Jon scrubbed the wooden table, until the bristles of the brush bent and bowed beneath his hands. The wood was raw when he finished, the grime scraped away to bare a rough cedar.

Ser Alliser had left, the sound of his leather boots now just a heavy echo in the distance. Jon was pleased to see him go. He had always found any type of work impossible whilst someone watched over his shoulder.

"He was sent here by Tywin Lannister you know." Sam lowered his voice, and leaned over the table, "He fought for the Targaryens during the rebellion. Once the Lannisters rose to power he was given a choice, death or the Wall." His story came to a close and he grew silent, "I bet you already know that though." He finished, shaking his head and returning to his work.

Jon did know it. He knew everything about that rebellion, but he didn't know if he cared to say so. Two name days had passed since he had heard the story last, and he recalled the vivid memory with ease. Arya and Bran sat on their knees whilst he, Robb and Sansa sat at the table. Rickon was just a waddling babe, running in and out of the room without a care in the world. Father told the tale after they had all begged him.

When Old Nan told it, it was dramatic and grand. A story filled with glory for the Starks and terror of those who opposed them. His brothers and sisters had always liked her telling best. Maester Luwin told it like a history book, with facts and names and deaths and dates. No one liked his telling, not even Bran, who lived for stories. Jon had always preferred Father's telling. He told it sad, but he told it true.

"We learned about it at Winterfell." Was all that Jon decided to say.

"Do you miss it? Winterfell I mean." Jon thought it a stupid question and almost told him so, when he remembered that Sam's life back home had not been the same as his. On the Wall, a man might miss his home or he might be pleased to see it behind him.

"I do." Jon admitted, his hands never stopping their work. "I miss my brothers and sisters and my father." He missed another, but he did not say...

Each day that passed made it more familiar than easy, and Jon found himself thinking on more than just the faces he left behind. He missed the smell of wood burning in the smoke-filled yard just beyond the portcullis and the citrus bliss of lemon cakes at supper. He missed the noise of Mikken's hammer, always loud and always in the early morning hours. Even the scratch of Maester Luwin's quill etched into his thoughts between the sound of Arya's secrets being whispered by candlelight.

"I miss the food at Horn Hill. And the warm. And my mother." Sam began fondly, 'but not much else." Jon thought Sam was through, when he began again with exasperation, "And girls! I miss girls too. Though I never did find one that liked me back." Jon's breathing became slow, and he worried that Sam would notice. It grew eerily quiet when Jon did not reply. He didn't want to talk of girls with Sam. He had not dreamed of Ev̱gení̱s in a weeks time, and as she began to fill his thoughts he worried that he might start again. Damn you Sam. Jon suddenly felt like a fool. When he thought of her, his heart beat became fast only to fall in defeat when he realized that he would neither talk to her, touch or see her. But then, disappointment had always been his food and drink.

"Dareon told Pyp, who told me this morning when we broke fast that he'd been to dig for buried treasure in moles town. Said that there were others with him."

Jon could not care less which brothers left to visit whores in the middle of the night. So long as he was not one of them. "So?"

"So? I suppose I'm not surprised. You've probably had hundreds of girls. Mole's town would be a pebble in the sea for you."

"I don't believe in whores." Jon answered sullenly.

Sam blinked at him stupidly, his fat hands unable to touch his sides while at rest. "They're not ghosts Jon. They exist whether you believe in them or not." Jon did not humour his jests.

"I don't lie with whores. And I'll have you know that I've never lied with anyone. I'm the same as you." Jon lied so surely that he even believed it himself. Sam only shook his head and made a doubting grunt. "It's true." Jon pushed his lie. Had I not met Ev̱gení̱s it would have been true... Jon dug deep down, back to the boy he had been before that fateful day and back to what he once believed in. He wondered how many more times he would have to say it before it became true. "Suppose I got a woman pregnant. The child would bare the name Snow whether I took its mother to wife or not. And that I could not stand." His fingers had become raw from the friction he had unknowingly made from his scrub brush. His words sounded true, and there was only ever a sliver of time when he thought otherwise.

