Jon's first chapter.


JON I

"Welcome."

Wind whistled around his ears. It was colder here than Winterfell. They were far in the North. If they went farther than that, they would no longer be in the North. And here he stood, Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell, looking at his future. Solid ice that stretched to both sides at the horizon, seven hundred feet tall. Ice and rock. Nothing more. That was all. It was only ice, and yet it was impressive. The First Men built it to protect the North from the White Walkers. Jon wondered how they did.

There were clouds that reached the top of it. The space between them and the Wall was empty, only snow and earth. There was only the Kingsroad, roughly shaped and leading to Castle Black. Jon could see smoke coming from, and something that looked like a ladder from its base to the top of the wall. It had to be the winch elevator his uncle told him about and that allowed to take men and supplies from Castle Black to the top of the Wall.

"Well, I read Wonders Made by Man by Lomas Longstrider, and he included the Wall among his nine wonders. He doesn't do it justice enough."

Tyrion Lannister stood on his horse next to Jon and his uncle Benjen. He looked quite impressed as well. Jon spent a lot of time with him during the last weeks, talking and drinking around campfires. He also spent some time with the forty men the Lord of Casterly Rock had brought with him. They were much better company than the men Yoren had brought and who would soon be his sworn brothers. As for the Lord of Casterly Rock, Jon had gotten used to his arrogant attitude and insulting manners. The good thing with the Imp is that he allowed people to insult him as well, so Jon could tell the great lord whatever he thought about him, and all he would do was smile and laugh. That made him feel well, to be able to say whatever went through his mind, pleasant or not. Sometimes, Lord Tyrion would only sit by the fire and read, and Jon would just sit around saying nothing, and the little lord wouldn't mind his presence. When Jon asked him why he read so much, he answered that his brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, had his sword, and that he had his mind, and that a mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone.

Most of their travelling party was made of men in crimson armor, with the golden lion on them. Tyrion Lannister had come with a part of his men. Jon, his uncle Benjen, Ghost, Yoren and four more recruits made the rest of their company. When Jon looked at the men who came to join the Night's Watch, and to those who only came to visit it, he thought the roles should have been reversed. The knights of the Westerlands would be much more useful to the Watch than the rapers and poachers Yoren brought.

They moved forward along the Kingsroad they barely discern. As they approached, Jon realized how tall the Wall really was. The highest towers of Winterfell were like dwarves in comparison, and Castle Black was no better. Jon knew there were nineteen castles along the Wall, but that only three of them were manned right now: Castle Black, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Shadow Tower. Castle Black was the main one, where the new recruits were trained and were the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch lived. Jeor Mormont was the actual 997th Lord Commander. Formerly Lord of Bear Island, he had abdicated his seat to join the Night's Watch and let his son Jorah rule in his stead. His father had once talked to Jon about Ser Jorah Mormont. He sold poachers to slave traders, then ran away to Essos instead of facing his father's justice. However, Jon's lord father always spoke highly of the Lord Commander.

The gates opened before them and they arrived in a frozen courtyard. There were few sections of Winterfell that were in ruins, like the broken tower from where Bran fell, but Castle Black, from its appearance inside, looked half in ruins. His uncle Benjen told him that they lacked men. It seems he was right. There weren't many people in the courtyard. It was far less busy than Winterfell. At the center of it, half a dozen men were waiting for them, all wearing black. The one in the middle of them, a burly and tall man white of hair and beard, with a heavier cloak, marched towards them as they dismounted.

"Welcome back, Benjen." He and his uncle clasped their arms. Then the old man turned to Yoren. "What have you brought us, my brother?"

"Two rapists, two poachers, and Benjen's nephew. Five new recruits all in all."

Jon felt the gaze of the Lord Commander wandering on him for a few seconds. He stepped forward and faced them all. "Welcome to Castle Black. Here, it doesn't matter who you were before. You're beginning a new life, free from everything you've done before. Don't expect it to be easy, but you'll find your place. The Night's Watch has a place for everybody." He turned to the recruiter. "Yoren, bring these lads to the barracks and settle them. Then report them to Ser Alliser Thorne so their training may begin."

