Chapter 10: The Dragon on the Wall
His father imprisoned, King Robert's dead, and Robb marches south. All these things were running on Jon's mind until he saw a dead man walk. Those blue eyes haunted his nightmares. The mere thought of an army of them made him shake. All the tales of the Long Night, Old Nan told them as children were true. The others, walking dead men, ice spiders as big as hounds, snowfall hundreds of feet deep, all of it true.
"Are you well, Snow?" Jeor Mormont asked returning the bastard to reality.
"Well?" His raven repeated with a squawk, "Well?"
Jon cleared his throat, "I am fine." He lied quickly, "And you?"
"A dead man tried to kill me. How well could I be?" The Commander replied scratching his beard. "You do not look well. How is your hand?"
Jon burned his arm when he grabbed an oil lantern he used to kill the wight, "Healing." He flexed his hand. The bandages wrapped around his fingers to his elbow. At the time the pain wasn't all bad until the day after. Blisters the size of roaches formed and oozed when they popped, "Maester Aemon says I'll have scars but other than that the hand should be as good as before."
"A scarred hand is nothing here. You'll be wearing gloves here more often than not."
"As you say, my lord." It is ironic really. The cold, the most unpleasant thing about the Wall gave him relief. Whenever he plunged his burn hand into snow or shaved ice dulled the sting.
"Gywen and Hake returned last night." The elder man informed, "They found no sign of your uncle, no more than others did." He said with a sympathetic look.
"I know." Jon said somberly.
"You know." The Old Bear said, "How is it everyone knows everything around here?"
'Because there's nothing else to talk about.' Jon thought.
"It seems there were only two of those...creatures, whatever they were. I wouldn't call them men. Thank the gods for that. Any more..." Jeor shuddered, ", well I can't bear to think about it. There will be more, I can feel it in my bones and Maester Aemon agrees. The cold winds are rising. Summer's at an end, and winter is coming. One the world hasn't seen in thousands of years."
Winter is Coming.
The words of House Stark served as a warning of what always come. Winter. But now Jon believes they are a warning of something worse, more ominous than just winter.
"My Lord." Jon croaks before clearing his throat, "I heard that a raven came in the night..." He hesitated.
"What of it?"
"I had hoped for word of my father. Or my brother." He stated.
"Father." The raven repeated from the Lord Commander's shoulder, "Father."
Jeor pinched its beak to quiet the bird but it flapped its wings and hopped on his head. The raven squawked before flying across the chamber to sit at a window.
"Greif and noise. Dark wings and darker words." The old bear said before moving across the chamber, "If there were news of Lord Eddard, don't you think I would've sent for you? Bastard or not you're his blood. The raven brought a message regarding Ser Barristan Selmy. He was excommunicated from the Kingsguard. They gave his spot to the Hound and now he's wanted for treason. Fools sent two men after him but he slew them easily."
Jon knew Ser Barristan only through stories. Barristan the Bold, they called him. Defeated Meleys the Monstrous during the war of th3 Ninepenny Kings, climbed the walls of Duskindale and freed the Mad King. He's one of the best swordsmen in all of Westeros.
Jeor scoffed, "Mance Rayder amasses the wildlings together, the dead are rising and now a boy sits on the Iron Throne."
"Boy, boy, boy."The raven repeated. Jon imagined that the bird laughed.
"What of my sisters? Sansa and Arya?" He clenched his fists and ignored the stinging in his burnt fingers. The idea of the Lannisters locking them in cold dark cells made his blood boil.
"No mention of Lord Eddard or the girls." Mormont answered, "Perhaps they never received my letter. Aemon sent two with his two best birds. Perhaps they never made it or more likely Grandmaester Pycelle never even bothered to pass on the message. It wouldn't be the first time. They only tell us what they want us to know."
'And you only tell me what you want me to know.'Jon thought resentfully.
"Corn!" The bird squawked, "Corn, corn."
Jon thought the bird strange. Maester Luwin would always feed the ravens of Winterfell cubes of meat. This raven only ever ate corn or grain.
"Oh shut it." Jeor demanded, "Snow, how long until you get the use of that hand, what did Maester Aemon say?"
"Soon, my lord."
Jeor nodded, "Good." The old bear laid a large sword in a black metal scabbard on the table between them, "You'll be ready for this then."
The raven flew across the room and landed on the table. The bird pecked at the scabbard curiously before Jeor swung his hand at the bird. The raven barley flew away up out of the way before landing back on the table.
Jon hadn't the slightest clue of what this meant, "My lord?"
