Davos
Castle Black was in a poor state. Not that anyone south of the Trident would have ever known that. Letters always came from the Night's Watch, requesting more souls to bolster their numbers and supplies. He would have thought with how frequently those letters went out that people would have answered them. And now Stannis had turned his eyes to Winterfell, the pinnacle of the North. But Davos had his own thoughts about that and from what he knew, Winterfell would not be easily taken. It was on the word of that accursed woman that Stannis would dash himself against the walls of Winterfell. Then there was the topic of Jon Snow.
Davos was blatantly aware that they would need a Stark if they wanted the rest of the North to join them. He'd received the letter today stating that the Mormonts would only follow a true Stark. The Northerners were made of a similar bolt of cloth as Stannis and it was their stubbornness that vexed the Baratheon so. If only you could look into a mirror and realize they're quite similar, he thought, watching as Baratheon men were building a pyre that evening. This only meant one thing, Mance Rayder had declined to bend his knee.
He wondered how soon after the burning of Mance would the brothers decide who was to be their new Lord Commander. An ebbing, awful feeling gnawed at his stomach, aware that Alliser Thorne would probably become the next leader of Castle Black. That spelled trouble for Jon Snow if it came to pass. Steeling himself for the bitter execution (one that he did not agree with) he watched as a figure in pale blue flitted across the darkening tiltyard to join him. He immediately recognized Lady Tyrell and felt a bit at ease beside the girl as she chose to wear a dress beneath her cloak that evening.
"My lady," he greeted, catching a glimpse of her comely face as the nearby torches brightened it. Had his sons not died, he had dreamed they would marry a lady as beautiful as Elaine. The Tyrells were known for their attractiveness and it was refreshing to have the lovely blue rose in their company, especially seeing that she had a good head on her shoulders and wasn't absolutely helpless.
"No moon tonight," she commented grimly, glancing up at the sky with her pale eyes. "The Dornish say that executions with no moon to bear witness is cruel and will stave it off for days, even weeks until the moon is bright and watching."
"And what do they say if the execution is still committed?" Davos inquired.
Elaine dropped her eyes, ghostly when reflected in the fire. "They consider it murder, not an execution."
Davos nodded slowly, crossing his hands in front of him. He didn't like any of this either, perhaps the girl was right in saying that it bode ill to not do this beneath the eyes of the moon and stars. "Well, I just hope we can get this over with quickly," he grumbled.
"Doubtful since it'll be done by fire," she pointed out as people began milling out into the yard to await the execution.
Jon Snow appeared with his ivory white dire wolf at his side, he appeared bothered and displeased that it had all come to this. Davos stared intently at him, hoping that the young man had taken everything into consideration. Finally, Stannis, Melisandre, and Selyse descended from the chambers they had been utilizing. In tandem, Mance Rayder was brought before the pyre for one last stand.
Poised in front of Stannis, the ex-Ranger gave a bored and insolent look up at him, clearly not having changed his mind. "Mance Rayder, I entreat you one last time. Will you bend your knee and join my cause?" Stannis asked, voice booming through the yard as everyone watching teetered delicately, waiting to see what the Crow turned wildling would decide.
"No," Mance told him coldly.
Stannis stepped back and nodded to the soldiers that were gripping him. Hoisting the man up onto the pyre, they began securing his bindings to the post and once they were content, gamboled down. "Then you shall be executed for committing treason. There is only one true king in the Seven Kingdoms," Stannis picked up one of the torches and threw it onto the kiln dried wood that was at the man's feet.
Davos flinched, having seen many burned to appease the Lord of Light. There would never be any getting used to it, as it twisted his heart to think what the one burning might suffer. To him, a hanging was a much cleaner and fair death or even a beheading. Those were over in an instance… But this was torture, roasting the skin right off your flesh until you remained nothing more but a blackened corpse, every bit of the fire paining you as you cooked. For a moment, Davos thought of his son and how the wildfire had consumed him.
