*A/N:I am so sorry this has taken so long. Happy Holidays! As always, thank you to those that have stuck with me.
The Wall
10 Years Ago…
JON
As the evening sun dipped down, disappearing for slumber below the horizon, brilliant colors of gold and orange filled the sky. A thick blanket of snow shined in the light. It was quiet this evening - not even the wind blew - and, for just a brief moment, all was at peace.
Though, not for Jon Snow. He stood at the edge of the wall. Dark grey eyes, narrow in concentration, peered across the horizon as the last few moments of light left the world, searching.
It was strange, to have been to the other side and then return. To walk among Castle Black with Wildlings and Sworn Brothers staring at him in awe, as if he were something marvelous and terrifying. And all the while, Jon could think of nothing but of the endless black that consumed him.
Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing but darkness and cold. A chill went through him.
There was no point in anything he did. The battles he fought, the allies he made. The enemies he faced. Serving the Night's Watch - serving the country - in ways he thought were righteous and true. His vows had been to protect the realms of men. And so he tried.
And he was stabbed for it.
For some members of the Night's Watch, Jon's honor to save both Wildlings and those South of the Wall was treasonous. The Wildlings had been the enemy of the Night's Watch for thousands of years. The Wildlings were not to be trusted - the monsters would surely murder every Sworn Brother as soon as the chance rose. The Wildlings will rape and pillage throughout the North. Mance Rayder was a deserter. The Lord Commander was a Wildling dressed in black.
None of it had mattered. For in the end, the darkness wins. I should not live.
Snow and snow and snow lay before him. A blanket of white, untouched and perfect, stretching miles beyond what Jon could see. The true North, the Wildlings had called it. And Jon agreed. He had thought he'd known the North when he was still a boy at Winterfell.
A fool then. Jon frowned. A fool now. But I know the North better than anyone South of the Wall now. It was true. The North was raw and unforgiving, acting angry and beautiful at once. When the snow falls day and night, and the ice is hard as new steel. When the wind blows sharp and mean. When the furs a man wears is nothing against the cold. When he looks out before him, seeing no village or camps he could turn to for rescue. And all seems lost upon a plain of white. That was the North.
And still, the raw, bitter chill of the North was nothing compared to the dark of death
"Oy, you listenin'?" Dolorous Edd nudged him. "Been fuckin' gloomy all day. 'Course, bein' murdered'll probably do that to a man."
Jon blinked and met his friend's eyes. He said nothing, but stared at Edd for a few minutes as the other man knitted his eyebrows in confusion.
"What's that look you've got…?"
A half smile reached Jon's lips and he clasped Edd on the shoulder. "I'm leaving. I've got to go with Val to speak with Tormund Giantsbane. The Wall is yours."
Edd snorted, "The Hell it is!" He shrugged Jon's hand off his shoulder. "You a deserter now? Becomin' a Wildling?"
"I died, Edd!" Jon barked, harsher than he intended. But if anything, Eddison Tollett was a harsh man. And shouting did not phase him. "I gave my life for the Night's Watch, and my own men betrayed me."
Earlier, Jon had stood watching those same men - traitors - hang to death. Ser Alliser Thorne and the others. Men he had come to call brothers. Men he ate with, fought beside, held conversations, and commanded. These men, their necks wrapped in rope, bodies twitching and turning blue from suffocation, who had betrayed him. Called him a traitor, and plotted his demise in the shadows of Castle Black.
He'd stopped before Olly, his steward, and stared up at the lifeless boy. Glazed, hollow eyes, blue and purple puffed face, and a slack jaw. Just as the other five. Perhaps he'd always been one of them. And I put faith in foolishness.
He had looked upon every face. Each pale and lifeless, with tongues hanging out and glossy inert eyes. He studied them for long measured moments. Searching for something in them and receiving nothing. Only dead, empty eyes stared back.
"You can't leave." Edd frowned. "You're the Lord Commander. You're supposed to lead."
"Aye," Jon nodded, looking down at his feet. "I did. And I died for it." He brought his dark eyes back to his friend. "My Watch has ended, Edd. And," he sighed. "And there is a larger threat coming, for a greater war. And I - we - need to be ready for it."
"And how can the Night's Watch do that without our Lord Commander here?!"
Jon placed his hand on Edd's shoulder, gripping it firmly and eyeing him levely. "You can lead." He said it with belief, and when Eddison tried to shrug him off again, Jon didn't let go. "I need you to step up, Edd. You know what's coming for us. You've fought against them, same as I. And I know you can lead your brothers against our enemies."
