Hand of the King

Leaving was the hard part. The first time Jon had to leave, it nearly broke his heart to think of those he was leaving to a cruel fate. His duty was more important there in Afghanistan than it was back home. There, he was nothing but a bastard child. His mother wouldn't even look at him. But in the Night's Watch? He was a soldier, a prized man on the battlefield for his skill.

He opened his eyes to the sound of a flight attendant's calm voice, alerting them for the OK to exit the plane. With little more than his standard issue military pack, he was ready to go from the get go. There was no military plane for Jon, no, he made a few stops first. His siblings wouldn't forgive him if he came back empty handed.

There to meet him was Theon Greyjoy, their butler of sorts. He stuck to Robb like a cub to it's mother, not that Jon cared. It was simply a surprise to see him on his own.

"Theon." Jon gave him a hard smile, slapping his shoulder. He was tired and ready for a well deserved rest.

"Welcome back, Jon." He returned a slight smile. The lad wasn't exactly pleased he was serving the family, but, he didn't dislike the Stark's. "Your father's told me to tell you, the King is here. You best say hello before you go anywhere."

"I might." Jon replied through pursed lips. He wasn't a Stark, so it wasn't entirely necessary for him to greet the King. Not technically. "Let's go."

Back to the house they went, large and grand to accommodate the family. With six children, there was always noise, rambunctious bodies running through the halls, screaming about petty things like bathrooms and music.

It's good to be back.

By the time Jon arrived, dinner had long since started, and he didn't dare enter the room so late and in his current clothes. Instead, he fetched himself a plate straight from the kitchen and headed up to his room. That is, if it was still in the same spot he remembered, the Lady Stark liked to keep him guessing from time to time, and going on long tours didn't help. His room was left empty, with few possessions.

Ned tried to hide the chuckled which coughed out of his throat, but it was too late. His wife had probably heard him.

"Arya, behave yourself." He scolded.

It was useless, he was grinning now as the girl prepared a spoonful of potatoes to fling at her sister. There was only one warning call before they flew gracefully from Arya's place and towards her sister, landing perfectly between her and the Prince.

Ned bit his finger to keep every chuckle at bay as his girl's fought. He turned to the King to distract their misbehaving. "Robert, how's London then? Hm?"

Well behaved or not, Ned loved his boisterous family. He should've known better than to put Arya and her sister Sansa so close together at the table, but what was done was done.

"Queen Cersei, I apologize for my children's behavior." Ned apologized, in the corner of his eye his wife might have been able to tell he was lying, but on the outside he appeared sincere.

"It's alright." She said snidely. "Different situations, I understand."

Also a comment that essentially screamed, my children are better than yours.

It wasn't long before Arya noticed the door cracked open where her brother should've been. Confused, she cracked it open. Robb tried to lead her back to her room, but it was too late. She bolted inside and attacked Jon.

"You're home!"

Ned reached his hand out over Catelyn's and gave it an affectionate squeeze. While she may not have loved his bastard son, he was still home after a long tour in Afghanistan.

Jon embraced his brother. He was still in his military uniform, minus the jacket which was safely stowed away in his bag. Black shirt, dog tags, and his dirty camo pants. He was sure he smelled terrible, so he made the hug last twice as long so his brother would smell just as bad in his nice clothes.

"I think it was supposed to be a surprise." Jon pulled away from his brother and brushed a hand over his hair. Much too long in the deserts and heat, he'd grown used to pulling it back now. "But, the King is a little more important than me."

There were still other siblings to see, and one who might cry if he stepped downstairs. Sansa Stark, his younger sister. He didn't want to embarrass her at dinner.