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Fandomweekly Challenge 180 - Keep your enemies closer
Title: Turning heads
Fandom: Game of Thrones (ASOIAF)
Characters: Jon Snow, Alliser Thorne, Stannis Baratheon
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 180 - Eavesdropping it at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Summary: Jon has traded one enemy for another.
‘Winter will be hard down south, Your Grace,’ Jon warned as he gripped his horn of ale, twirling it on the table in front of him. It was folly to say, of course. The King had made up his mind and there was going to be no changing it.
‘Less hard if the true Warden of the North were there to rally his sworn allies to our cause.’
Jon shook his head. He was no more Warden of the North than he was a true Stark. Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was the highest post he could ever hold, and one that was getting harder by the day.
Stannis had a cold, calculating way about him that both unnerved Jon and comforted him simultaneously. His father had occasionally mentioned Stannis in conversation when the subject of the King came up, noting how very different the King's two brothers were by comparison. Stannis was known for having no smile for anyone, nor even the slightest humour. “At the very least you always know where you stand,” his father had said. “There are no pretty words. He has a mind to understand politics but not the will.” In many ways it sounded to Jon as if he was the kind of man his father might admire. Eddard had no love for mincing words, but he had a warmth and kindness that Stannis very clearly did not.
‘No other will ever offer you what I'm offering you. A man is a fool to deny his King.’
Jon was about to reply, reminding him that the Night's Watch served no King, when the sounds of a scuffle erupted outside. Jon rose quickly to his feet and marched to the door, hand gripped on the pommel of his sword, and threw it open. Two of Stannis' men, plus one of his own, a young man named Egan, held between them a struggling Ser Alliser Thorne.
‘Your Grace,’ one of the guards began, ‘he was caught hidden behind a crate, eavesdropping.’ Thorne continued to try and rid himself of his captors, only shrugging free when Stannis' hand subtly commanded them to release their hold.
‘What say you, Egan?’ Jon asked, knowing he might get a closer semblance of the truth. He was, if not loyal to Jon, at least not favoured by Ser Alliser enough to lie.
‘It's true, Lord Commander. Like a rat skulking in the bilgewater at the bottom of the hull’, he said, falling back on the old idioms of his youth growing up in the ports of White Harbour. ‘No mistaking it for anything else.’
How much had Thorne heard? Jon wondered. Had he been hoping to hear the news that Stannis might leave Castle Black? Or that Jon might go with him? Things were precarious enough as it was without infighting. Alliser Thorne and Janos Slynt had worked against him ever since he'd returned, citing him as a traitor for abandoning the Watch and joining the Wildling enemies. Despite giving him the Master at Arms posting, it had done nothing to secure Thorne's loyalty.
‘To betray your King is to sign your own death warrant,’ Stannis told him.
Jon stepped forward before Stannis' men could drag Ser Alliser into the courtyard. ‘A moment, Your Grace,’ Jon implored.
‘You've got enemies amongst you, Lord Commander,’ Stannis remarked, sounding unsurprised by the fact.
Jon held his silence for a beat. Lord Commanders had been chosen by popular election for a thousand years. There should be no dissent amongst the ranks against their appointed leader. Yet what had he done to earn their trust since?
For as long as the Watch had stood atop the Wall and kept guard over it, the Wildlings had been their enemies. Only a few weeks ago they had assaulted the Wall, intending to break its gates and slay any Night's Watchman who stood in their way. Now he had offered them safe passage, straw beds in the unused castle towers and food from their dwindling supplies. What they did next was still uncertain. Would they accept the offer of unoccupied lands to have as their own to farm and live peaceably, or would they journey further south, inciting fear and claiming the lands of others? He hoped that many might stay here and swell the ranks of the Night's Watch in preparation for the true battle ahead – when the dead came for them from the farthest parts of the icy north of the Wall. They would need every last man capable of bearing arms, and Stannis' men as well, though that possibility was becoming less and less likely.
‘The Night's Watch will deal with him,’ Jon said.
Stannis looked unperturbed. ‘Very well,’ he replied, heading back inside. The guards filtered away and, with some reluctance, having received a dismissing hand from his Lord Commander, Egan also took his leave.
Thorne scowled at him. ‘You're a big man now that you've got a southerner's army inside the castle walls, aren't you?’
Jon lunged forward, catching Thorne off guard as he slammed the larger man back up against the wall. Before Ser Alliser could react, Jon had drawn Longclaw and had the sharp steel raised, pressed against the Watchman's neck as his free arm pinned him in place. ‘You can still have death if you desire it,’ he warned, pressing the blade more firmly, watching the way Thorne's adam's apple bobbed up against it.
‘You'll be the death of us all,’ Ser Alliser seethed. ‘At least I won't bow out a coward when the Wildlings come to slit your throat.’
Jon's jaw clenched, so tempted to give Thorne what he wanted. ‘If you’re going to listen at the window, do it quietly. And know that it will be the last thing you ever do with your head still attached.’ He pulled Longclaw back down, leaving only the thin line of red to mark where it had been, and sheathed the Valyrian steel.