Yoren nodded. "Come, everyone."

Jon followed, bringing what few belongings he had with him. From behind, he heard the Lord Commander welcome the Warden of the West.

"Lord Lannister."

"Lord Commander Mormont."

"Welcome to Castle Black." Jon, looking over his shoulder, saw them shaking hands.

"Normally, when an important lord comes, he has a bigger welcoming party waiting for him."

"I'm sorry, but here we can't allow it. Our men are quite busy."

"No matter. I'm not that important, and I merely made an observation, not a reproach."

Jon didn't hear more since he entered the barracks at this moment. It was a huge building filled with beds and couches, all identical. Things were thrown all over the floor, and it smelled from hundreds of men who never bathed. Jon knew a sister who would hate this place, and another one who would love it. This brought a sour smile upon his face.

"Look who's here," Yoren said loudly. Three men who were already inside stood up immediately. "Get back to work before I tell the Lord Commander." The three men left immediately without discussion. "Find yourself an unoccupied couch and make sure to place anything valuable somewhere no one will think looking into. Then go back into the yard with Ser Alliser. He's impossible to miss."

The others did so, and Jon followed them. He didn't have much. Mostly, he only had his sword. That was the only valuable thing he had on him. He found a couch that seemed to belong to no one in the back of the room and placed what few things he had with him there, including his cloak. This way he would remember where it was. Jon wasn't used to sleep with others. He had his own room in Winterfell. He would have to get used to it. There were worse things in the world. If that's what the Night's Watch is, that's what it is. He said the same to Lord Tyrion on the road when he told him the Watch was a place of exile for sullen peasants, debtors, poachers, rapers, thieves, bastards and fourth-born sons. That's good, bastard. Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it. The words he told him on the road kept playing back in his head. Jon tried to accept the situation. It could be worse. Here, he could start anew. He was no one. The fact he was a bastard didn't matter here.

When he got back into the courtyard, Jon almost heard his name immediately. "You there, bastard! Come, and quickly!"

Jon looked at the man who called after him. He was wearing black him too, had short hair and seemed around his forties. Some recruits were with him, and other men too. Jon supposed this had to be Ser Alliser Thorne.

"Slow, aren't you, Lord Snow," he said, full of disdain. "Well, you'll have to learn to be quicker here. This is not your father's castle where your food is being brought by a fair maid. Welcome to the real world. All of you, go to the armory and see that Noye gives you blunted swords and armors of your size. Get on, now."

Jon gritted his teeth. He had barely arrived after the others, and there was even someone else who came after him. He was always here at time when they had lessons with Ser Rodrik at Winterfell, and he was a better sword than Robb and almost everyone else there. Jon would show the knight how slow he was. He would have to change his mind.

Jon came back before all the others, and the welcome Ser Alliser reserved for him was as warm as before. "Well, you learn quickly, I have to give you that, but don't expect any special treatment." When all the recruits were here, they began the training. "All right. Grenn, Pyp, show them."

They watched as two men of Jon's age sparred. Jon looked around and saw the recruits were mostly very young, but some of them were older. He supposed they were all in training and that those who didn't travel with him on the Kingsroad were probably recruits who arrived not long before him. He watched Grenn and Pyp fight each other. Grenn was immobile. It was as if he had his two feet stuck into stone. As for Pyp, he made a lot of useless movements. Both would be too easy to defeat, or to kill. They didn't even hold their swords properly. They wouldn't stand a chance against a trained knight.

"That's enough," Ser Alliser said after a moment. "As you probably can't see, they're useless. My job is to make you useful before you die, so you better listen and do what I tell you to do. You two, show me how you can fight."

The two rapers stepped forward and began to spar as well, holding their weapons in a clumsier way than the previous ones. It went on like that for some time, two of them fighting while the others watched. None knew how to fight. Jon saw that the Lord Commander and Lord Lannister were both looking at them from afar. He was eager to fight, to prove himself before everyone's eyes, but Ser Alliser never called him.