Death by fire is the purest, he thought of Melisandre's words and his fingers curled into fists, his eyes turning to her in rapt fury. She stood contentedly near the flames as they climbed closer to Mance, the heat making the man sweat. It would only be a matter of time before the screaming began.
A hand rested on his tense forearm and when he glanced over, he saw that it was Lady Elaine who was comforting him. From the flat expression on her face, he could also see that she did not look pleased by this outcome. She had also been one of few to bother to stand vigil for the wildlings they had slain. Instead of watching Mance be burned, his kept his eyes on Elaine, flinching as he heard Mance beginning to scream, the Tyrell wincing slightly as well.
However, as swiftly as it had begun, there was a fit of talking against the crackling of the fire and Elaine's eyes trailed away from the pyre. Davos looked as well, spotting Jon Snow as he took a nearby bow and pulled back the string. With a resounding thrum, the arrow flew into the pyre and struck true, killing Mance as it lanced him through the heart and ended his suffering abruptly. Davos wanted to clap at this act, but he knew what justice Jon Snow had stolen from the others.
Many brothers were glaring at him now, especially Alliser Thorne. Jon ignored them, returned the bow, and stalked off with Ghost close at his heels. Any chance he might have had there had been spoiled even further at that point. Davos followed Jon into the barracks, his dire wolf noticing him first. The albino beast did unnerve him a bit with its crimson eyes, reminding him vaguely of Melisandre.
"Jon," Davos called carefully, watching at the Crow turned to face him. Plainly written on his long face was the dismay of what was happening just outside the walls. "You should take King Stannis up on his offer. If Alliser Thorne becomes the Lord Commander, he will punish you for the mercy you just showed Mance Rayder."
A bitter smile unfolded on the man's face and Davos thought he looked very much like Ned Stark at that moment. "I am a man of the Night's Watch."
Davos stood in the doorway as Snow disappeared, a sigh expelling from his lips. How stubborn youth was. He'd seen it in his own son and now in Jon Snow. The realm needed him, but it didn't seem like the promise of Winterfell was enough to entice him.
Jon
It came to be as much of a surprise to him as it had all the others brothers when Samwell had the gall to put his name into the election for Lord Commander. What was even more astounding was that he had won because of Maester Aemon. Now that Jon had settled into his new position, about a week had passed, and he knew that Stannis would not wait much longer for an answer. He recalled the words of Ser Davos Seaworth regarding his decision to show Mance Rayder mercy, but he did not regret it. The ex-Ranger had showed him many kindnesses and this was the last that Jon could afford him.
Mance would not kneel because he would lose the wildlings the moment he conceded to Stannis.
Rifling through his ledgers about their meager stores for the impending winter, he sighed to himself, raising his eyes only when Samwell entered through the door. This study was makeshift until Stannis left, since he was occupying the Lord Commander chambers. Ghost lifted his massive head, tail thumping slightly at the sight of a friend.
"I don't mean to bother you Jon, I know you're busy trying to catch up with all of this work but…" his companion fidgeted slightly as he stopped in front of his desk. "Lady Elaine is requesting to meet with you later this evening to discuss a raven she received."
Jon's brows furrowed, wondering what other bad news they could receive. "Did she mention what it regarded?"
"No, only that it was important," Sam informed him stoutly.
Lady Elaine intrigued Jon, but he'd been engaged by his duties to try and keep his guests comfortable. However, she was easy to spot with her light attire and the way the men's faces lit up as she passed. That unsettled him slightly, seeing that a good chunk of those under his command had been brought to Castle Black for rape. Now they had a pretty flower enticing them and even being skilled with a sword didn't mean she couldn't be caught unaware.
On the other hand, Jon would have been lying if he said he wouldn't enjoy a conversation with her. Her refreshing appearance reminded him why he fought at the Wall to protect the realm.
"House Tarly… Your liege lord was House Tyrell, correct?" Jon asked, wondering if Sam could shine a light on the enigmatic lady.
"Yes, I've been to Highgarden before. It's quite lovely," Samwell said, his eyes casting off as he seemed to lost in his memories of the manse.
"Did you know of Lady Elaine?"