Jon wondered to himself how foolish Samwell Tarley might have thought he was. Having left behind the only woman he had ever loved who also happened to be the only woman who couldn't give him any children. To the outside world, she might have been the solution to a great many of his problems...

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a horrible liar." Jon club hauled his scrubbing and looked up suddenly, a jolt of fear and anger rising in him.

"What do you know?" Jon pressed aggressively, leaning forward over the table. Tyrion Lannister had learned of Ev̱gení̱s through means that Jon had overlooked, perhaps Sam had too.

Sam only smiled, melting away the tension in the room with his ease. He shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. You gave yourself away just now." Jon looked at his feet in defeat. How could I fall for it twice? Once with Tyrion and now with Sam. Jon cursed his temper. "Well," Sam spoke up again, "That, and I might have heard you speaking with Tyrion Lannister." Jon mouth tightened. "I never heard a name. I just got the idea that you might have loved her." Sam gave him a small smile, and bit his bottom lip. Jon sighed and his disposition softened.

Robb came to mind soon after. How many needed to know that he'd laid with his brother's wife. He could not shame Robb again, nor would he continue to tarnishEv̱gení̱s' reputation. Tyrion Lannister knew and Robb knew. That was plenty.

Ev̱gení̱s face came next. A most welcome and unwelcome visitor. On the Wall there were more important things to think of, but Jon found it hard to let go. Letting go was forgetting and forgetting was trying to make it like it never was. A thing he had vowed he would never do. Even before he made his vows to the Night's Watch.

When he thought of her, there was a time of warmth, a moment of relief. Tyrion Lannister had called her a little green bird once and she was a bird of sorts. A small finch with elegant words to rival any song and graceful steps to put all flight to shame. On a perch so far from him now that his mind did not even bother to recall the blue that she had worn when he saw her last. Blue was most becoming on her, but it was green that he would always imagine her in.

"I shouldn't have listened to your conversation. I was curious. I know it was wrong." Sam was truly sorry. His eyes were apologetic and his face had a pathetic sort of look, wedged between two fat cheeks.

Jon thought Sam's story was a sad one. He had never known a woman, and all he would ever know would be from the tales of other more fortunate brothers. He pitied him. "She was the loudest person I have ever met and she had a way with words." Jon began, he stared at nothing in particular, his work at a stand still. An excited smile spread across Sam's face as he realized that Jon was sharing. "She spoke with her hands, like they might help her to get her thoughts across." He half laughed, remembering her eagerness and passion. There was a silence that filled the room, and a sad longing filled Jon's heart.

"Louder than Pyp?" Sam's voice broke the quiet, with a playful smile and an eyebrow raised.

Jon laughed from his chest, "She would put him to shame." He said with a queer sort of pride.

"What was her name?"

"No names." Jon warned sternly.

"Alright." Sam agreed, his cowardice showing. "Was she..." Sam began a paused, treading on the thin ice that was Jon's allowance. "Was she pretty?" He finally managed to ask.

Jon raised an eyebrow, then lowered his face to the ground in a bashful smile, "Very."

Sam let out a whimper of intrigue. "What colour hair?" Jon could see Sam's curiosity growing, and it only made his smile linger further.

"Black like mine. And before you ask she had eyes to match." Sam hummed to himself and Jon suspected that Sam might have been disappointed with his answer, but he could not be certain. Jon didn't care whether Sam liked black hair or not. He'd be lucky to get a girl a third as beautiful as Ev̱gení̱s and an eighth her charm and good humour. Jon liked black and that was all that mattered.

Jon looked up and saw Sam with his pudgy hands over his chest. "And her uhm..."

"Enough questions." Jon's voice was firm, but he said it with a smirk.

