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Samwell
"Maester Samwell?", a soft and shy voice asked. Sam looked up from the scroll he was reading to meet the gaze of a young alcolyt not older than ten. Too young to remember much of the war of the five kings or the war of the dawn or any other of the endless fights that came afterwards. Lucky one, thought Sam. "Yes, what is it ?", he asked back. " A raven arrived. It is addressed to you. " A shy smile graced the boy's lips. Somehow children always felt well in his near environment. Gilly said it was something that reminded her of maester Aemon, this always friendly and calm charisma. "Who send it?" The boy's smile vanished as quick as a raven's beat of wings. "It is from the Lonely Tower." Sam froze. The Lonely Tower. How he hated this name. As if the situation wasn't sad enough the people also had to start to broadcast it. But actually this should not have been surprising. Did history not show him how the people deal with something like this? The people simply needed to placate such things with names, to understand them, to recognize them and maybe also to remember them. As good as they remembered the Long Night, Sam thought bitterly. He suddenly noticed that he hasn't answered the boy yet and quickly said :"Thank you. I will go then. " The boy nodded and turned around to go back along the floor he came from.
Sam got up and stretched. His muscles felt stiff and his back hurt. The chairs in the Cidadel weren't just the comfortablest ones, which didn't contribute that he looked forward to the present task, either. But this was his duty, in more than one way, and they hadn't send a raven if it wasn't important. Sunset was only two hours away after all and they wouldn't want to risk that something happened to him while he rode in the dark. And besides he had explicitly said that he wanted to be informed if something happened.
He went to the stables and while he waited for his horse to be saddled he just wished he could go home to Gilly and little Sam, who wasn't as little with seven years as he was when he got this nickname. Five years ago were it when Gilly and little Sam and he moved to Oldtown near the Cidadel after the aftermath of the events in Kingslanding. Brandon became king, Sansa and several other lords and ladies became the liege lords of their houses and after the rest settled in, too, or at least as much as it could in such a short amount of time he finally allowed himself to be happy and to enjoy his little family and his shortly after born little Jon. Little Jon, his son with Gilly, who he named after his best friend, Jon Snow, a friend, who he tried to make laugh or at least smile again with it. And also to show him that he cared what Jon had had to do and what it had cost him. And it had cost him so much more as anyone might have guessed. So much that he again had to wonder if there were any gods at all.
When he thought about it a renewed feeling of anger creeped over him. That some had still wanted to punish him for it. A task most of them even wished to be done and besides cost no one as much as it had Jon. Weren't he so furious about it he even might have laughed about it. But there was no sense in wishing it had been otherwise. The past was written, the ink was dry like Brandon once had said to him. But despite this thoughts he nevertheless wished it could have been otherwise. I am still a fool, Jon.
As fast as he dared in the vanishing light he made way to the Lonely Tower outside the city. When he arrived there was barely any light and the last beams of the sun warmed his face. How much had he missed this, the warmth of the sun and the laughter which came with it. After almost six years of winter, one of the most exhausting and brutal ones, the summer finally showed his face.
When Sam stopped he couldn't resist the unbidden thought which crept at the surface of his mind while regarding the building in front of him. Like his name said it looked lonely and sad and he again cursed the idiot who first gave the tower its name no matter how much its suited it or not. Although newly rebuilt from an old outpost tower no one could deny the air of lonliness and misery which surrounded the tower, which was esspecially enhanced by the dark almost black stone which the tower was built off. Almost hundred foot towered it towards the sky. It was surrounded by an equally dark courtyard with high walls on which Sam could see several guards. One of them saw Sam arriving and after recognizing him gave a signal to open the gate.
When he rode inside a man expected him already. It was one of the older alcolyts, who the Cidadel was forced to provided him with, by order of the king. In the darkness he almost didn't recognized him until he came forward and walked with a hardly to miss limp. It was alcolyt Marten, one who was send to the Cidadel by his family because of an accident he had in his childhood but who himself said he would have came all by himself if it weren't for this and proved it with a mind as sharp as any valyrien blade. Marten greeted him with hardly to cover relief: " Maester Samwell, I am glad you are here. It happened again and I am afraid it is getting worse. We hardly could... " Sam interupted him. Despite his cleverness Marten often had difficulties to make him understandable or to speak in a pace you could follow him. "What happened excactly and when did it start?" , he asked while he followed Marten into the tower and up the stairs. Allthough Sam wasn't a real maester the title was bestowed on him due to his part during the Long Night and therefore most of the alcolyts had no problem with addressing him with this title or to give him respect. Though sadly this was not true for the older maesters, which was also the reason they had to take this tower with its several steps which soon made Sam gasp for air. He might be slimmer then five years ago but his condition was almost as bad as then and he had difficulties to follow the whole conversation. Luckily Marten took care to speak as understandable as possible.