At this, Samwell clearly became uncomfortable. "Yes, I knew her before… Uh well, it's a rather tender subject."
Jon arched a brow at his friend. "What do you mean?"
"Some years ago, Lady Elaine was savaged by a knight on her birthday. The Tyrells tried to keep it as quiet as possible and she vanished. I assume to Dorne where she learned to fight, I always thought that she was just hiding in one of the towers of Highgarden to waste away. I am glad to see that she is doing well, but her family could not have bartered her hand, not after she lost her innocence."
Suddenly, the reason the Tyrell was with Stannis made much more sense. The thought of teenage Elaine being raped on her name day made him shudder. He knew what it meant for a lady to not possess her maidenhead. Her family could no longer utilize her and she would be scorned for a reason she could not have prevented.
"I hope that knight lost his head," Jon muttered, turning his eyes back down toward the ledgers.
"That's always been the touchy part. I don't think the right one was punished. Someone else took the fall for it. But that's all rumor and speculation. Lady Elaine, when I knew her, was very kind and clever. They say that the Tyrell women are lovely, but you have to watch out for their thorns."
"Tell Lady Elaine I shall meet with her to discuss business. Arrange to have dinner prepared and brought up as well," Jon directed before returning to his work. He tried to set his mind to the task at hand, even after Samwell left him, but found that he was distracted by Lady Elaine's origin story and by the fact that he would be dining with her that evening.
With an angry sigh, he placed his quill in the inkwell and stood up, drawing up a bath to clean himself before he had to play the part of Lord Commander. That didn't change the fact that he would be alone in his study with a gorgeous woman. Ghost sensed his unease and nosed his hand as he buttoned up his leather jerkin and ran his fingers back through his raven curls. What would be the topic of the evening? Why did she wish to meet with him to discuss a subject?
Jon was brooding up until the point where the dinner was delivered and a stern knock resounded against the door. When he opened the door, he couldn't help but feel slightly faint by the vision in front of him. Wrapped tightly in her pale cloak, Lady Elaine wore a periwinkle dress with graceful golden metal work around the bodice, which cinched her slender waist and cut down between her breasts. The skirts billowed like lapping waves of the ocean and her sleeves were sheer, shimmering silk, slitted to reveal her warmly tanned arms, which were holding various rolls of parchment.
Long ashy brown hair fell in curls down her back and chest, a few strands twirled away from her face as she gazed at him expectantly with her clear eyes. Jon wondered if all the women in the South were just as attractive and if he had chosen the wrong occupation in that very moment. Realizing that she must be cold, he stepped aside and let her into the study which was warmed by the hearth.
Sweeping by him with the aroma of lavender following her, she glanced down at Ghost and smiled. She bent down and reached a hand out toward the dire wolf, a rather bold choice. Instead of baring his teeth at her, Ghost shoved his nose into her palm and snuffed loudly before allowing her to pet him.
"What a beautiful creature. I was hoping to see him up close," Lady Elaine commented as she scratched behind the wolf's ear. Ghost was soaking up the attention, contentedly closing his eyes as he was given a good pet.
"My lady," Jon offered her the seat at the table that had been prepared and she glanced back at him, arm still stuffed with papers, before she stood and accepted the chair.
"I'm glad that you could spare the time to meet with me. I assure you that you'll be rather pleased by the reason I've come before you, Lord Commander," she arched a brow at him and his new title, bringing forth a small smile from Jon in the comical manner that she did it. Unfurling some of the parchment, she revealed drafts of Castle Black that had likely been dredged up from the libraries that Sam worked in. Jon accepted them, brows furrowing as he saw the schematics and blueprints, many of which were for the towers and parts of the garrison that were in such disrepair that they could not be used. However, he noticed that someone had taken ink and drawn in the deficiencies, including measurements and parts that would need to be ordered for the repairs.
"And why have you brought these up, my lady?" Jon inquired as he thumbed through the various buildings.
"That is the reason I am here. On behalf of King Stannis, Castle Black is going to be restored to its original glory. Many of those schematics are of old barracks and chambers that were intended for the use of noble visitors."
