The night was cold that evening. Winter was finally coming to the wall, and Samwell Tarley knew just how to keep warm. He gathered up his blacks and left his cell to head to the laundry. Ghost was waiting in the hallway.
"Where's Jon Ghost?" Sam hesitantly asked. The wolf always frightened him without Jon nearby. He would never adjust to his presence.
Ghost turned and stalked away. Sam followed, stumbling, bumbling, and dropping a few of his things in the process. He followed him down a few short corridors; apparently Ghost was heading to the laundry too. What luck, Sam thought!
Sam walked in and found Jon down to his shorts and possibly half drunk to boot.
"Jon? Is everything alright?"
"Sam. You know I've always wanted to go digging for gold in Mole's Town. These past few months I have yearned for what I just cannot have, the touch of a woman."
Ghost padded to the door and nosed it shut. Curious, Sam thought, he'd never seen the wolf act this way before. He turned around to see Jon pulling his own blacks from the wash and hanging them up to dry.
"These will take hours to dry Sam, what will we ever do to kill some time?" Jon enticed.
Sam held his breath... could it really be? What he had never dared dreamed of since his Lord Snow stuck up for him? Since Ser Allister the mighty cruel knight cursed him as Ser Piggy? Sam took the hint and quickly disrobed, carelessly tossing his clothes into the wash tub.
Sam turned back to Jon, slightly bumping him as if an accident. He gently brushed the hair back from Jon's forehead and leaned in for that first sweet forbidden taste.
"We can take no wives, have no children, but damn them to the Others if we can't enjoy this," whispered Jon to Sam.