Hullo! C:

More canon stuff yay!

I really don't have much to say about this chapter. I (obviously) own nothing, except for Lyra and Jonah. But I wish I owned Jon Snow. Alas, that is not the case.

Thanks to everyone who reads/subscribes/faves and most especially, reviews! Reviews are always welcome! :'D

Ooh, also, the OC poll is now CLOSED! The winner is...Elira Manston from Queen in the North! So you might want to go check that story out c:

Thanks for voting, guys!

Enjoy the chapter!

Lyra

The two sat in silence as they stared at the landscape ahead of them. Up on top of the Wall, Lyra felt invincible. She felt as if she was taller than any man alive, even the giants. She felt like a god, watching over all the people in the land. Of course, she thought to herself, if I was a god, I wouldn't make it so bloody cold all the time.

"How do you stand it, Snow?" The girl's teeth chattered with every word. She huddled deeper into her cloak and sat closer to the fire.

"I'm from the North," Jon replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "After seventeen years of living here, you get used to it,"

"It's going to take me a lot more than seventeen years," Lyra grumbled, wringing her hands together to get rid of the numbness. At times like these, during the late watches with Jon, she wanted nothing more than to be back at Casterly Rock, in her castle, by her hearth. Her servants had always brought her her favourite drink on the chillier nights; hot chocolate with a shot of spiced wine.

A strong gust of wind brought her back to the harsh, freezing climate. She pulled her hood over her head and brought her scarf higher up on her face. She didn't turn when she heard footsteps. Lyra figured it was just Pyp trying to scare her again; usually, she was on watch duty alone- he must have thought she was alone once more. A couple nights ago, her sparring partner decided to act upon the opportunity. He came up behind her, as silent as death, and whispered her name- no, her alias' name- in her ear. She could have sworn she woke up all of Castle Black with her high pitched scream.

"Hello," Lyra almost groaned out loud. She settled for a roll of the eyes as Samwell Tarly shuffled closer to her and Jon. "Ser Alliser said I'm to be your new watch partner,"

"Tell him that we're doing just fine on our own," The Lannister snapped. She clutched her cloak tighter in her gloved hands. She always enjoyed time alone with Jon; why did Sam have to spoil it?

"I-I'm sorry," The fat boy stuttered.

"Don't listen to him," The Stark bastard told Samwell. "He doesn't get along with most people,"

"Ha, ha," Lyra's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Fuck you, too, Snow," Jon grinned at the girl.

Samwell let out a nervous chuckle and leaned against a wooden bar. "I should warn you…I don't see all that well,"

"Come stand by the fire," Snow commanded. "It's warmer,"

"No, that's alright, I'm fine," Sam mumbled.

"You're not," Jon reprimanded. "You're freezing," Stupid, pig-headed boy, The Lannister thought to herself. Looks like one and he acts like one. She heard Sam shuffle closer to her and Jon. He stopped next to her and gave her a fleeting glance. Her green eyes hardened, then flickered back to look into the flames.

"I don't like high places," Tarly admitted.

By the way Jon Snow's cheek twitched, Lyra knew that the bastard had finally snapped. "You can't fight. You can't see. You're afraid of heights, and almost everything else, probably," His grey eyes bored into Sam's. "What are you doing here, Sam?"

Samwell swallowed visibly. "On the morning of my eighteenth nameday, my father came to me," His voice shook ever so slightly. "'You're almost a man now,' he said. 'But you're not worthy of my land and title,'" Lyra slowly looked away from the flames and stared at the highborn lad. "'Tomorrow, you're going to take the Black, forsake all claims to your inheritance and start North.

"'If you do not,' he said, 'we'll have a hunt. And somewhere in these woods, your horse will stumble, and you will be thrown from your saddle to die,'" Sam took a deep breath and kept his eyes down. "'And then I'll tell your mother. Nothing would please me more,'"

Lyra gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Sam's story reminded her of when her father told her of her betrothal. "You will marry Axel Lefford, Lyra…or, I swear, you can say goodbye to your little stableboy. I never liked that one. I'll be sure to give him a slow death…I hope you can handle blood, sweetling. I'll make you watch as the life slowly drains from him."