"We don't get many noble visitors," Jon grumbled.
"Obviously," she drolled. "Just look at the state of this place. Can you really blame the lords and ladies for not wishing to come here for just a glance off the edge of the world? However, if there was proper room and amenities, many would grace Castle Black with their presence to see what aid the black brothers need."
Jon didn't intend to be rude, but from the amount of work she was proposing… It was truly astounding. "Where are we to get the supplies? The people to do this? The coin? I don't really see how King Stannis is in a position to requisition everything that will be needed."
When he glanced up over the parchment at her, Lady Elaine was pouring the flagon of wine. He nearly warned her that it was a sour red and not the sweet vints she was probably accustomed to. However, she sat and took a deep sip, her pale eyes watching him before she gave him an answer. "Growing strong," she recited her family's words and Jon understood the reason why she was handing him the papers. Her family would be the ones paying for this to happen and Stannis would get the credit. "Arrangements are already being made and it should only be a handful of weeks before the Bravosi arrive with the lumber, stone, and steel needed to begin their work. After they survey the damages, gut what is too far gone, and draw their own plans up, they will work on the worst of the garrison first. Their attention will be turned to this area after completing the first portion of the work.
"King Stannis is appalled by how far gone Castle Black is and believes that the brothers who guard us from what is beyond the Wall should have better dwelling areas. On top of that, a castle that has been restored to its proper glory will certainly entice more… fair souls into enlisting, especially once you have the space to accommodate them all. I have also put word in with my family to take this raven seriously and they have also began actively recruiting in the South while the war simmers down for the moment."
"And all of this was King Stannis's idea? Restore Castle Black?"
"And Shadow Tower and East Watch after this, but those plans are so far off…" Elaine took another lofty sip from the wine, her shell colored lips dappled with the plum liquor. She pursed her lips to retrieve the wine and then they curled up at him. "You look so solemn, Lord Commander. One would think that the news that Castle Black is going to be renovated completely would bring a smile to your face."
Jon's mask cracked and he breathed a wistful sigh, rolling the parchment so that he could grab his goblet, which had also been filled when he wasn't paying attention. "No, this is great news. This is probably the first bit of attention any lord or king has given us in a very long time. The timing is just…"
"Less than opportune?" she filled in.
"Yes," the wine tasted nearly rancid on his lips, but he forced it down, wondering how Elaine drank it without even the slightest hint of disdain.
"Well, know that as Lord Commander your input in the decisions on what is repaired or what it is turned into is quite important. In which case, I expect we'll be seeing a lot of each other, as I will be heading the contractors arriving here. Meanwhile, King Stannis plans to also stay to oversee the work."
Jon knew he would have to find Stannis later to thank him, even if it was not his coin or idea to do any of this in the first place. In the end, it was by Stannis's decree that made this possible and once he had the chance to share with his men their good fortune, he gleaned that the dark rut they had all been in would brighten considerably. Part of him thought of Grenn and Pyp, wishing that they could have been around to witness what was about to happen in the coming months.
"How do you like it?" Elaine's voice broke him from his thoughts. "Being Lord Commander, that is."
Jon let out a long breath. Typically a very guarded person, the pressure of those bright eyes made him relinquish a bit of information. "Busy," he started slowly. "I didn't realize how much work had gotten backed up since the Old Bear… Lord Mormont was in control. It's been a long time since someone has sat down to go over the stores, what repairs need to be made, and the work with the recruits. Although, a bit of that stress has just been lifted with your news."
"Glad I could brighten the abysmal atmosphere here just a bit, then," Elaine's lips turned up in a devilish smile that was unbefitting of a demure Southron lady, but then again, was she truly so demure? She lifted her goblet and proposed a toast, "To the Night's Watch."
After raising his own cup, the conversation leaned away from work and more toward life when it was simpler. "You grew up at Winterfell, right?" Lady Elaine asked him.
"Yes, Lord Eddard raised me alongside the rest of his children," Jon told her.
"Lord Eddard?" her brows pulled together. "Did you call your father lord to his face?"
