Chapter Text
Pain washed over him. Then nothing. He was plunged into nothingness, into darkness, into an abyss. He felt nothing, saw nothing and smelt nothing. It was as though someone had put an end to every aspect of the very fiber of his being. Jon Snow did not exist any longer. It was limbo, never ending and everlasting, he was gone, it was finished.
A voice echoed in the abyss. In the nothingness a sliver of sound emerged,
“Take him Gods, kill the bastard. Take his life and rid me of the wretched reminder of my failings as a wife,” Lady Stark begged.
“He is my son, and that is all anyone need ever know. All talks disparaging the Lady Ashara’s virtue and honor will end now!” His father warned loudly.
“Sword up and parry boy, fight with the menace that bastards are capable of,” encouraged Ser Rodrik.
“Ride the horse with respect and command son, we Northerners need this skill above all, for in the winter if you fall off your horse; you die.” His father gently said.
“Do not tell father I fell off the horse, the sons of Eddard do not fall,” Robb said furiously.
“Sansa, stop your stupid sewing and come play,” Arya whined.
“Bran mother said you must stop climbing the walls! Come down this instance!” Sansa screeched.
“Look at the wee lad, he’s a wild one, isn’t he? The wild wolf this one will be!” Boomed Lord Glover.
“Stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Jon explained.
Stale breath filled Jon’s mouth as he gasped and shuddered for breath, his eyes wide, frantic and unfocused. Coppery taste of blood, the cobalt taste of snow and the carpet of smoke from the fire around him flooded his senses.
“He’s alive! The fucker’s alive! Put the fucking fire out!” Jon recognized Tormund’s desperate voice from somewhere around him. He was on a pyre. He was being burned atop the pyre. Except he was not burning. He felt nothing. Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was the afterlife. What should have been.
“Tormund, Tormund” Jon rasped, his voice hoarse and his throat prickly. “Get me off of here Tormund.” Suddenly his vision cleared. Val, Tormund and Davos were amongst the first he spotted. Tormund moved jadedly, throwing aside the bundled branches with his gloved hands.
“Fucking help me you cunts!” Tormund yelled furiously at the seemingly frozen wildlings watching Jon. Watching his funeral to be precise Jon thought. Watching his rebirth. Watching him rise from the flames. Jon Snow did not exist any longer
Finally, Tormund grabbed him around the torso and pulled. Jon felt himself being supported by Tormund and a speechless Davos. He winced at the pain he felt. He was sore everywhere, perhaps there were worse things to be when someone comes back from the dead Jon thought.
His wince seemed to throw Davos into action. He was being led up to the Lord’s chambers by Davos and Tormund. Every single fucking step hurt Jon. Every single step he noticed more and more of the people in the courtyard. They had witnessed a God. That is the way they stared dumbfoundedly at Jon, as if he were a God.
“I thought you were gone, I thought you dead, son. It’s the red witch. She tried to bring you back, but it didn’t work, Val said you would want to pass on to the next life the wildling way. What the fuck have I just seen Jon?” Davos whispered furiously, seemingly all in one breath.
Jon did want to be given to the Gods in the way of the wildlings, but the next life? What did Davos mean by the next life? Jon worked his brain to remember, was the next life only a recollection of voices from his previous life? What kind of cruel joke was this, the Gods had bestowed upon Jon.
They opened the doors to his chambers, and he noticed the red witch and Val slip in with the three of them. They laid him on his bed and barred the door just as Val reached for the wash basin and wash cloth. Wiping at his sweaty and blackened face that was dirtied by the fire. Jon shuddered and schooled his features as much as he could.
“I saw nothing, Davos.” Jon said sternly. “There was nothing” he said resolutely. He was slipping out of consciousness under the cool ministrations of Val. “The traitors, what of them.” He whispered desperately wanting to know of their fate before he passed out.
“They are in the holding cells lad; we will wait for your decision when you get better and we understand what we just saw out there.” Davos said.
Jon grimaced then faded, his vision blurring to the blurry sight of Val’s beautiful dirty blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes.
Jon pawed and ripped at the bread that Val had brought. He ate in a comfortable silence in his chambers. He had not left the room, although he was well now, everyone close to him understood he wanted to prolong the inevitable. Facing everyone, passing the sentence to Ser Alliser Thorne, Olly, and the other traitors.
Val had nursed him back to health after a hard three days of fever and sickness. Jon had been fond of her before, and she had become his closest ally and truest friend in those three days. She was the only one who knew what Jon intended to do. How he intended to abandon the watch, deeming his oath fulfilled.
“It has to be today Jon Snow,” Val murmured softly as she looked at him with nothing but kindness and fierce devotion. Jon slowed his eating, his grey eyes meeting her blue ones. “You must pass the sentence and be on your way, the men can no longer go without answers. Not after what they saw.”
Jon merely nodded his agreement morosely. His reluctance shining through his actions. Putting his plate of food aside he stood and dressed himself to confront the challenge outside.
Jon walked towards the traitors while their nooses were being tightened. The crowd, mixed with brothers of the nights watch and wildlings, parted ways for him. As if they were too afraid to be close to him. Like they thought him a God, equal parts fearing him and being awe struck by him.
As Jon walked up to the platform he thought once more, Jon Snow did not exist any longer. They wanted a God. A leader. A ruler. A king.
He would become that.
Winterfell will be his, he will kill the Bolton bastard and he will rally the men under his banner. He decided right then that he will hold the seat of Winterfell until one of his half siblings come and claim it.
“You are charged with treason against your Lord Commander, you all have betrayed the Night’s Watch and will be executed now. If you have any last words now is the time.” Jon said calmly, his voice and face betraying none of the emotion that brewed within him like a storm. No one dared speak a word. Not even smug Ser Alliser Thorne.
They murdered him, these men, yet they were insignificant. He would live on, they would die. Still, a fire raged in his body. His blood burned. His face a mask, the warrior's face, the one he was told his enemies should see before they die. They did not deserve a simple execution, albeit their death would serve a greater purpose.
“Before I execute you all, you should know that if and when you become dead men walking, your souls will not find rest. The Lord Commander is encouraged to keep your undead bodies as proof of what is to come. So that all the lands finally believe.” Jon let his pleasure be openly seen now as he sneered at the scum. They all blanched further if it were at all possible. Olly with a murderous expression on his face.
“You fucking bastard,” Olly seethed. It did not matter to Jon. He reached the taut rope. He grasped Longclaw firm in his hand and swung it down. He watched the traitors, murderers and oath breakers choke to a blue as the fire in his body abated slightly. He took a sharp breath in, not allowing his face to contort in the anger he felt. He wanted to cleave their heads off and kick them far from their wretched spasming bodies.
“The mans who passes the sentence must swing the sword,” the words of Eddard Stark whispered in the wind.
“Put the bodies in crates before they arise. Keep them somewhere safe. I have fulfilled my oath to the Night’s Watch. I pledged my life and I gave it.” Jon said clearly through the crisp freezing air. Every being within Castle Black hung on to his every word. He climbed down and made his way through the crowd.
“My watch is ended.” Jon Snow did not exist any longer.