To epitomize the world in which we live, we must first step back and remember that we are flawed.
But to understand the world in which we live, we must recognize that man realizes just this: the good exploit the flaws and the wicked jeopardize their...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Shouting rages about their figures in the depths of the Castle Black hall, the elections bringing the worst and best to the table as Jon tries to sink into his seat, helped by the options splayed before him. Sam stares at him with wide and wild eyes, as shocked as Jon by the king's intention, asking with a harsh whisper, "He'll make you a Stark with the stroke of a pen?"
Jon nods at his friend, although his eyes stay firm in their embrace of the wooden table before him, the offer reminding him of all that he had and all that he lost since leaving Winterfell. Intentionally, he verbally reminisces, "It's the first thing I ever remember wanting. I'd daydream that my father would ask the King, and just like that I would never be the bastard of Winterfell again."
"You deserve this," Sam relents, Jon's eyes jumping up to the other man's with a hint of surprise to which the bookworm smiles. "You do. I couldn't be happier for you."
But all the same, Jon knows his duty to his family, shaking his head as he rebukes, "I'm going to refuse him."
"But you'd be Lord of Winterfell..." Sam's eyes reflect the confusion that Jon could expect from any outsider.
"I swore a vow to the Night's Watch. If I don't take my own word seriously, what sort of Lord of Winterfell would I be?" Jon asks, and Sam's eyes reflect this sudden understanding, although he can still see the envy in the offer made to Jon. "And besides, it belongs to Sansa."
Jon sits mutely as the election turns about his form, with men propositioning and Alliser Thorne appearing to be victorious as he grins crookedly. The bastard of Winterfell tries to keep his eyes away from the man and drone the rest out as he focuses on his breathing and the politics he thought were lost in the south. And though he'd never wish for it, and his eyes plead with Sam's to keep silent--please do not do this--before Jon can so much as shove Sam down, his own name's been thrown into the ring and the eyes of Alliser Thorne are then stuck on Jon.
"Whilst Lord Janos was hiding with the women and children, Jon Snow was leading," Sam begins as Jon stands to his feet, not looking like the leader he needs to be if he wants to win, and suddenly understanding all that he can gain from this position. "Ser Alliser fought bravely, it is true. And when he was wounded, it is Jon who saved us. He took charge of the wall's defense. He killed the Magnar of the Thenns. He went north to deal with Mance Rayder, knowing it almost certainly meant his own death. He has allies in the south who will prove vital in supplying more men for the Long Night. He led the mission to avenge Lord Commander Mormont. Mormont himself chose Jon to be his steward. He saw something in Jon, and now we've all seen it, too. He may be young, but he's the commander we turned to when the night was darkest."
A match is lit in Jon's veins as the men about the room cheer loudly like a campaign to rid the world of all the evils north of the Wall. The bastard's shoulders shift into firm formation and his neck straightens to meet the dictating eyes of Alliser Thorne from across the room, strong and certain like the Stark blood he carries. And though it's been many years since he realized the strategy, Jon's suddenly struck by Gabrielle's intent to connect with him, given his predictable future role as the Lord Commander. At the time, he had hated her for using his friendship, but now he understands it in simpler terms--she saw strength in him that no one else did at the time and recognized his worth when he thought he had none.