"Did you love her?" Sam asked anyhow. Jon took in a deep breath, "Don't be angry with me. I just want to know is all."

Jon wanted to be angry with Sam, but he held back. A part of him wanted Sam to keep asking, but he worried that the wrong question might get under his nerves.

"We loved each other, once." Jon said quickly.

"But not any longer?"

Jon put his head down and began to scrub once more. He regretted ever stopping as the salt now ached his hands. "I don't know... I hope not. For her sake."

"And not yours?" Sam means no harm, he only likes to ask questions about things he knows nothing about. A crime Jon could hardly condemn him for.

He sighed instead, "It's in my best interest that I stop having feelings for her. She'll be married some months now."

"So soon?" Sam asked in an outrage.

"A girl like her doesn't stay unmarried for long." Jon lied, and the expression on Samwell Tarley's face was less than convinced.

"Was she high or low born?"

"High. And rich." He admitted, but it was neither of those things that made him love her. The Princess Myrcella was high born and rich as they come, yet Jon had found her insipid.

"Well perhaps one day you might be able to pay her a visit. Like your Uncle Benjen used to do..." Sam caught himself and slowed by the end. Uncle Benjen had been lost some weeks now and not a day passed that Jon did not imagine that he would go after him. "You could see how she is. How many children she's had."

In the short time that Jon had come to know Sam he had realized that he was right about most things. Even now, he was only half wrong. He would like to see her again someday, years from now mayhap. He would like to know how his family was and how Winterfell was doing. But Jon knew that he would never get to meet Ev̱gení̱s' children.

"Shame she couldn't give you any children. If she had become pregnant would you have stayed? Never come to the Wall at all?"

Jon rounded the table, his chest puffed. He grabbed Sam by the collar. Enough was enough. How could Sam know that Ev̱gení̱s could not have children. He knew more than he was telling. "What are you talking about?!"

Sam threw his hands in the air and coward as Jon expected, "I didn't mean anything by it! You-you-you said you didn't want children! You said you were afraid that th-they'd be given the name Snow!" Sam stuttered.

Jon starred at Sam for a moment, and slowly his anger gave way to feeling ridiculous. He loosened his grip on Sam's collar and massaged his own face. "I'm sorry Sam."

"That's alight."Sam answered, holding his neck with relief.

"I've been uneasy since Uncle Benjen's been missing. That's all." It was a half truth. Jon had missed his Uncle Benjen truly, he had acted out of fear, which he knew now to be his own paranoia.

Sam was quiet, and Jon could feel him studying his movement. Jon wondered if he had believed it. "A man like your uncle will be alright. He's the best ranger the Watch has had for a long time." Sam said kindly.

The sound of heavy boots made their way back towards then, when they came to a halt looked over to see Sir Allister standing in the doorway once more, a smile painted on his face. His teeth were near perfect, but it was not a pleasant sight to behold.

"If you can pull yourself away from your lady love, the Lord Commander wants to see you."

Jon looked to Sam, trying not to show any alarm in front of Sir Allister. Sam though, had no such tact. Jon turned away from them both when Sir Allister spoke again, "You know I hear all kinds of rumours about your House Lord Snow. More and more every day."

Jon stood up straight, "I don't pay attention to rumours."

"Oh I don't know, you might like these ones." Jon watched as he moved closer. "Let's see, you know the one where your mother captured the Lannister Imp-"

"She's not my mother." Jon said, his mouth tight.

"Aye. On that you're right Lord Snow. The Bastard of Winterfell. You were a rumor all your own, once. And of course there's the one where your little lordling brother had both his legs taken clean off and now he crawls from place to place like a lame dog."

"He has his legs." Jon knew Sir Allister just wanted to get a rise out of him, but it was so hard to remain calm.

"Right. He's just a cripple is all." The words oozed from his mouth and Jon could feel the scorn like a fresh lashing. "Not a word eh? That's good Lord Snow, it's best that pups like you learn how to hold their tongue."