"The fire ruined the pommel, crossguard, and grip. The blade, however, you'll need flames hundreds of times hotter for it to melt. The rest I made anew." He handed the sword to the bastard. "I had the pommel changed from a bear to a wolf."
Jon observed the blade, Valyrian Steel, half a foot longer than the blades he's used to. The grip was soft black leather. The pommel was made of pale stone in the shape of a snarling wolf with two small garnets as the eyes. 'It resembles Ghost.' He thought.
Ice, however, was a true greatsword. It required two hands this one required one and a half. Sometimes called a bastard sword.
"Valyrian Steel?" He looked up at the old bear. He knows Valyrian Steel. His father let him handle Ice often, he knows the look and the feel.
"Aye." The Lord Commander nodded, "Belonged to my father and his father before him. The Mormonts of Bear Island have carried it for five centuries. I wielded it when I was young and passed to my son when I took the Black."
"Your son?" Jon wondered.
"Jorah." He sighed, "Brought dishonor to my house. He at least had the grace of leaving it when he fled. My sister returned it to my keeping."
Jon doesn't remember seeing the old bear carrying this sword, "Why didn't you wield it?"
"The sight of it reminded me of Jorah's shame so I put it aside." He states giving the sword a solemn look, "Thought nothing of it until I found it in the ash after the fire."
He was excited for but a moment before a nagging thought entered his mind 'I have no right to this sword, no more than Ice.'
"My Lord, you do me a great honor but-"
"Spare me your buts boy." The old bear cut in, "I would be sitting here speaking to you if it weren't for you and your wolf. You're brave and quick-witted. Fire! We should've known." He grunted, "We should've remembered. The Long Night was eight thousand years ago...a long while ago but we should've remembered. If the Night's Watch doesn't remember then who will?"
"Who will?" chimed in the raven, "Who will?"
Who will indeed?
"A sword is a small payment for saving my life." Mormont pointed out, "Take it and I will hear no more it." He said in finality.
"Yes, my lord." Jon nodded.
"And spare me any courtesies. Thank me by not. Honor the blade with deeds, not words."
He nodded again, "Does it have a name?"
"Longclaw." The Lord Commander answered.
"Claw." The raven cried, "Claw."
"Longclaw is an apt name." He gave the sword a practice swing. The swing felt awkward with his left hand but still, the sword flowed through the air. It was like it had a mind of its own, "Wolves have claws, as much as bears."
Jeor seemed pleased by the comment, "I suppose so. I suggest wearing it over your shoulder until you get a bit taller. When you get the use of that hand back you should practice two hand strikes. Ser Endrew can teach you some moves."
"Ser Endrew?"
"Endrew Tarth." Jeor clarified, "He's on his way from the Shadow Tower to assume the duties of master-at-arms. Ser Alliser Thorne left yestermorn for Eastwatch-by-the-Sea."
'Thank the gods.' "Why?" He asked.
"I sent him. He's bringing the hand your wolf tore off of Jafer Flowers' wrist. I have commanded him to take a ship to King's Landing and lay it before this boy king. That should get young Joffrey's, I'd think...Ser Alliser's a knight, highborn, anointed, with friends at court, harder to ignore than a glorified crow."
"Crow." The raven screeched. Jon thought it sounded indignant.
Soon Jeor was done with him. Whenever he walked past someone they would congratulate him or smile and he would force himself to smile back. Pyp eventually made him show them all the sword. He played along whenever they compliment it. In his imagination, they would be gaping at the steel of Ice.
Soon he excused himself away from them claiming to check on the Old Bear's supper. He ignored whenever they called him back. He returned to his original chambers. There he found Ghost laying on the bed.
The silent wolf lifts his head at the sound of his boots. His eyes, darker than garnets and fur paler than the stone on his reached up and stroked the back of his ears.
"You should be the honored one." He said before sitting down as Ghost sniffed the snarling wolf pommel.
Jon remembered when he found him. They had gathered all the pups and began to move along until he heard a noise. He found Ghost alone and cold. He was different, the runt in the litter so they shoved him out.
"Jon?"
He turned to see Sam standing awkwardly at the door.
Jon sighed as he stood, "Come to see the sword?"
Sam shook his head quickly, "I was heir to my family sword, Heartsbane." He had a mournful look, "My father would let me hold it a few times but I was scared of it, the blade was too sharp you see, I was afraid I'd hurt my sisters. But Dickon will have it now. He was always a better warrior." He quickly returned to why he was there, "Maester Aemon wishes to see you."
It wasn't time to changed his bandages, "Why?" He demanded. Sam looked nervous, "You told him didn't you?" He accused and Sam's nervous sweating was enough.
