The Provenance || Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

1.06

 "I never met my mother," Jon Snow tells Sam, feeling a sort of connection to the downtrodden lord's son and rejected child, "My father wouldn't even tell me her name. I don't know if she's living or dead. I don't know if she's a noblewoman or a fisherman's wife...Or a whore. So I sat there in the brothel as Ros took off her clothes. But I couldn't do it. Because all I could think was what if I got her pregnant and she had a child, another bastard named Snow? It's not a good life for a child."

And, like Jon was able to do with Sam's own story, the larger man makes light of the tale--tucking its sincerity away for later consideration, "So... You didn't know where to put it?"

Falsely offended, Jon rushes about the table and tackles Sam into a fake wrestle, something Jon thought he'd lost to his childhood. It's almost like Sam's now Robb, and he's not in the cold keep of Castle Black but the warm hearth of Winterfell. And, if he listens closely enough through their laughter, Jon just imagines he can hear Sansa and Arya yelling at each other, Old Nan telling Bran a tale, and Rickon babbling nonsense. He smiles.

"Enjoying yourselves?" There's no one that cruel at Winterfell, Jon considers as he turns about to look at Alliser Thorne and his fierce facade. Jon's smile falls quickly, the man taking notice as Sam shivers, not due to the weather, but the fearsome man now in front of them. "You look cold, boys."

"It is a bit nippy," Sam responds unsteadily, obviously not knowing that this is not the best thing to say.

"A bit nippy, yeah, by the fire, indoors," Alliser Thorne's tone shifts from sarcasm to didactic, "It's still summer. Do you boys even remember the last winter? How long has it been now? What, 10 years? I remember. Was it uncomfortable at Winterfell? Were there days when you just couldn't get warm, never mind how many fires your servants built?"

Jon rehashes, "I build my own fires."
"That's admirable. I spent six months out there, beyond the Wall during the last winter. It was supposed to be a two-week mission. We heard a rumor Mance Rayder was planning to attack Eastwatch. So we went out to look for some of his men...Capture them, gather some knowledge.

"The Wildlings who fight for Mance Rayder are hard men. Harder than you'll ever be. They know their country better than we do. They knew there was a storm coming in. So they hid in their caves and waited for it to pass. And we got caught in the open. Wind so strong it yanked 100-foot trees straight from the ground, roots and all. If you took your gloves off to find your cock to have a piss, you lost a finger to the frost. And all in darkness.

"You don't know cold. Neither of you do. The horses died first. We didn't have enough to feed them, to keep them warm. Eating the horses was easy. But later when we started to fall...That wasn't easy. We should have had a couple of boys like you along, shouldn't we? Soft, fat boys like you. We'd have lasted a fortnight on you and still had bones leftover for soup. Soon we'll have new recruits and you lot will be passed along to the Lord Commander for assignment and they will call you men of the Night's Watch, but you'd be fools to believe it. You're boys still. And come the winter you will die...Like flies."

Jon cannot understand the man's hatred for him--so entirely depthless are his eyes that Jon finds himself swamped head-deep in the impression. He wants to scream at the man--tell him that he's wrong about Jon. And Sam. But Jon is smart enough to know that refuting the man's impression will only make Alliser hate him more--despite not having anything else to do. He wants to hit the man at the hopelessness of potential endeavors...but does not have to, as Valyrion rockets into the hall with due fervor.

And much to Jon's surprise--not knowing the bird had much spite--the falcon rakes his claws deep into Alliser's throat--not enough to hit the artery but cause lasting scars. The man shouts in pain, clutching his neck, as Valyrion clings to Jon's shoulder, dropping the message into the awaiting bastard's hands. Remarkably, Jon grins at the scene, and even moreso as he notices the murderous stare the bird still focuses upon the man of the Night's Watch.