The frown on Edd's face deepened. "Sounds like you're not coming back."
Jon shook his head, "I might not. I don't know where my life - my new life - will go. But, I know I have to help these people. I have to help Val and the Wildlings. Mance was right - if we leave them beyond the Wall, they will die and join the army of the undead against us. We need the North and the North needs us."
"You're sure about this?'
Jon shrugged, releasing his friend's shoulder. "I have to try. For all our lives. And to do that, I need you - someone I trust - here, commanding the Night's Watch and preparing for what's to come."
Edd dropped his shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. When he looked at Jon again, it was if the weight of the world rested up on his shoulders. "Alright," he nodded. Long seconds passed as his agreement and the responsibility it bared became reality. He stood up taller, fuller, chin held high. A different man. "I'll do it."
As soon as he rounded the corner, Jon could hear the shouts coming from Val's chambers. "Seven Hells," he grumbled as he hurried to the door. He found it unlocked and a jolt of his nerves sent him swearing again. I told her to keep it barred!
Suddenly, a loud CRASH! and shrilled shriek of "Get out!" sent Jon pushing through the great heavy barrier and into the room. His boots crunched against what must have been a water basin that'd been thrown across the room and struck the door.
Before him stood Melisandre, her back to him. She held her arms crossed, with her hands hidden in the oversized sleeves of her red robe, as she stared across the room at Val. She made no acknowledgement of Jon, but he knew she was aware of his presence. She was always aware.
She shouldn't be in here, Jon frowned. No one is allowed in here.
He looked to Val, concerned written in his eyes. She stood near the window, pale and spooked. She held her dagger tightly in her grip, her knuckles turning white. Her soft grey eyes were wide as she stared wildly at the Red Woman. Ghost stood next to Val's hip, growling.
"What's going on?" Jon demanded, voice tired and low.
Val glanced him, but kept pointed her dagger at Melisandre. "Get her away from me, now!"
"It's alright," he said calmly. He slowly raised his hands in surrender - an offer of peace - and moved passed the Red Woman towards Val. "Put down your blade."
Val shook her head. "Not until she leaves."
Jon offered her a small, reassuring smile as he came to stand before her. "She won't do anything. Not while I'm here."
"I did not come to hurt you, Princess." Melisandre softly confirmed. Her low, sultry voice sent a shiver down Jon's spine. "I simply came to warn you."
Val glared, looking passed Jon's body to see the unwelcomed other woman. "Lies!" She growled. "You came to slit - "
"You will die if you go with him." Melisandre continued.
Jon snapped his look to Melisandre. His brow furrowed in confusion and anger. "What do you mean?"
"I have seen it in the flames, Your Grace." She dipped her head in courtesy. Jon flinched at the title, hating her assumptions of him. "I have seen all. She will die. As surely as the sun rises each day."
Jon looked at Val. She stood rigid, her eyes sharp and angry; her jaw set as if made of stone. She held her knife steady in her grasp, still pointed at the Red Woman. "I won't." Her voice did not waver. Ghost growled lowly and barred his teeth as if to concur.
Melisandre looked unfazed. "You will."
"Tell us how," Jon interjected. His face was hard, and he gave the Red Woman a look of solid command.
She obeyed, and dipped her head again. "It is uncertain how, my King. The flames have shown me very little. But," her eyes raised to meet Val's. "You are always dead. Mangled and bloody, with no one near for comfort or help in your final moments. I - " she looked down again. "I see no more than that. I cannot see more. The Lord of Light will only show what he sees fit."
Jon frowned, his fists clenching tightly. "You've seen Val's death. But you cannot say how it comes to be?" He would protect the Wildling woman, he quietly swore. She was going to rule and command the Free Folk in the greatest war to come. She will need an ally to help her in the South. A friend to guide her through unknown territories and defend her when enemies come.
A...companion, he thought. And then quickly. For travel.
Melisandre looked down. "I cannot see yet, my King. The Lord of Light may give me more visions as time goes on. I cannot -"
"How did you know of our plan?" Val interrupted suddenly. Jon looked at her, taking in how she stood, no longer afraid. "Did you see that in your flames as well?"
The Red Woman nodded. "I did."
"And what happens? Does Tormund Giantsbane agree with the Lord Commander and I? Does he follow and execute our plan appropriately?" Val tilted her head, furrowed her brow in curiosity. "Or does he deny us? And declare me traitor to align with a Southern - a Crow? Is that how I die? At the hands of one of my own?"
