FIFTEEN

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Lord Commander

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Lord Commander.

All his life Jon had never been picked first for anything monumental. Robb had been first legitimate son to their father. He had been the heir to Winterfell leaving Jon somewhere in the shadows of an unknown fate. Though, now he had been chosen by his fellow men to be their Lord Commander. A fact that he knew got under Ser Alliser Thorne's skin, but right now sitting in the chair of the man he had once been a steward for he couldn't help but feel the swooning of pride.

They had all chosen him, a bastard, to be their leader and to do what was right. These were the thoughts that ran through Jon's head as Samwell laid yet another request Castle Black would be making to lords across Westeros for their criminals to be sent to the Wall.

He hadn't heard of half of these strongholds before in his life, "Lord Ashford, Lady Caulfield, Lord Smallwood, Lord Mayzen, Lord Wibberly." They were all small houses in the northern or mid regions each with two or so men to be sent up. Jon dipped his quill in the ink again as Sam placed another piece of parchment for him to sign. Hand hovering above the line, Jon's heart froze at the name that lay before him:

Roose Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

Jon could taste the acidity flood his mouth. "Not him."

"I know, I'm sorry but we need men and supplies and Rose Bolton is the Warden of the North whether you like it or not."

"He murdered my brother."

Sam sighed, "We swore to be the watchers on the wall and we can't watch the wall with fifty men," he pointed out. This was the one thing Jon hated about Sam, like Hermione they always seemed to be right. "And we can't get more men without help from the Warden of the North."

Jon swallowed, signing this paper felt like a betrayal against Robb, against Hermione, against his family. Bolton had taken what little semblance of family he had outside the walls of Castle Black and now he was expected to play nice. The acidity was rancid on his tongue and quickly he signed his name before tossing the quill away. He was done.

Feeling the tension shift, Sam gathered all the parchments from his desk and returned them to his leather casing to be sent off to their respected places. In a couple fortnights new men and supplies would be knocking at the gates of Castle Black. Though it still wouldn't be enough. There was a war coming and the army of the undead undoubtly marched south towards the Wall. If they were going to survive that, they needed more men. Jon's teeth sunk into his lips as a dangerous thought came into his head right as his door opened and the red woman stepped inside his chambers.

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