"Ser Alliser's going to make me fight again tomorrow, isn't he?" Samwell asked, bringing Lyra back to the present. She was glad for the dark to hide her tear trail. Never would she think of Jonah and her father without feeling pain.

"Yes, he is," Jon and Lyra chorused quietly.

"I'm not going to get any better, you know!" Tarly whined.

"Well," Snow began. "You can't get any worse," His face split into a huge grin. The two boys began to laugh. The Lannister always loved the sound of Jon's laugh. She felt her heart skip a beat when the bastard's grey eyes locked with her own. She gave him a tiny shake of her head and let out a chuckle. Jon Snow, you're too good of a lad for your own good. Do you know that?

The next morning, Lyra woke up bright and early. She quickly washed up donned her thick clothing. She hadn't had a decent meal in two days, and she was not about to bring it up to a third. Jon and Sam had been kind enough to let her finish her watch earlier last night. Snow claimed that she was starting to look ill. "Thank you, Mother Snow," she'd said. "How kind of you to look out for me."

"Where have you been?" Grenn asked Jon as he made his way over to the three.

"Watch duty. With Sam," Jon explained, shrugging off his cloak. He took his regular seat next to Lyra.

"Ah, Prince Porkchop!" Pypar crowed. "Where is he?"

"He wasn't hungry," The Stark bastard pulled off his gloves.

"Impossible!" Grenn and Lyra chuckled at Pyp's remark; he reminded her so much of Jonah. Perhaps that's why she had a soft spot for the big-eared boy.

"That's enough," Snow interrupted. He grabbed a bowl of stew and a piece of bread.

"Stop being such a stick in the mud!" The Lannister girl smirked. "We're not doing any harm. Just having a little fun, is all,"

He glared at her. "Sam's no different from the rest of us. There was no place for him in the world, so he's come here," Snow seemed to hesitate for a moment. "You're not going to hurt him in the training yard anymore. Never again, no matter what Thorne says. He's our brother now, and we're going to protect him,"

"You are in love, Lord Snow!" Rast hooted. His two cohorts laughed loudly. The raper and the bastard turned around in their seats to face each other. "You girls can do as you please. But if Thorne puts me up against Lady Piggy…I'm going to slice me off a side of bacon," Rast's friends laughed again. Lyra silenced them when she stabbed the wooden table with her concealed dagger.

Lyra, Jon, Grenn and Pyp faced each other once more. The girl pulled the dagger out of the table and shoved it back into its sheath. She nodded once to Jon Snow. "No one hurts Sam."

That night, while everyone was sleeping, the four- five, including Ghost- silently made their way to Rast's chambers. Grenn and Pyp held the raper down while Jon gagged him. The direwolf sat on Rast's chest, his sharp teeth bared. Lyra slipped out her dagger and held it against the raper's throat, an innocent smile on her face.

"No one touches Sam," Jon Snow said in a deathly quiet voice. Lyra repressed a shudder; she had never seen him like this before. And, quite frankly, she never wanted to again.

Ghost growled and barked, his red eyes flashing angrily. Rast gasped as the Stark bastard took away the gag. With one final growl, the direwolf followed the four out. Lyra spared one last glance at Rast, who was panting heavily. She chuckled quietly; never fuck with Jon Snow.

"What are you waiting for?" Ser Alliser Thorne demanded, his eyes never leaving Rast. Samwell and the raper circled around each other, practice swords in hand. Sam lunged, but Rast easily blocked the blow. The sword flew right out of Tarly's hand. Jon and Lyra watched the raper expectantly. With a scowl, he let Samwell pick up his sword.