"I cannot say, Princess." Melisandre remained still and unmoving. The red of her iris' seemed to flare as she held her gaze on Val, challenging the blonde woman.
Val narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here?"
"I've come to warn -"
"Yes, you've said that." Val waved her hand dismissively . "What do you really want?"
Melisandre raised her chin and eyed the younger woman evenly. She said nothing at first, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips - the look filling Jon with unease. "You are clever," she finally said. "Far more than your fellow Wildlings. And you speak so…" She trailed off, letting the other two ponder at what she may say next. "Accordingly. Such a difference from the others." She stepped closer, her smugness growing as she drew near Val. "I wonder, Princess. Where is it you learned such skill? Wildlings have never been known for their proper grammar and speech. I -"
"That's enough," Jon snarled, once again stepping between the women and effectively shielding Val. "Tell us what you want and begone."
The Red Woman blinked at Jon's harsh tone. She nodded immediately, "I came to ask to join you, my King. I wish to serve you on your journey to defeat the Night's King."
"Kill me yourself, more like." Val muttered behind him.
Jon shook his head. "You would not do well in the North. Your god is not welcomed."
"There are many places The Lord of Light is not welcomed, my King." Melisandre answered. "But, I am his instrument and must do as bid."
"It could end in your death," He tried.
"I have seen my death, Jon Snow." Those red eyes bore into his. "And it is not at the hands of Wildlings."
"I wasn't talking about Wildlings!" Jon snapped. Ghost barked, his hackles raised and red eyes glaring deathly.
Melisandre remained silent, waiting.
He sighed, shook his head and closed his eyes in frustration. With restraint, he muttered, "Even if I command you not to come, you will anyway. I know this, and you know this." He opened his eyes, unable to read the expression he met.
"I serve R'hllor, Your Grace. He commands that I go."
Jon ran a hand over his face, clearly agitated at the turn. He frowned at the Red Woman. A brief moment passed before he spoke again, his voice low, threatening, and dark. "You come with us and you will obey me.You understand that? You will be kept under close watch and only allowed certain freedoms."
"My King," She tried.
"You are not trusted, Melisandre." Jon growled the words, while Ghost snarled and snapped. "If you step out of line once, you will die. If you come near Val again, you will die." A chill went through the room. "Your Lord of Light commands you to serve the 'greater good'? He has sent you Azor Azhai through me?" He ignored Val's questioning look.
"Yes, my King," Melisandre nodded. "You are The Prince That Was Promised."
Steeled eyes so dark, so sharp glared back at her. "Then obey me. And when this is done, I will spare your life and turn you away."
"Your Grace - "
"We leave at first light." He turned from her, finished with her presence. "Now go."
Pursing her lips, the Red Woman stared at Jon's back to her before tightly answering, "Yes, my King." She dipped her head in courtesy and turned on her heel to quickly leave the chambers.
The room grew still and quiet as the reality of what had happened sunk in. Jon caught Val's gaze and frowned. She looked away from him and gently placed her dagger on the table beneath her window.
Jon clenched his shaking hands in an attempt to calm the anger spreading through him. The same repeating thought played through his mind. She's going to die because of me. He glanced up at Val again, but she still avoided his eyes. She's going to die because of me. Everything I do is damned, he cursed himself. Yet, I...
"Jon," She started, and he snapped his head up again. She looked...nervous. She chewed her bottom lip, unknowing that the small act made her look vulnerable and utterly desirable all at once. Absentmindedly, she held a hand on top of Ghost's snowy white head. An act to steady her anxiety. An act Jon had performed nearly everyday since finding his direwolf. "I…" She struggled. "I -"
He held up his hand to stop her. "I will not let you die."
"That's not -"
"I will not let you die." His voice was steady, a devotion rather than mere words. "Whatever we are about to face, and whoever comes our way, I swear - " He pulled out Longclaw from its sheath and bent at the knee, laying his sword at Val's feet.
"What are you doing?" Val took a step back, uncertain of his actions.
Jon stifled a chuckle at her ambiguity and dipped his head down, to show respect. The Wildlings did not believe in bending the knee. And she surely thought him foolish at the moment. But regardless of that, Jon knew that for their plan to work this was an Oath he had to make and, truly, one he wanted to make to her.
Calmly, he continued. "By the Old Gods and the New, I will protect you and aid you in your battles against the Others. My sword is yours and will be," He glanced up, Val's shining eyes meeting his. "Until my death."
Next Chapter: Yara
