The royal procession was still days away and I spent most of my time moving through the place, but not wandering without purpose though.
Winterfell wasn't built like the castles I'd seen in the show. It was older, shaped by use more than design, with heat rising through the walls from the springs below and narrow passages that let people move without crossing the main halls. I followed those paths when I found them, paying attention to where they led and how they connected, building a picture of the castle that didn't rely on sight alone.
The kitchens, the granaries, the smaller doors people didn't think about unless they needed them, those mattered more than the wide corridors and open courtyards.
If things ever turned bad, it wouldn't be the main gates that decided who survived.
It would be the paths no one else paid attention to.
The system stayed in the background, quiet enough that I didn't have to think about it unless I chose to.
[Level 6]
[Detection Radius Expanded]
In the afternoons, when the yard cleared out and the noise settled, I usually found Jon.
He didn't stay where the others gathered. While Robb drew people in without trying, Jon kept to the edges, working on his own or watching without stepping forward. It wasn't something anyone pointed out, but it was easy to see once you knew where to look.
I found him near the armory, sitting on a mounting block with a whetstone in hand, drawing it slowly along the edge of a practice blade. The sound carried across the empty yard.
I didn't sneak up on him.
I walked straight across the open space and stopped beside him, lowering myself to sit near his feet.
He didn't react right away.
The motion of his hand slowed, then stopped, and after a moment he glanced down at me, not surprised, just… aware.
"You again," he said, his voice low, like he wasn't used to speaking louder than he needed to.
I didn't make a sound.
I leaned slightly against his leg instead, letting the warmth carry through without pushing for attention.
He noticed.
They always did.
Jon looked at me for a second longer than necessary, then reached down, his hand hovering briefly before resting against my head. The hesitation was still there, but it wasn't as sharp as it had been the first time.
"You don't act like the others," he said, more to himself than to me.
His hand stayed where it was, fingers moving slowly through my fur like he wasn't sure how much pressure to use.
"Don't beg, don't make noise… just show up."
I nudged his hand lightly, not enough to demand anything, just enough to keep the contact there.
He let out a breath that sounded like it had been sitting there for a while.
"Ghost does that too," he said after a moment. "He just… disappears when he feels like it."
There was a small pause before he added, quieter this time, "Guess that makes sense."
I didn't respond to that.
Didn't need to.
I moved slightly, then rested a paw against his boot, not as a trick, just a simple point of contact that kept him grounded in the moment.
He noticed that too.
His shoulders eased a little, the tension that usually sat there loosening just enough to be visible if you were paying attention.
"Strange dog," he said, though there wasn't anything dismissive in it.
His hand moved again, scratching behind my ears with a bit more confidence this time.
For a while, neither of us said anything.
The yard stayed quiet, the only sound coming from the wind moving past the walls and the faint scrape of steel somewhere farther off.
"Ghost's been going down into the crypts," Jon said eventually, like the silence had stretched long enough that he felt the need to fill it.
"He likes it there. Quiet, I guess."
He looked down at me again.
"You're different though."
He paused, as if trying to find the right way to say it.
"When you're around, it doesn't feel as… empty."
The way he said it wasn't meant to sound important.
It just came out that way.
I stayed where I was, not moving, not breaking the moment by reacting too much.
After a while, the bells rang from the Great Hall, the sound carrying clearly through the yard and breaking whatever quiet had settled there.
Jon pulled his hand back and stood, adjusting the sword at his side before looking down at me again.
He gave a small nod and gone.
I watched him walk toward the hall, his steps a little more certain than before, though the difference was small enough that most people wouldn't notice it.
I did.
I turned away after he disappeared inside and made my way back across the yard, passing along the outer wall where the air carried something new.
It wasn't strong yet, but it was there.
Horses. A lot of them. People. Movement.
The road was getting closer.
I didn't need to see it to know what it meant.
The King wasn't far.
And where he went, others followed.
I moved toward the kennels and settled into the straw near the direwolf pups, who were already far larger than anything their age should have allowed. Grey Wind moved slightly when I lay down, letting out a quiet breath before settling again.
I closed my eyes, not fully resting, just letting my thoughts settle into place one last time.
The castle was mapped out well enough.
The paths were there.
When things changed and they would, I wouldn't be guessing where to go.
I'd already know.