"Attack him!" Alliser yelled. Looking once back to Jon and Lyra, Rast lamely hit Sam in the arm. Angrily, the old knight pulled the raper out of the way. "You!" He pointed to Grenn. "Get in there,"

Grenn looked behind him, then turned back to Samwell. "Hit me," He whispered. Snow smiled encouragingly and Lyra nodded her head eagerly when Tarly looked over his shoulder at them. "Go on! Hit me!" Grenn ordered. Samwell hit the boy in the arm with the flat side of his sword. Dramatically, Grenn fell to the ground, howling. "Ow! Yield! Yield, yield!" Everyone in the courtyard laughed at his antics.

Everyone except Ser Alliser. He pushed and shoved his way to Jon, who he grabbed roughly by the collar. Lyra looked on in horror, resisting the urge to strike the knight. "You think this is funny, do you?" He pushed the bastard away and turned toward the other boys.

"Are you alright?" The Lannister murmured.

"I'm fine," Snow assured her.

"When you're out there, beyond the Wall, with the sun going down…do you want a man at your back? Or a sniveling boy?"

"You're a great help to us, Elias," Jon teased. He and Sam cleaned the tables while Lyra relaxed on one of the benches, a warm mug of ale in her hands.

"I did two of them by myself," She protested behind the rim of her mug. Snow's lips curled upwards at the corners.

Samwell changed the subject. "I know for a fact that some of the officers go to that brothel in Mole's Town,"

"I wouldn't doubt it," The Stark bastard agreed.

"It's hard to give up women," Lyra added. She knew that her brother, Felix, had frequented the whore houses rather often. He always said there was nothing better than a woman's cunt.

"Don't you think it's a little bit unfair?" Sam frowned. "Making us take our vows while they sneak off for a little…sally on the side?"

"Sally on the side?" Jon and Lyra laughed.

"Silly, isn't it! What, we can't defend the Wall unless we're celibate? It's absurd!"

"I didn't think you'd be so upset about it," Jon frowned.

Samwell stopped scrubbing the table and gaped at the bastard. "Why not? Because I'm fat?"

"No-"

"Look, I like girls just as much as you do," He paused for a moment. "They might not like me as much, but…" His eyes darted from Jon to Lyra. "I've never…been with one," He picked up his brush again. "You two probably had hundreds," Just one, Lyra thought to herself. Well, one person. Jonah would hardly like it if he was called a girl. The stableboy would always try and prove his manliness to her and the other girls in the town.

"No," Snow replied. "As a matter of fact," he put down the brush, "the same as you,"

Sam let out a chuckle. "Yeah. Yeah, alright. I find that hard to believe-"

"I came very close once. I was alone in a room with a naked girl, but…"

The Lannister girl took a sip of her wine as she watched the two boys. "Didn't know where to put it?" Samwell tried. Lyra's wine sprayed out of her nose when she laughed. She covered her reddening face and attempted to hide her giggles.

"I know where to put it," Jon snapped, glaring daggers at Lyra and Sam. She bit her lip to contain her laughter.

"Was she…old and ugly?" Samwell grimaced.

"Young and gorgeous," Jon smiled wistfully. He sat on the table. "A whore named Ros," Lyra felt a stab of jealousy course through her veins; she had never been called pretty before. Most people mistook her for a boy, with her hard eyes and strong jaw. Lyra Lannister was never the girl that turned heads when she walked down the streets. Her sister, Riyen, was the beauty, and had many more admirers, despite being two years younger than Lyra.

"What color hair?" Samwell pressed.

"Red,"

"Ooh, I like red hair," His cheeks flushed. "And her, um…?" He placed his hands on his chest. Lyra smiled at the fat boy.

"You don't want to know," Jon grinned.

"What, that good?"

"Better," Another wave of jealousy flooded over her; she had always thought her breasts were much too small.

"So, why exactly didn't you make love to Ros, with the perfect…?" Sam put his hands on his chest again.

"What's my name?" Jon asked after a moment of silence.

"Jon Snow," Tarly answered, obviously confused. Frankly, Lyra wasn't exactly sure where Jon was going with this, either.

"And why is my surname Snow?"

