He had been laying on his bed and staring at the wall for what seemed like hours. Ghost was asleep on the floor and the halls had been silent for the most part. Jon was a mess of emotions. He just couldn't see how a man like the Lord Commander could just dismiss him like that, as if he was a child that had thrown a tantrum. If there was anything Jon was not it was childish. He felt as if he never really had a childhood, that even though his father loved him and he loved his father fiercely, he was still an outcast. A bastard.

"A traitor's bastard."

"Ahhh!" He roared at his mind, begging it to erase such a vile memory. Eventually he would leave this place and he would find his father. He would save him and show the world what mistake they had made by branding him with such a title. Jon would show them.

And then there was a knock at the door. He sat up, squinted curiously, and then beckoned the visitor to enter. It was Ser Mormont. Jon immediately turned his gaze from him, studying the fabric of his bed instead. He didn't know why he felt such shame at that moment, but it was something he couldn't control and so he didn't.

The Lord Commander studied Jon for a few seconds before taking a seat in the chair by the hearth. He let several moments of silence go by, satisfied at the way his steward squirmed, and then he spoke.

"Jon, you disappoint me." It was short, painful, and warranted the full attention of the boy at once. "I told you not to do anything stupid, the news was grievous indeed, but I commanded you to remember your place. Ser Alliser has been with us for decades, he is far beyond your station. It was foolish, rash, and mainly stupid." He sat forward and intertwined his fingers, ready to go on with the lecture, when Jon burst into words.

He stood. "How can you scold me like this? I am not a child and I will not be told of how ignorant and foolish and anything else you think I am! I am a man of the night's watch and if anyone, even Ser Alliser, speaks to me with such venom I will see to it that he never-"

"SIT DOWN!" Ser Mormont bellowed. The order was like a harsh slap in the face. It struck Jon so hard he fell back onto the bed, fear dancing in his proud eyes.

It was the Lord Commander's turn to stand. "When I command I expect you to obey, when I lecture I expect you to listen, and when I speak of truth and facts I expect you to give silence and attention. You are a boy and you will be one for some time to come. You have never known the age of winter and I truly wish you never had to, but after you survive the likes of that, you will know what being a man is. A man of the night's watch. I do not mean to tear you down, boy, or to wound your loyal beating heart, but you must know your place and know that I am who you will answer to for your crimes, no matter how unjust you feel they are." He came to stand directly in front of Jon, looking down on him like a great bear as he spoke. "I am not protecting Thorne, I am not holding an opinion that anyone who speaks to wound someone deeply should be awarded any kind of revenge, and I am most certainly not in favor of handing out a punishment for this discretion." Jon tensed at the last part, swallowing any words he might have used in protest as he trained his wide eyes on the riding crop he had just noticed latched to Ser Mormont's belt. "But..." he sighed, "you have earned yourself one, Snow."

Jon opened his mouth to protest and then closed it awkwardly. He tried the motion again but found his jaw was locked. He ground his teeth together and looked down at the floor. Ser Mormont took a step back, taking Snow's gesture as a sign of submission. He unclasped the riding crop from it's stagnant position and held it to attention by his side. It had been made specifically for him and was given to him, along with his horse, when he had earned the title of Lord. The handle was sanded blood oak and the long thin body was braided leather. The small flap at the end was long ago removed, for Ser Mormont had found a different reason to use his crop that didn't involve horses at all. "Rise and come forward, Snow."

As Jon studied the floor beneath him, aware of his keeper's stare and obvious inclination, he chose a different path. Even with the renewed rebellion he pressed into it, he still felt the dull gnawing of regret. "No." He clenched his hands into fists, acting much like a child fighting his father's wishes then anything else.

The Lord Commander knew it would take more then a few words and a threat to force Jon to accept his fate. He was willing to give him what he wanted but it was wearing deeply on his nerves. He all but growled out, "You, boy, are insufferable. Did you think that your fiasco in the common hall was going to go unnoticed by the people that could truly do you harm, the high council? You were to be held here until they could decide what dark pit they wanted to send you to, that being either a barren outpost or death itself. You don't simply try to kill Alliser Thorne and walk away from it." Jon kept his gaze but was quickly realizing the favor he had been done by Ser Mormont. "I know you aren't an ungrateful wretch like most all of em, but you can push those limits and trust me when I say, Jon, you are getting far too close to that cliff. I convinced the council to let me handle you. It took time and quite a bit of bickering but in the end I was the victor. And now I plan on thrashing you soundly, Snow."

It left him slack jawed. Jon didn't know what to do or what to say but the thrashing that his Lord promised was terrifying to him. He pushed back on the bed, trying to propel himself out of reach but Ser Mormont was finished with his insolence. He lifted Jon by his upper arm and half carried half pulled him to his feet and towards the center of the room. He noticed a bucket used for water flipped upside down and empty against the wall. The Lord Commander, with an iron grip preventing his struggling steward from succeeding in any kind of escape, slid the bucket to the center of the room and propped his foot up on it. He then grunted under his breath, growing tired of Snow's relentless rebellion. Without any warning at all he released his hold on Jon's arm and gave him a harsh swat across the ass with the crop, warranting a started yelp. Jon put some distance between himself and his keeper, winced and rubbed his backside, forgetting about pride and bravado, lost to the look he was getting for being so disrespectful. His inner child was coming to the surface as he shook his head slowly when Ser Mormont, so close to a father now, calmly commanded his return as he tapped his riding crop on the boot he had propped up on the bucket.