"The situation was a bit… odd. Given my status as a bastard. His lady wife was not very fond of me."
"I suppose I can understand that a bit. She was bitter for something that you had no control over. A constant reminder that a person close to her had committed an atrocity and even if it wasn't your fault, she would still loathe you for it," she perfectly surmised Catelyn's attitude toward him. "I can certainly relate," she grumbled, poking at the soup in front of her.
"How?" Jon blurted out before he could stop himself. She was a high borne lady from one of the most prestigious families in all of Westeros. How could she truly understand what it was like to be a bastard?
Elaine raised herself, snapping erect as her lashes flickered downward and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I would have thought Samwell Tarly might have filled you in about why I'm not in my sister's position in King's Landing. Why I went to Dorne. Trust me Jon Snow, I understand what you went through better than anyone else except it was my own blood who spurned me. Perhaps Samwell could only speculate about what truly happened, but I'll tell you now that I did not go to Dorne of my own choice. My grandmother sent me after I was held down and fucked on my 17th name day. My father couldn't meet my eye after that, ashamed of me for something I had no control over. I was soiled, a waste of space, but his daughter nonetheless. His words meant nothing, what few he did give me.
"And the worst part about it? The knights who took everything from me didn't get justice. No, the green boy that had been their lookout was the scapegoat, but in my hysteria, how was I to know exactly which suspect it was? I had been drinking that day, so my account was muddled at best. So yes, Jon Snow, I perfectly understand what it's like to be a stranger in your own home. Whether it be my father, my siblings, or even the servants, I was scorned, people whispering behind my back as I passed."
Her gruff and blunt words left Jon at a loss. The graceful and beautiful Southron lady in front of him was frowning and she had staked her fork into the wooden table, her knuckles white from the force which she clenched it. "I didn't mean to offend you-"
"Offend me?" he'd done it now. He expected the Tyrell to rescind the decision she had made, but instead she relaxed and fell back into her chair, propping her chin on her hand as she glanced toward the window with a plain expression. "You haven't offended me, though the subject of my deflowering does rile me up. No," she sat back up and put her elbows on the table, staring openly at him. "I was just trying to point out to you Jon Snow that you seem to know nothing. At least about certain scenarios. I may not have been borne a bastard, but I became equal to one such as yourself when I was raped."
Her honesty was… rough and he tried not to flinch as she openly spoke about what happened to her. He even caught the strange wordplay, finding himself reminded of Ygritte as she told him he knew nothing. At that, his heart fluttered in his chest and he cleared his throat, wondering how the conversation might pick up from there. "You… speak of it quite brazenly."
Elaine shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Why not? It happened and I live with the consequences. I've had years to cry about it and feel sorry for myself. I see you also do not dwell on the fact that you are a bastard. Look how well you have done here as one of the youngest Lord Commanders the Night's Watch has seen. I've grown stronger from the trials I have been through, so there is no use in pretending that it never happened. Just think, if it never happened, I wouldn't be sitting here in front of you and Castle Black wouldn't be getting repairs."
Shifting uncomfortably, he said, "That doesn't mean I wish it on you just so that we could be working at this very moment."
Elaine chuckled. "No, of course not. You're quite like your father from what I hear, the honorable sort. I just wish the South had more people like you and maybe the little lordling who ravaged me would have been properly punished," she paused, cocking her head and tapping her finger on her lip. "You know, before it happened, I was engaged to Renly Baratheon… Rather lucky that things worked out as they did or else King Stannis might not like me as much."
"You've got a strange definition of luck."
"Consider it a part of my charm," she smirked before finishing her glass of wine. Her eyes turned to the window again and she let out a small yawn, covering her mouth with a dainty hand. "I shouldn't keep you all night, Lord Commander." There was a slight lilt in her voice when she addressed him by his title, as if she were mocking him playfully.
