He grew up with stories of legendary fighters and brilliant builders. He imagined himself in their stories, falling into the role of the heroes of old. He fed off the honor they provided, used them as a shield against Lady Catelyn's hatred, against the wall that seemed to separate him from his half siblings. He was a bastard. A reminder of her husband's infidelity. Most of his half siblings tolerated him, loved him as any family member would love a distant relative. Sansa and Theon cared little for him, Robb was more a friend than brother. Bran and Rickon were too young to understand. However, Arya Stark didn't mind his birth status, she just loved her brother and wanted to impress him. So Jon Snow was happy, happy his little sister loved him, happy he had a home, happy he was part of the family. But there was something missing, he just didn't know what.

"Jon! Jon!"

Jon turn around to find a young village boy, Leo. He was smaller than most, but faster than all, including Jon.

"Is it true you're going to the Wall?"

"Aye." He said with a smile. "I'm gonna be a watcher on the wall."

Leo grinned. "I hope you do well Jon Snow."

"Me too Leo, me too." Jon whispered to himself. With that, Jon turned and walked back inside to pack his few belongings. Longclaw was already at his side, so the only things left were his cloaks, his armor, and a small crest Ned Stark had given him on his 18th birthday along with a letter to be opened once Ned and Catelyn has died. He pulled the trunk down the hall only to run into Arya chasing after Nymeria.

"NYMERIA STOP!" Arya cried as she pushed past Jon.

"Arya!" Scolded Catelyn, chasing down her youngest daughter. "This is unladyli-" She was cut off when she tripped over Jon's trunk.

"I'm sorry Lady Catelyn." He said out of duty, helping her up. She glared at him, then turned and stalked off towards Arya and Nymeria.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Finally Jon was on the back of his horse, riding towards Castle Black. He had moved his things from his trunk into two travel bags that he had attached to his horse. A faint smile graced the face of Jon Snow, an unusual sight for the man. He was not an unhappy person, but his face was mainly painted with a frown or grimace. Still, he found solace in the fact he would no longer bear the title of bastard. So he went on, he continued on his path, but not everything was going to go according to plan.