"Snow, if I have to collect you I will have you take your dagger and venture to the front entrance, past all of your curious brothers, and cut me a switch. Then I will strip you like a boy and stripe you until my arm hurts. Do we have an understanding?"

Jon swallowed hard and bit his lip, drawing his eyes to the floor as he quickly made his way to the Lord Commander's side.

Mormont studied his steward for a moment and then gestured for him to lose the cloak. Jon was quick to obey, never lifting his head. When he was told as an afterthought to put Ghost outside the door he did that as well, silently and quickly, but without eye contact. And as he arrived back at Mormont's side his Lord took a gloved finger and lifted Snow's chin.

"I know you aren't going to like it, and you aren't supposed to. But this will make you no less of a man, Jon Snow. You will pay for your mistakes and that only makes you stronger. Do you hear me?"

Jon tried to glance away, a sheen of liquid covering his eyes. Ser Mormont unconsciously swatted him with his hand, raising his eyebrows in warning as Jon knit his own brows and mumbled, "Yes, my Lord, I hear you."

"Good." And at that he was again taken by his upper arm and then forced swiftly over Ser Mormont's broad thigh. Being as tall as he was Jon's feet never left the ground. He did, however, instinctively wrap his arms around his Lord's leg and let his head hang, his dark hair covering his face.

The Lord Commander was not at liberty to take a gentle hand to his young rebel. This lesson would leave a lasting impression and he was determined to make sure it was learned. He pressed his palm down onto Jon's lower back and laid down blow after blow, using enough force to get inside Snow's hard head.

Jon was very stoic at first, barely tensing under the onslaught. But soon it was hard to hide his emotions. He started to struggle, moving this way and that, trying to hide the target of all the fiery pain he was receiving. The only thing moving got him was a warning grunt and a harder stroke, though, and so he soon channeled that energy into sound rather then action. He cried out after every other swat, hoping he would sound rehabilitated and the punishment would stop.

It was a silly hope.

The Lord Commander was as skilled as a general and his army with his vicious crop. The braided leather would leave it's mark for some time on Jon's fair skin, making it difficult to do most anything. He knew it would soon become obvious to his brothers as to what transpired and he was dreading their questions. An extra hard stroke drug him out of his thoughts and ripped a plea from his throat. "P-please my Lord, ah it's enough!"

Ser Mormont did not slow his pace while remarking, "That's not for you to decide, boy."

"B-but my Lord, GOD! I can't...I really can't." He was struggling again, taking the harder strikes and coming apart from the strain to withstand them.

"You can and you will, I am not through yet." It was quickly getting to become too much of a chore for Ser Mormont to hold his steward down. An immediate decision was made and Jon was pulled to his feet, startled and flustered. His Lord gave him a withering glare and pointed to the corner of the room. "Go stand with your nose to the wall, Snow, I can't continue fighting you every step of the way. Maybe some time will calm you down." Mormont stood and turned away from Jon, rolling his shoulders, expecting the order to be followed as simply as it was given.

Jon was in a panic.

"My Lord, you...you can't be serious? I am not a child-"

"You keep saying that Snow, have you convinced yourself yet? Because you have not convinced me. If you insist on constantly questioning me I can follow through with my earlier statement." He took a seat in the chair, lighting up a pipe he had readied while responding.

Jon felt as if his teeth would shatter at any moment from the pressure at which he clenched his jaw, it was infuriating being so helpless. He turned stiffly and made his way to the suggested corner, resting his forehead against the cool wall and crossing his arms above his head. It was horribly embarrassing and he seethed in silence.

After a stretch of time that Mormont found acceptable, he called Jon back to his side. As he had hoped, Jon was very responsive and placed himself back into position without guidance. He was still tense, but that was to be expected. The Lord Commander resumed his pace and was satisfied at the mild squirming and quiet whimpers his steward gave him. By the time the whipping was over Jon had warms tears streaming down his face. One arm was wrapped around Mormon'ts leg and the other had been run through his own hair, grasping a clump in desperation. He was limp and breathing with shutters when his Lord clasped the riding crop back onto his belt and squeezed Jon's shoulder in forgiveness. He then helped Snow to his feet and positioned his chin to guide his gaze to his own.

"Are we clear that you will no longer act like a fool, weather it is warranted or not?"

"Yes my Lord." He sniffed.

"And do you understand that if you need to be punished that you will answer to me and I will not accept your disobedience?"

"Of course my Lord." It was said softer but he meant it with everything in his being. He was fiercely loyal to this man and he was hard pressed to prove himself to him. A stray tear ran down Jon's face but he didn't notice it.

Ser Mormont smiled inwardly, reminding himself why he chose this boy. He would become everything he had hoped him to be.

Jon turned away and headed toward the door. "I will apologize to Sir Alliser-"

"No you wont. I sent him away. He is bound for Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. He will place the hand your Ghost tore from Jafer Flower's wrist at the boy king's feet, that should get young Joffrey's attention."

Jon was speechless.

"As well it puts a thousand leagues between you and him, you wont have to worry about anymore quarrels during dinner time." Mormont put bass into his voice but the creeping smile Jon wore was proof enough of what his Lord had hoped to accomplish by the announcement.

The Lord Commander took his leave shortly after and Jon was allowed to join his brothers for some time before he was made to sleep. It was hard to fight off their constant berating of what had happened and why his face was so red and why he wouldn't sit but instead stand beside the hearth but Snow wouldn't say he word. He just smiled humbly and was lost in his own thoughts of the coming winter and what role he would play in that future.