" It has been only six hours ago. Like you said we send a raven immediatly after it happened. He was calm almost the whole day and I would even say that he felt well but then... Well, he started to pace through his chamber and after an hour begann to speak again about her. " Her. Daenerys. Jon's great lover. A woman who helped them saving the world only to get mad and kill innocent citiciens afterwards. A woman Jon was forced to kill himself. A woman he still loved.
Marten continued: " Of course we tried to calm him before he might get too upset but when Thomas, one of the newer alcolyts, entered he got furious. Said he wanted to murder him and in the next moment begged him to kill him. When Thomas did not answered he threatened to kill him and attacked. He tried to strangle him and to bite. We needed four men to restrain him and several of them got wounded while holding him stil. He even hurt me when I had to tie him up. "
Marten looked nervous and now Sam also recognized for the first time the scratch marks on his left cheek. " It's really getting worse", Sam said, " how is he now? "
" He calmed down after we restrained him and also gave him a little bit sweet milk. But since then he hasn't spoken a word. " Marten lead him the rest of the way until they reached a heavy dark oakendoor. A guard stand watch. " Something new? ", asked Marten. " No, everthing has been calm since you left ", the guard anwered. He then fetched a key and opened the door.
The light in the room was dimmed. Only high in the ceiling a few candles burned since one time he almost managed to get the tower on fire. He stood with the back to the visitors and looked out through the barred window. From his hands and feet hung chains which included straps of leather to spare his ankles. The light threw his shadow on the opposite wall and flickering candles let it dance which gave the whole situation a surreal and scary air.
Sam got nearer. He still hadn't turned around even though he had to notice their presence until now.
" It's me. Samwell. " Finally Jon Snow turned around. " I know. Who else should come visiting me, Sam? " His voice was quiet and rough as if he hadn't spoken in weeks. And when Sam regarded him he recognized just how bad his friend looked. He looked ill. Was skinny and his face was paler than he had ever seen it. His facial expression showed tiredness and grief and his eyes twitched nervously from one place to the other. He, too, had wounds which covered his frail form. Several marks and scretches and even with the leather straps his ankles were bloody. Obviously he had fought against his restrains. Still a fighter. It was something that gave Sam hope.
" Though you have kept your time since the last time. " Under the tiredness of his voice he noticed an acussing tone and suddenly Sam felt guilt spreading through his body. Yes, he had kept his time. He stayed longer than planed in Horn Hill to check if everything was right and to fullfill his duties as lord. He remembered how he had first tried to refuse the title but as the last living male heir and after the pleading of his sister and mother he accepted. Though first after he demanded that he could keep Gilly which they gladly accepted and that he would keep the option to divide his duty to Horn Hill and his studies in the Cidadel , which he was allowed to by order of the king. So when he started traveling between his two homes, the one in Horn Hill and the one in Oldtown it was just a matter of his own will and his strife for knowledge. But then almost a year later Jon got ill and it became a matter of duty. A duty which exhausted and saddened him more than anything else and let him dread his every return, so much that he actually had kept his time.
"Yes, I'm sorry, Jon, but you know my duties to Horn Hill are exhausting and Gilly and the children... they are... " Jon interupted his stummer. " You don't have to lie to me, Sam. I'm not as fragile as I'm looking. " He regarded Sam with his dark, sad eyes. " I know my companionships isn't the happiest one these days. " He smirked. " No, it's really just because... ", Sam tried to lie but Jon didn't let him. " It's all right, Sam. I understand. " Wasn't it ironic that when Jon sounded the most sorrowfully he reminded Sam the most of the Jon he had known? And actually now in this moment Jon was almost the boy again he met all these years ago. A glimmer went through his eyes, then, and he looked sidewards.
" Why are you here? ", he asked. Sam felt unwell. " Jon, you... you were ...ill, again. I just wanted to make sure you are ...fine ", he finished lame. Why had it always to be so difficult to speak to Jon, these days. " Ill? I am not ill. What are you speaking of? " Jon sounded amused and Sam wished nothing more than to burst into tears. Jon had already forgotten everything. Another of his many symptoms. " You know I still miss her, Sam, but you don't have to worry. I will...get over it. I always do. " Jon send him a sad little smile. Just that you don't, Jon. Not this time. And it seemed that Jon more and more forgot about this. He couldn't remember anymore what happened after the queen's death or at least what happened with him.
" Yes, of course you do ", Sam agreed since he didn't know what he could say instead.