"Because…you're a bastard. From the North,"

"I never met my mother," Snow began quietly. "My father wouldn't even tell me her name. I don't know if she's living or dead. I don't know if she's a noblewoman, or a fisherman's wife…or a whore," He paused, flicking his grey eyes upward to meet Lyra's green ones. She nodded, urging him to continue. "So I sat there, in the brothel, as Ros took off her clothes. And I couldn't do it. 'Cause all I could think was…what if I got her pregnant? If she had a child? Another bastard named Snow," He hopped off the table and continued to scrub it. "It's not a good life for a child,"

Lyra frowned. Jon, you can't be serious. Enough with your damned honor all the time…just live a little.

Samwell's face cracked into a grin. "So you didn't know where to put it!" Jon threw his brush away and ran over to Sam. The two boys began pushing each other, laughing all the while.

"Get 'im, Sam!" Lyra crowed.

"Enjoying yourselves?" The girl held back a yelp as Ser Alliser Thorne came up behind her. She caught her mug just as it was about to hit the floor. She thanked the Seven that there was no more wine left in it. "Are you cold, boys?" The knight sneered as Jon and Sam resumed cleaning the tables. Lyra grabbed a spare brush and started to scrub. She felt as if Thorne's eyes were burning holes into the back of her head.

"'Tis a bit nippy," Samwell mumbled.

"A bit nippy, yeah?" Alliser raised his eyebrows. "By the fire, indoors…and it's still summer. Do you boys even remember the last winter? How long has it been now? What, ten years?" His hard eyes locked on Jon Snow.

"I remember," Snow muttered.

"Was it uncomfortable at Winterfell? On those days where you just couldn't get warm, never mind how many fires your servants built-"

Jon's cheek twitched. "I build my own fires,"

"That's admirable," Thorne glared. "I spent six months out there, beyond the Wall, during the last winter. It was supposed to be a two week mission. We heard a rumour Mance Rayder was planning to attack Eastwatch. So we went out to look for some of his men- capture them, gather some knowledge. The wildlings who fight for Mance Rayder are hard men- harder than you'll ever be. They know their country better than we do. They knew there was a storm coming in. So they hid in their caves and waited for it to pass. And we got caught in the open.

"Winds so strong it yanked hundred foot trees straight from the ground, roots and all. If you took your gloves off to find your cock to have a piss, you lost a finger to the frost. And all in darkness. You don't know cold. None of you do.

"The horses died first. We didn't have enough to feed them, to keep them warm. Eating the horses was easy. But later, when we started to fall," The knight shook his head, his eyes filled with the pain the memories brought with them. "That wasn't easy. We should have brought a few boys like you along, shouldn't we?" He walked up to Samwell, his face hardening once more. "Soft, fat boys like you. We would have lasted a fortnight on you, and still have bones left over for soup," Sam's breaths were quick and shallow. His nervousness radiated off of him in waves.

Thorne stepped away from the highborn lad and strode over to the door. "Soon, there will be new recruits. And you will be passed onto the Lord Commander for assignment. And they will call you Men of the Night's Watch. But you'll be fools to believe it. You're boys, still. And come the winter, you will die. Like flies," With one final look towards the three, he turned on his heel and walked back out into the cold air.

Lyra poured herself some more ale. She put a smile on her face and raised the cup in the air, hoping to lighten the mood. "Here's hoping we don't get assigned to Thorne," She threw her head back and drained the glass in one swig.

"Were you ever…with someone, Elias?" Samwell questioned.

She bowed her head and set the mug down on the table. "I don't like to talk about it,"

"Come on, Elias," Jon tried. "I told you about Ros,"

The girl sighed and played with a loose hem on her tunic. "It was right I was castrated. Almost a year ago. I admired one of the local girls in town for awhile," She bit her lip and felt her heart ache once again for Jonah. "On my fourteenth name day, she told me to come to her quarters. I followed her. She kissed me, and…it happened," She felt stupid for lying to them, but she couldn't tell them about Jonah, nor any other aspect of her real, true life. Even pretending to be two years younger made her feel strange.

"There," She concluded. "I told you two. Now please don't talk to me about it ever again."