The Son of Ice and Fire

The Night's Watch

For the Watch.

Jon Snow shuddered before the fire in the Lord Commander's chambers as the words echoed through his head. The last words he heard before the darkness took over. He had a blanket around his bare shoulders. One of his brothers said he was going to retrieve him some new clothes as his old ones were torn from the knives. However, it had been quite a while.

Perhaps his brothers were avoiding him.

He thought it had ben Edd...he wasn't quite sure. Everything seemed so distant, especially himself. He felt present, but at the same time he felt as though he were a million leagues away.

Ghost was resting at Jon's feet, more content than he'd ever seen him before.

There was a soft knock at the door. Ghost lifted his head and looked at the door. Jon figured he'd muttered for them to enter as the door opened after a few moments.

"Lord Commander," the Onion Knight, Ser Davos, said.

"I'm no longer Lord Commander, Ser Davos," Jon Snow muttered, staring into the fire to see if he could see the god who had brough him back from the dead.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Ser Davos said, slowly.

"'Night gathers and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death.'" Jon glanced up at the Onion Knight. "It ended with my death, Ser Davos."

"Retake your vows. I am sure the men will relect you, if they see it necessary." Suddenly, Ghost got up and ran to the door, past Ser Davos. Then, Melisandre came around the corner, red and terrible and beautiful as she was.

Ghost licked her hand and she smiled slightly. "Lord Commander," Melisandre greeted him. Jon made a gesture to cover himself further with the blanket. "I have already seen you bare, Lord Snow. You need not be decent on my account."

"It wasn't on your account, Lady Melisandre," Jon said, his voice acidic. Ghost whined and looked back at Jon, a questioning look in his blood red eyes.

"I would've expected you to show the woman who brought you back more respect, Lord Commander," Melisandre said.

"Not Lord Commander," Jon growled. He glanced up at the two who had once been loyal to the late Stannis Baratheon. "I won't say it again."

The door flew open and Jon looked up. It was Edd, with a pile of black clothes. Edd stopped and looked at the Red Woman and the Onion Knight.

"I've got your clothes for you, Snow," Edd said. He crossed the room and put the clothes on the table next to Jon. "Is there anything else you'll be needing?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Jon muttered. Edd gave a short nod, glanced at Melisandre and Ser Davos, and then quickly left the room. Jon stood, the blanket covering him to his knees. "If you could step out of the room, please."

"Lord Snow," Melisandre said, her brows furrowed. For a moment, he saw how vulnerable she truly was behind the confident gaze.

"Out," Jon ordered, as calmly as possible. Neither of them moved. "Ghost--"

"Apologies, Jon Snow," Ser Davos said. "We will give you your privacy." Ser Davos grabbed Melisandre by the arm and led her out of the room.

Ghost turned to look at Jon, the questioning look still in his eyes. "Go, boy," Jon said. Ghost whined, and Jon felt his anger build up in his stomach again. "Get out of here!"

The direwolf barked at him and then ran out of the room, after Melisandre and Ser Davos. Jon closed the door and made sure to lock it. The last thing he wanted was people bothering him. He needed a moment alone--a moment to breathe. It had only been a few hours since he'd come back and since then, his brothers and the wildlings had had their eyes on him, like he was some sort of freak.