The one called Pyp just defeated a poacher when his name was finally called. "All right. Now it's the time to see how worthless the bastard is. In place, Lord Snow. Grenn, show him what you farm boys are made of."

Jon had noticed how Grenn barely moved. He tried to end a battle with one or two powerful blows all the time. Jon let him attack. He ducked the first swing easily, and when his opponent, unbalanced, tried another blow, he diverted it without effort, he hit him in the stomach with the fist holding his sword, then swung his sword in a lateral movement. Grenn's hand covered his face, blood spurting out of his nose. He turned away, using his sword as a stick to keep himself on foot.

"If that were a real sword, you'd be dead," the knight sarcastically commented. "Lord Snow here grew up in a castle spitting down on the likes of you. Pyp. Do you think Ned Stark's bastard bleeds like the rest of us?"

Pyp stepped forward. He was much slimmer than Grenn. The fact he tried to use speed to his advantage showed he wasn't completely a fool, since he was more likely to win with swiftness than with brute force, but he didn't know how to use this speed. Worse than all, he warned Jon of his intention to attack with a shout. Jon only had to back down a little to avert the swing, then he dove the blunted sword forward right in the man's chest. If it had been a real sword, the pointy end would have pierced through his heart. He thought about Arya and the thin sword he gave her.

"Next!" Ser Alliser shouted as Pyp was coughing on the ground. His opponent could only try to reach him three times before Jon took him by the shoulder and sent him rolling away on the ground.

The next opponent was one of the rapers. Jon blocked his attacks easily. Why did they all shout when they attacked? It made it too easy to predict their movements. The other raper tried to attack him from behind, so Jon stepped aside and the two rapers' swords met. Jon then set them out, one with a kick in the belly, the other one with a fist in the face.

Jon looked at Ser Alliser Thorne who cocked his head. "Well, Lord Snow, it appears you're the least useless person here. Go clean yourselves up! There's only so much I can stomach in a day."

Jon walked away furiously. He had just defeated easily five men, and all he got was to be told he was less useless than the others. He didn't look around as he went to the armory to put back into place his practice armor and the blunted sword. In the armory, as he was about to give back the sword, someone called him over his shoulder.

"You broke my nose, bastard!"

In Winterfell, very few called him that way. He was known by everyone as the bastard of Winterfell, but even Lady Stark was too much polite to call him that way, at least in public. Even Sansa always called him my half-brother. He ha gotten used to being called that way by the Lord of Casterly Rock, but he had understood after some time that Lord Tyrion only did that to make him accept who he was, or even as a joke sometimes. He didn't mean it as an insult. I merely made an observation, not a reproach. However, the way the others used this name here was clearly meant as an insult and to hurt, and he hated that. Jon put roughly the sword into its place and turned to face the one who called after him. He was the one with the bleeding noise. He was in no mood for more insults today, and the last weeks had made him used to say everything he thought loudly.

"It's an improvement."

In no time, he found himself hands tied behind his back and a dagger on his throat. He doubted it had blunted edges. One of the rapers was holding his hands into place. He tried to get free, to no avail. His heartbeat quickened.

"If we threw you over the Wall, I wonder how long it would take you to hit," the one bleeding said.

"I wonder if they'd find you before the wolves did," the slim one, Pyp, said.

Where was Ghost when he needed him? The door opened behind and a small shape appeared in the frame.

"What're you looking at, half man?" The raper said that.

"I'm looking at you, and so are my friends." The Lord of Casterly Rock whistled and the door burst open. Jon could see at least four men fully armed behind him. "You know that speaking like that to a lord would mean death in most cases. But you're lucky, I don't pay attention to that. Instead, I make sure every raper is gelded before I send them to the Wall. Have you been gelded?"

Even if he only saw half of his face from where he was, Jon noticed how the man had blanched hearing this. He released Jon, and Grenn followed.

