DISASTROUS ( Jon Snow )

17

i don't remember what it was to not love you, and that's part of the problem. loving you burst something in me that i can't just rebuild. it flooded my cities. you don't come back from that without mold in your lungs.

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Jon Snow had been desperately attempting to act as if it were just a typical day at Castle Black. He didn't want to think of Amaris' lingering presence that now ghosted every corridor. His personal feelings however, were taking over – and it was evident when he shoved Olly to the ground during a training session. However, Jon had been able to brush that off as trying to prepare Olly for the true strains and aches of battle.

Most unfortunately, the sparring practice had been cut short by the arrival of the Red Woman. Jon did not know much about Melisandre. This was the first time he had seen the woman without her being by Amaris' side. Melisandre and Amaris often spoke in hushed tones, their eyes casting knowing glances upon each man they came across. The two women together looked severe and intimidating. Alone, Melisandre still looked as intimidating and severe as ever.

"The king wants a word," Melisandre told Jon in an accented voice, a tiny smirk on her lips.

Saying nothing more, Melisandre turned and walked away. Sighing, Jon set his sparring equipment aside and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. Silence settled between the two as the lift pulled them up to the top of Castle Black. The howling wind and the clattering of chains were the only sounds to be heard.

As they stood in the lift, Jon could feel Melisandre's gaze burning into his skin. He turned and shot her a glance of confusion. The Red Woman just smiled at him. There was something very off putting about Melisandre.

"You're not cold, my lady?" Jon asked, eyeing her sheer outfit.

"Never," Melisandre answered. "The Lord's fire lives within me, Jon Snow."

As she spoke, Melisandre took Jon's hand and pried his glove off. She lifted his hand to her cheek and said, "Feel."

Before she let go, Jon ripped his hand away from her warm flesh. It felt wrong to touch a woman that wasn't Amaris, even if it was innocently intended. Scowling, Jon stared ahead and tugged his glove back onto his hand.

"Are you a virgin?" Melisandre asked, a somewhat playful edge to her voice.

"Yes," Jon said, still staring straight ahead.

"Good."

Jon didn't know what Melisandre meant by that, but he didn't want to know either. They remained in silence until the lift stopped. Melisandre led Jon to the outlook post where Stannis Baratheon stood with Ser Davos Seaworth and Amaris.

"Your grace," Melisandre called out. "The Bastard of Winterfell."

Instantly, Jon kneeled before Stannis and did his best not to look at Amaris when he rose. Stannis took two steps towards Jon.

"You know who rules at Winterfell now?"

"Roose Bolton," Jon replied distastefully.

"Mmm," Stannis nodded, "the traitor who plunged a dagger into Robb Stark's heart."

From the corner of his eye, Jon could see a look of sadness take over Amaris' features. Robb had been the reason Jon plucked up enough courage to initially do something about his feelings for Amaris. During her stay in Winterfell, Amaris and Robb had been close friends. In the midst of everything that had been happening, Jon had forgotten how Robb's death must have felt for Amaris.

"Don't you want to avenge him?" Stannis asked.

"I want a great many things, Your Grace," Jon sighed, unable to keep himself from glancing at Amaris. "But I'm a sworn brother of the Night's Watch now."