He moved closer until he was right before him, "I heard one about your other half brother. Seems the heir to Winterfell's been married some months now and still has no heir of his own. They say the Myrish whore he married is barren. But I like the one where they say he just can't get it up." Jon's heart began to race. He knew there would never be an heir. But he did not know that by now, the seven kingdoms knew also.

"Enough!" Jon said sternly turning around. Anything he could say about being a bastard was easily dismissed, Tyrion Lannister taught him to use it as armor. But to insult Bran and Robb was a step too far. And Ev̱gení̱s, Sir Allister didn't understand. No one understood her like Jon did. She couldn't have any children, that was a certainty, but she was so much more than that. Let it go. You have to let them all go. You have a new family now. New brothers and a new life.

Jon could see Sam watching him through the corner of his eyes. He was afraid to be sure, but more than that, Sam was pensive as his eyes moved from man to man.

Jon faced Sir Allister, his chin held high. "Are you angry with me bastard?" Sir Allister said, his smile ever lingering.

"If that is what the Lord Commander is calling me for than you can bet I won't be going to hear what he has to say."

Sir Allister laughed now, his chest huffing with enjoyment. "Oh no Lord Snow, the Lord Commander has a fresh one for you." His eyes grew bigger with glee as he said it, and Jon knew that if he did not leave now, he would kill him.

He turned around in haste, and left without a word to see the Lord Commander. The door slammed behind him and it was as though he was not in charge of his own body. He could not believe that he had escaped without hurting Sir Allister. He wanted to go back and punch him until he bled, but something held him back. It might have been his good sense, but Jon thought more than anything he just wanted to know what the new one was.

Jon could feel his stomach sinking. Tyrion Lannister had told him that the Old Bear kept letters and correspondences to himself. So if he was calling, what could he want to tell him? What news could he have? Was it news at all? His mind went to a million places at once. None of which were any more or less likely than the last. Have I done something wrong? Only one thing was certain,the smile on Sir Allister's face was more than enough to be sure that the news could not be good.

He walked through the yard without a cloak to warm him. It had been the first time since he arrived at the Wall that he did not feel or notice the cold. His looked around the yard and as he moved, each man he crossed quickly averted their eyes. Some looked to the ground perhaps in shame while other simply pretended that they did not see him. Jon reached the old wood staircase and he ran to the top, skipping steps as he went. When he finally reached the Old Bear's door Dareon stood outside.

He met Jon's eyes and suddenly Jon found himself wishing that he hadn't. He watched him with a sympathy, and when he opened the door he laid a hand on Jon's shoulder. Now Jon was truly afraid. The door closed behind him and took the light of day with it. The room was dark but for a few candles that could be seen through the hearth's smoke that filled and warmed the room. The fire itself had died and Jon knew that it was him that would have to light it again.

"Come in Snow, there's wine here for you. Drink it down and I can tell you why I had you come here." Not a day passed when Jon did not dream of a spiced wine that might fill his belly with warmth, but he knew that wine had other uses too...

"Lord Commander I prey you tell me why you called me here."

"Sit. Drink." The Old Bear said, "Then we will talk."

Jon sat down and drank the wine too quickly. This was not what they served to the men, it was the Lord Commander's personal vintage. It was stronger and the heat scorched his throat on the way down.

There was a long sigh and the Old Bear waved a scroll with a broken seal. "It's your father, Snow. Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King has been imprisoned."

Hi all,

Sorry it's been so long getting this chapter up. It's been a crazy few months over here.

In honour of Canada Day (July 1st) I just wanted to address a few messages I recieved involving the way I spell certain words. I do get my chapters edited, but some words do still get past myself and my editor. I am aware of the typos, and I appologise, but some words are intentionally spelled the Canadian way because I am Canadian.

Thanks to everyone who is still reading! Slowly but surely, I will finish the story. Please feel free to message or review. I love hearing your feedback.

Cheers,

Prosati