"You have very distinctive faces," the small lord resumed. "All of you. I think they would look marvelous, decorating spikes at Casterly Rock. Or I can still arrange for them to be in Lannisport or King's Landing, or Highgarden. Which would you prefer?"

They all abandoned. The raper left with a tail between his legs. Lord Tyrion's men let him go, but Jon heard him stumble once outside.

"We'll talk later, Lord Snow," Grenn said, threatening.

He and Grenn went to remove their combat garb. Jon leaned against the support of the swords. It was close. He had never been so happy to see the Lord of Casterly Rock. The little man approached, his face even, but Jon couldn't care less at the moment.

"Everybody knew what this place was and no one told me," Jon said. "No one but you. My father knew and he left me to rot at the Wall all the same."

"Grenn's father left him too," Lord Tyrion said, looking at the man in question. "Outside a farmhouse when he was three." So Grenn was no recruit. "Pyp was caught steeling a wheel of cheese. His little sister hadn't eaten in three days. He was given a choice: his right hand or the Wall. I've been asking the Lord Commander about them. Fascinating stories."

He looked at Jon as if he reproached him something this time. "They hate me because I'm better than they are," Jon burst. He remembered Lady Stark always looking at him with disapproval whenever he did something better than Robb. All that because he was a bastard.

"It's a lucky thing none of them were trained by a master-at-arms like your Ser Rodrik. I don't imagine any of them have ever held a real sword before they came here."

The Lord's eyes were hard as they looked at him, but they changed to something like pity when he turned to Grenn and Pyp. Jon felt it wasn't fair, considering they were the ones who were ready to kill him just a moment ago, but at the same time he felt wrong for what he just did. He took pleasure at beating them. It made him proud, gave him the impression he was finally better than other people, even if he was a bastard.

The Lord of Castely Rock turned on his heels, but before he was at the door he looked back at Jon. "Oh. Your brother Bran. He's woken up."

Then he walked away after Jon seized the raven scroll he handed him. He untied the thread that kept it closed and read what was written inside. Bran had indeed woken up. That was almost enough to erase everything that went wrong today. His little brother was alive.

"Don't think you'll smile for long, bastard." Green said that as he left the armory and Pyp followed him.

That evening, the common hall was crowded, but despite this Jon felt like he was alone in an empty room. His uncle and Lord Tyrion were eating at the high table with the Lord Commander and the other officers of the Night's Watch. He, the bastard of Winterfell, was away from everyone else. He ate the venison that was prepared by the cook, a man everyone called Three-Finger Hobb, without tasting it. The Night's Watch wasn't at all what he expected it to be. Your brother Robb gets Winterfell and you get the Wall. And your father… he must have good reasons for packing you off to the Night's Watch. He hadn't wanted to listen to Lord Tyrion at the time, but he saw more truth in his words than there were in his father's. There's great honor serving in the Night's Watch. You are a Stark. You might not have my name, but you have my blood. For all the good it made. Having his father's blood caused him more problems than anything else. Lady Stark would have ignored him instead of despising him if he had been the cook's son.

"All alone." His uncle came and sat next to him. "Not joining your brothers. Well, they're not your brothers yet, but they will be soon."

"I don't think they want to see me, let alone speak to me."

"Really? Or is that you who doesn't want to see them?" Jon looked back at his uncle. "You don't make it easy for them. Ser Alliser told me what happened at the training, and Noye told me about the accident in the armory."

"Ser Alliser is a prick."

His uncle gave a humorless chuckle. "Maybe, but don't say that again, especially not in his presence. The man is hard, but he's served here for as long as me, and he's loyal to the Watch. Come back in fifteen years, when you've spent as much time here as he did and went as often beyond the Wall, and then we'll see who's the prick. Those men will be your brothers soon. Either you're ready to be killed for them, or you're killed by them."

He patted Jon's shoulder and left him. Jon barely caught his smile. Ghost rubbed against his leg. He decided he wasn't hungry and gave his bowl to his friend who licked it until it was empty. His father was wrong. He wasn't a Stark. His brothers and sisters' wolves had been found together near their mother, while his own was apart, all alone. The white wolf. The lone wolf.