Thorne smirked. ‘As you command, Lord Snow.’
Fandom: Game of Thrones (ASOIAF)
Characters: Jon Snow, Alliser Thorne, Stannis Baratheon
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 180 - Eavesdropping it at
fandomweeklySummary: Jon has traded one enemy for another.
‘Winter will be hard down south, Your Grace,’ Jon warned as he gripped his horn of ale, twirling it on the table in front of him. It was folly to say, of course. The King had made up his mind and there was going to be no changing it.
‘Less hard if the true Warden of the North were there to rally his sworn allies to our cause.’
Jon shook his head. He was no more Warden of the North than he was a true Stark. Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was the highest post he could ever hold, and one that was getting harder by the day.
Stannis had a cold, calculating way about him that both unnerved Jon and comforted him simultaneously. His father had occasionally mentioned Stannis in conversation when the subject of the King came up, noting how very different the King's two brothers were by comparison. Stannis was known for having no smile for anyone, nor even the slightest humour. “At the very least you always know where you stand,” his father had said. “There are no pretty words. He has a mind to understand politics but not the will.” In many ways it sounded to Jon as if he was the kind of man his father might admire. Eddard had no love for mincing words, but he had a warmth and kindness that Stannis very clearly did not.
‘No other will ever offer you what I'm offering you. A man is a fool to deny his King.’
Jon was about to reply, reminding him that the Night's Watch served no King, when the sounds of a scuffle erupted outside. Jon rose quickly to his feet and marched to the door, hand gripped on the pommel of his sword, and threw it open. Two of Stannis' men, plus one of his own, a young man named Egan, held between them a struggling Ser Alliser Thorne.
‘Your Grace,’ one of the guards began, ‘he was caught hidden behind a crate, eavesdropping.’ Thorne continued to try and rid himself of his captors, only shrugging free when Stannis' hand subtly commanded them to release their hold.
‘What say you, Egan?’ Jon asked, knowing he might get a closer semblance of the truth. He was, if not loyal to Jon, at least not favoured by Ser Alliser enough to lie.
‘It's true, Lord Commander. Like a rat skulking in the bilgewater at the bottom of the hull’, he said, falling back on the old idioms of his youth growing up in the ports of White Harbour. ‘No mistaking it for anything else.’
How much had Thorne heard? Jon wondered. Had he been hoping to hear the news that Stannis might leave Castle Black? Or that Jon might go with him? Things were precarious enough as it was without infighting. Alliser Thorne and Janos Slynt had worked against him ever since he'd returned, citing him as a traitor for abandoning the Watch and joining the Wildling enemies. Despite giving him the Master at Arms posting, it had done nothing to secure Thorne's loyalty.
‘To betray your King is to sign your own death warrant,’ Stannis told him.
Jon stepped forward before Stannis' men could drag Ser Alliser into the courtyard. ‘A moment, Your Grace,’ Jon implored.
‘You've got enemies amongst you, Lord Commander,’ Stannis remarked, sounding unsurprised by the fact.
Jon held his silence for a beat. Lord Commanders had been chosen by popular election for a thousand years. There should be no dissent amongst the ranks against their appointed leader. Yet what had he done to earn their trust since?
For as long as the Watch had stood atop the Wall and kept guard over it, the Wildlings had been their enemies. Only a few weeks ago they had assaulted the Wall, intending to break its gates and slay any Night's Watchman who stood in their way. Now he had offered them safe passage, straw beds in the unused castle towers and food from their dwindling supplies. What they did next was still uncertain. Would they accept the offer of unoccupied lands to have as their own to farm and live peaceably, or would they journey further south, inciting fear and claiming the lands of others? He hoped that many might stay here and swell the ranks of the Night's Watch in preparation for the true battle ahead – when the dead came for them from the farthest parts of the icy north of the Wall. They would need every last man capable of bearing arms, and Stannis' men as well, though that possibility was becoming less and less likely.
‘The Night's Watch will deal with him,’ Jon said.
Stannis looked unperturbed. ‘Very well,’ he replied, heading back inside. The guards filtered away and, with some reluctance, having received a dismissing hand from his Lord Commander, Egan also took his leave.
Thorne scowled at him. ‘You're a big man now that you've got a southerner's army inside the castle walls, aren't you?’
Jon lunged forward, catching Thorne off guard as he slammed the larger man back up against the wall. Before Ser Alliser could react, Jon had drawn Longclaw and had the sharp steel raised, pressed against the Watchman's neck as his free arm pinned him in place. ‘You can still have death if you desire it,’ he warned, pressing the blade more firmly, watching the way Thorne's adam's apple bobbed up against it.
‘You'll be the death of us all,’ Ser Alliser seethed. ‘At least I won't bow out a coward when the Wildlings come to slit your throat.’
Jon's jaw clenched, so tempted to give Thorne what he wanted. ‘If you’re going to listen at the window, do it quietly. And know that it will be the last thing you ever do with your head still attached.’ He pulled Longclaw back down, leaving only the thin line of red to mark where it had been, and sheathed the Valyrian steel.
Thorne smirked. ‘As you command, Lord Snow.’