Jon stood up to help Lady Elaine to the door, offering her a hand up from her chair. Her palm was coarse, rough from the years of working a sword, and not as soft as he had been expecting. About to open the door for her, she paused to bend over and wish Ghost a good night. "Keep those schematics and think about anything you might want done specifically. Just be prepared for me to pester you about what I think might be beneficial," Elaine told him, turning her eyes up toward him as he cracked the door. Her proximity made it hard to swallow the lump in his throat.
"I expect I'll be seeing a lot of you, Lady Elaine."
"Oh don't sound so disappointed, Jon Snow," she told him cheerfully, flashing him a smile that men would kill for. "Til the morrow."
"Good night, Lady Elaine," he said before she flounced off into the night.
Only just having closed the door, Ghost stood up and seemed incredibly interested in him all of a sudden. Jon frowned at his companion and placed his hand on top of the dire wolf's head. "I didn't expect you to be so tame," he commented, running his fingers through the plush white fur.
Ghost glanced up at him with his crimson eyes, ever silent. He set his massive head on Jon's knee as he sat on the chair by the mantle. The beast seemed to always know what Jon was thinking. He sighed deeply, relaxing into the chair and staring up at the ceiling with bitterness. Perhaps in another life… things would have been different and they might have met under different circumstances… The offer from Stannis came up again. He could become a Stark, he could retake Winterfell, and then he would need a wife to produce heirs. He barely knew Elaine, but he was drawn in by her personality and her past.
Ghost licked his hand.
"Fine and her beauty," Jon grumbled, taking his other hand to place it over his face. How could the Gods curse him so? He'd been given the position of Lord Commander and now he could just grasp the life he had wanted most. Could he forsake that Wall? Especially as he knew what truly waited out there.
Before he could make a decision, a knock made him sit upright immediately. He got to his feet, wondering if Lady Elaine had forgotten an item and was returning to fetch it. Jon ran his fingers back through his hair and headed for the door, dismayed to see that it was the Red Priestess, Melisandre, and not Elaine.
"My lady," Jon said gruffly, trying to hide his disappointment.
"May I have a word, Lord Snow?" Melisandre asked in her soft, whispery voice.
Jon stepped out of her way and let her in. Sweeping by him a wave of bloody red, she glanced at the rolls of parchment that had been left by Elaine. She ran a finger over them delicately and then spun back around to face him. "What can I assist you with, my lady?" He wasn't really fond of Melisandre, but she was a trusted advisor of Stannis and he couldn't just rebuff her, even at this hour.
"Have you considered further about chasing the rats from your family's home?" Melisandre prompted.
Jon sighed, turning around to glance at the fire in the hearth. "I have," he began.
"King Stannis would reward you handsomely. He sees your value, even if many of your brothers do not. A royal pardon would absolve you of your oaths here," she crept up behind him and he could feel she was just little more than a pace away. "Name your price Jon Snow and I can convince him to give it to you."
Jon continued to stare at the fire. "No, my place is here."
Melisandre appeared not to hear him. "You would become a Stark, no longer bearing the bastard surname. Legitimate in the eyes of the realm… No, that's not what you crave," he heard papers scatter behind him and when he turned his eyes widened at Melisandre. With a simple tug, the front of her robes had opened to reveal her large supple breasts, her dark nipples hard from the chill no fire could truly chase away this far north. Her slender waist trailed down to soft, wide hips, her closed legs hiding the moist womanhood. She leaned back against his desk, causing more pieces to scatter and she opened her milky legs.
At this point Jon averted his eyes, cheeks and ears burning as the red woman tried to seduce him. "Get out," he muttered with a soft fury.
Melisandre's brows furrowed and then her mouth popped open. "Ah. You do crave it, but not from me," she strode forward in her nakedness, the open robes fluttering behind her. "I could convinced Stannis to wed the Tyrell to you, if that is what you crave. You have power in your blood and would make a fair match for her. Not exactly a fair maiden, but fair nonetheless."
Jon shuddered and slapped her hand out of the way before she could touch him. "Out," he growled, astounded that Ghost did not move against her.
Melisandre withdrew, glaring at him with her dark ruby eyes. She tied her robes back up and slithered toward the door. Before leaving she cast a scathing glance, "You know nothing, Jon Snow."