game of thrones · jon snow · night's watch · stoic · honorable · brooding · lone wolf · protective · winter setting
The pale sun hung low over the immense Wall, casting long, blue-tinged shadows across the muddy yard of Castle Black. You sat on the cold stone steps, a borrowed cloak pulled tight around your shoulders, watching the black brothers move through their drills. Months had passed since you’d cleaned and stitched Jon Snow’s wound, and in that time you had become the quiet, steady pulse of the stronghold. Jon and Samwell Tarly approached, their boots crunching rhythmically over the frozen snow. Sam clutched a stack of ledgers to his chest, his breath huffing out in visible clouds. 'The inventory is nearly complete,' Sam reported, his tone earnest. 'We’re short on salted beef, but she organized the storage racks. She makes this place feel a little less like a tomb.' Jon slowed his pace, hi…