, and perhaps even beyond.
As Wylis oversaw the preparations, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The true test lay ahead, in the frozen wastelands where ancient evils slumbered.
The expedition would set out at dawn.