Jon stood and went to the door. It was already dark outside, and snow was falling. It was much colder than Winterfell. He didn't want to imagine how it was for the Lord of Casterly Rock, used as he was to hot weather. He thought about that as he walked to the barracks and was called by the very man he was thinking about.

"Going to sleep already?"

Jon turned to face him. "Aye, what's the problem?"

"None. I just wondered if you'd like to see the top of the Wall. I'm going there, and I hate to see things alone."

"I've not been ordered to guard the Wall yet," Jon retorted. He only wanted to be alone.

"You don't have to receive orders. You're my guest. I can go wherever I want in Castle Black, with whoever I want."

Tired of trying to find a way out, Jon accepted. He didn't see why the Imp wanted him for company. He wasn't a good one right now, and he already had a quarter of his guards with him. That was more than enough company for Jon's taste. Still, he followed them to the winch elevator. They were about ten to enter it, which meant they fully packed it. Jon had to tell Ghost to stay behind.

"So, enjoying your new life as a sworn brother of the Night's Watch?" Jon didn't answer to the question. "I see you do. Daren, you had a brother who went to the Wall a few years ago, didn't he?"

"Yes, my lord," one of his men answered.

"He wanted to serve the Realm, find honor, or was it something else?"

"He was given a choice between the headsman or the Wall."

"For what crime?"

"He stole a chicken leg from Lord Tywin's personal store while he accompanied him on some trip."

"A horrible crime." It was obvious from the tone that the Lord of Casterly Rock didn't think so. "My father must have been in a very good mood to give him the choice. Is he still serving here?"

"He died on his first journey north of the Wall, my lord." The man called Daren kept his voice even, but Jon could feel the regret behind it.

"All that for a chicken leg. I suppose there are worst crimes. Like being a bastard. Wouldn't you agree, Snow?"

Jon gave no answer. The cage was moving slowly, creaking all the way upward. They finally reached the top. The wind was strong there, and it was colder than below. One of the men opened the cage.

"You may stay here," Lord Tyrion said to his guards. "I think I'm safe enough with the bastard of Winterfell. He proved times again today that he was capable of defeating anyone here."

So they went forward, the dwarf and the bastard. The Lord of Casterly Rock was wrapped so heavily in furs that he looked twice the seize he was.

"Do you want to try them all at the same time?" the lord asked after they walked a certain distance.

"What?"

"If you want to prove yourself, I'm sure that defeating single-handedly ten knights of the Westerlands would prove your worth in the face of everybody. Perhaps your new brothers would appreciate you better, knowing you kicked some southern asses."

"No one would see it here," Jon said with gloom.

"No, but they saw you beat down everyone else."

"For what good it did."

"Did you really expect the Lord Commander would come and shake your hand after that? Or that the one with with a broken nose would hug you? Especially after you were the one to break his nose? That your uncle would congratulate you as the possible future First Ranger?" Jon wasn't unhappy that someone finally acknowledged he could climb high in the Night's Watch. "Do you think you'll live long enough for that day to come if you behave that way?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I'd try to make sure I survive, if I were you. Life is full of possibilities. Death is so final."

"You told me to not care what the others think of me."

"I never said that. We can't ignore their japes, or their mockeries. All we can do is learn to live with them, and make these japes ours."

"That's easy to say for you. People don't jape about you." No one ever mocked Jon's lord father, and no one would ever mock his brother Robb. Lord Tyrion was the only one to do that.

"If you think so, then you know nothing, Jon Snow. They might not jape or mock me in my face, especially since my father died, but they do it in my back, when I'm not listening or not looking. It's the same for my brother. Do you think my brother Jaime likes it, to be called the Kingslayer all the time? We're all an object of mockery, bastard. And the fact my father died changed nothing. If there's something after death, then I know my father thinks of me nothing different than before. I was always a bastard in his eyes, and I'll always be a bastard for him, even in death."