"I mean...I didn't want to...I think he knew...he asked...he sees things no one else sees." He stuttered out
"He's blind." Jon replied with a glare. Sam only stuttered again, "I know the way." He sneered before stalking past Sam.
When he arrived at the rookery he found maester Aemon and his steward Clydas. Aemon ordered for Clydas to take a rest and let Jon take the bucket of meat and feed the ravens.
Jon did this in silence before he commented, "Lord Mormont's raven likes corn."
They had a small conversation about ravens being like men "Like men, not all ravens are alike." Maester Aemon stated.
They went on like this until the blind maester asked, "Jon do you know why the men of the Night's Watch vow to take no wives, father no children?"
He simply shrugged, "No." He tossed more meat to the birds. His burned hand throbbed in pain as he moved it.
"So they will not love." Aemon answered, "For love is the bane of honor, death of duty."
Jon froze. It didn't sound right to him but said nothing of it.
The old man went on, "Tell me, Jon, should the day ever arise where your lord father must choose between his duty and honor on one hand and the ones he loves on another, what would he choose?"
Jon stood silent at the question, contemplating the answer within himself before he spoke, "He would do whatever is right." He dodged the answer, "He always does."
Aemon chuckled, "Then he was a man in ten thousand. Most are not so strong. What is honor compared to a woman's love? What id duty compared to a newborn babe in your arms...or the memory of a brothers smile? Winds and words. Winds and words. We are only human and the gods fashioned us for love. That is our great glory and our great tragedy." He paused and sighed before continuing, "The men who formed the Night's Watch knew that only their courage shielded the realm from the darkness of the north. They knew they must have no divided loyalties to weaken their resolve. So they vowed they would have no wives nor children."
Jon stared at the man in silence, "Yet brothers they had, and sisters. Mothers who birthed them and fathers who named them. They came from a hundred quarrelsome kingdoms, and they knew times may change, but men do not. So they pledged as well that the Night's Watch would take no part in the battles of the realm it guarded."
The bastard felt the eyes of the ravens on him, "They kept their pledge. When Harren the Black died at the flames of Balerion and Aegon claimed his kingdom, his brother the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, with ten thousand battle ready men. He did not march. In the days the Seven Kingdoms were Seven Kingdoms, not a generation passed where four or five of them were not at war. The Watch took no part. When the Andals crossed the narrow sea and swept away the kingdoms of the First Men, the sons of the fallen kings kept true to their vows and remained at their posts. So it has always been, for years beyond counting. Such is the price for honor."
He paused before continuing, "A craven can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty when there is no cost to it. How easy it seems then, when there is no cost to it. Yet sooner or later in every man's life comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he must choose."
Jon felt like the weight of the world had just been put on his shoulders, "And you're saying this is my day," He paused, "is that what you're saying?"
Measter Aemon stared at him with those pale, faded eyes. They pierced right through his soul and disarmed him. He felt bare, naked and vulnerable.
The old man put a hand in his shoulder, "It hurts, boy." He stated shakingly, "Yes, choosing. It will always hurt. Always will. I know."
Jon jerked back, "You don't know." He snapped, "No one knows. Even if I'm a bastard they're still my family-"
Aemon interrupted with a sigh, "Have you not heard a word of what I said? Do you think you're the first to face this dilemma?" Despite his dead eyes, Jon saw the pain in them, "Three times the gods saw fit to test my vows. Once when I was young in the fullness of my manhood, another when I was old. When my strength faded and eyes gone dim. And the last choice crueler than the first. What could I do when the ravens came from the south? The ruin of my house, the death of my family, disgraced and desolation. Old, blind, frail what could I have done? When they cut down my brother's grandson and his son and the children! Even the little children!" The old maesters dead eyes lit up with a fire Jon didn't know the old man possessed. The fire was replaced with salty tears.
"Who are you?" Jon asked in shock.
The old man had a shaky smile, "I am a maester of the Citadel, bound in service to Castle Black and the Night's Watch. In my order, we aside our house names when we take our vows and don the collar." Jon looked down at the dangling chain before looking up at the pale eyes, "My father was Maekar, the First of his Name, and my brother Aegon reigned after him in my stead. My father named me for Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, who was his uncle, or his father depending on who you ask and he called me-"
"You're Aemon..." The surname caught on his throat before he forced it out, "Targaryen."
"Once, I was." He simply replied, "So you see Jon I do know. More than anyone I know...and knowing, I won't tell to stay or go. You must make that choice yourself, and live with it for the rest of your days. As I have." His voice turned to a pained whisper, "As I have..."
This chapter is almost word for word from the book but I needed to add a chapter with these two. They both impact the story BIG. Obviously.