The two bastards went on, keeping their cloaks tight around them. They came at an observation point, and for the first time Jon saw the north of the Wall. The moon was full and the Wall reflected it, so they could see far away before them. It was nothing particular, trees, forests, a frozen lake there and there, and barren lands closer to the Wall. But this was the world beyond the Wall, and from there, it had a beauty like Jon couldn't describe it.

"Here it is, the lands of grumkins and snarks, White Walkers, giants and wildlings. Doesn't look that terrifying from there. The view is very good, and we stand taller than everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms."

"I stand taller than you even here," replied Jon. They both laughed. "I thought you didn't believe in snarks and grumkins."

"I don't. But I was your age once. I dreamed of having a dragon of my own, back then."

"You did?" Jon asked, suspicious.

"Oh, yes. Even a stunted, twisted, ugly little boy can look down over the world when he's seated on a dragon's back. I used to start fires in the bowels of Casterly Rock and stare at the flames for hours, pretending they were dragonfire." Jon listened carefully to Lord Tyrion's words. How could he…? "Sometimes I'd imagine my father burning. At other times, my sister. Don't look at me that way, bastard. I know your secret. You've dreamt the same kind of dreams."

"No," Jon denied, horrified. "I would never…"

"Never? Well, no doubt the Starks have been terribly good to you. I'm certain Lady Stark treated you as if you were one of her own. And that your sister, our future queen, always saw you as her brother…"

"Stop it!"

He couldn't hear more about it. That was more than enough. Lady Stark had never been kind with him, but Jon never expected her to see him like her son. He wasn't her son. She could have been much worse. She was never cruel, and neither Sansa was. He was always very close to Arya, and Bran and Rickon never saw him differently than Robb. As for his father, he took care of him, even if he made sure to not give him more time than to Jon's brothers and sisters. He never dreamed to see any of them burning. He made other dreams, but never that kind of dreams.

"Do you know what everyone here at Castle Black has in common with us?" the Imp asked all of a sudden.

Jon thought about it for a moment, but couldn't come up with an answer. "I don't know."

"Some of them are rapists and murderers. They were punished for their crimes, but many others are poachers or thieves who had nothing to eat, or orphans with no family, or bastards and fourth sons who have no other way to gain honor. They ended at the Wall because there was no place in the world for them. Do you think Pyp or Grenn chose who they were, anymore than you?"

Jon was at a loss of words. Before he could say anything or think further about it, the Lord of Casterly Rock resumed. "Still, even if there was no place in the world for us, we were quite lucky. We had a roof over our heads, our fathers were powerful, we grew up surrounded by wetnurses, master-at-arms, maesters, servants, squires and cooks. Most of the people here didn't have this chance. When they look at us, they envy us, and they fear us, and they hate us. Especially if we make them think we are better than them. How many of these men do you think were sent to the Wall by your father, or by one of his bannermen? And for what? For a wheel of cheese, a chicken leg, or a loaf of bread. Do you think Daren's brother deserved to die this way, this far north, away from all those he loved?"

"No," Jon answered after a moment.

"No, and that's the same for almost every man here. I sent some here myself. Mainly rapers and murderers, but still. I have to take precautions." Now Jon understood better why Tyrion Lannister went everywhere with so many guardsmen. "Here at the Wall, it doesn't matter who your father is. All these men will hate you if you give them reasons to hate you. So give them reasons to value you instead, and they won't want you dead."

"How? They already want me dead."

"Things can change. You'll find something. We all have something to offer to the others."

They stood there, watching the white landscape that laid below them, the icy wind getting into their lungs and freezing the air they expired as it left their mouths. They stood there, side by side, the bastard of Winterfell and the Imp of Casterly Rock. It was strange to think this way about one of the most powerful lords of the Realm, but that was the way Jon thought about him after weeks spent in his company.

"Your family is right," Lord Tyrion said. "Winter is coming." On that, they could agree without any debate.


This chapter uses a lot of material from the show when Jon arrives at the Wall. It is more of an introduction to Jon's character, and his second chapter will be much more interesting.

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Next chapter : Eddard