In moments like this Sam wondered why he still kept this hope. The hope to cure his best friend from his illness. Madness, he corrected himself. Don't delude yourself, Sam. It is madness.
In the beginning, he remembered, he had held high hopes. It had been almost a year after Daenerys death and the signs were barely visible. Jon had still been in the Riverlands to help with the reconstruction, since he had refused to have anything to do with politics or Kingslanding and said he just wanted to help the people. He was accompanied by his sister Arya and Ghost and Sam had hoped that Jon might find his happyness despite everything he had gone through. Sam had considered to visit Jon and maybe also to indroduce his little Jon to his friend when he had got the letter. The letter was from Arya. First he had been pleased to hear something of his friend, since Arya had become a good friend as well after he had met her. But unfortunatly the saying dark wings dark words proofed to be true. She wrote that Jon had changed in the last two months, something she first suspected beeing part of Jon's mourning about Daenerys. He often would get angry and more melancholic, if that was even possible. Ghost started to behave similar, too. Jon would also be more absent with his mind and he often refused to eat or drink. Arya had worried about him but thought it would vanish in time until one day Jon would get a tandrum, no one knew the reason about and almost killed an innocent farmer. Sam had been worried, too, after he had read the latter. He knew that since Jon and he had met the first time that Jon had changed. He had lost most of his joy, got more serious and strict. And yes, after he had been killed and resurrected he really could say that Jon was different. He had become darker, more introvert and serched less and less company. You even could say that he had gotten more dangerous, which you could see every time his eyes turned cold as eyes or when he had to kill someone. But nevertheless Sam knew that Jon would never harm an innocent.
So he traveled to the Riverlands to see if he could help Jon. After all he knew that the last years had been hard for him. He had thought that he almost lost his whole family. He had almost lost his whole family. He lost his lover. Twice. In both cases he thought himself at fault. He lost most of his friends. Had been betrayed by his own men. Had to deal with incredible revelations about himself and his family. And the whole time he had had to burden the responsibilty over the survival of the manship. Therfore you easily could say that Jon had a lot to deal with in his life which didn't got easier if you were a man who did not dare to speak about his problems like Jon were.
After he and Jon had met things got only worse. For days he would refuse to speak or to eat. Then he would pace through his chambers like a caged animal and hiss at everyone who tried to speak with him. His tandrums would get worse and he would start to hurt himself and others, which became truelly dangerous since he and Ghost were conected and he would start behaving like his master. In the end they had had to ask if Brandon could keep guard over the shadow wolf. And after that Jon would one day start to speak about her. First only about her, then he would speak with her as if she was still alive. He would curse her, beg her, confess his love for her and apologies hundreds of times for killing her. Sometimes while doing that he would cry which was more frightening than Sam might to admitt since he had never seen Jon cry before. He later would also start to speak with his father. Both. And his mother, too. He asked them why they never told him the truth and abondened him and also begged them to follow them into their graves. That he didn't deserve to be alive anymore.
This was the moment Sam decided to take Jon away and the moment he swore to himself he wouldn't let Jon sink further into madness and death. After everything he had lost himself he could not lose his best friend, too. After all he had cured Sir Jorah Mormont of the grey scale, something the people regarded as impossible. So why shouldn't he be able to cure madness. Maybe some of the Tagaryens might have been saved, maybe even Daenerys or the Mad King.
The question now was, was the madness due to the terrible experiences Jon had to suffer from or was it because he was a Tagaryen? The same question aplyed to Daenerys, thought Sam. But even though he regretted her death, in first line because what it did to Jon, he nevertheless was greatfull that she did not became queen. Sam had to admit she had had the right heard, at least before she went mad, but he also was convinced that she would not have been such a good queen as some might have thought. She had no right understanding of people and often she had shown to much of an arrogant behaviour and confidence in the rightfulness
of her actions and her claim of the iron throne.
So after Jon's simptoms got worse he moved him to this tower in order to take care of him and cure this madness. With Brandon 's help he even got support of the Cidadel though only relucantly since no one of those old fools believed in the posebility to cure Jon. They even went so far as to suggest to fulfill Jon 's plea to just let him die which Arya reacted with righteos fury and the thread she would all slit their throats if they should ever suggest something like this again.
But even though he had never lost his hope Sam could not deny his desperation which grew over the years while Jon's mental state got worse and worse only interrupted of short moments like this in whichhe seemed to be clear minded. But even those became more seldom. Sometimes he even wasn't able to remember himself or to recognize visitors like Sam or even Arya and Sansa and Tyrion. Momentarily he believed he and Arya were the only ones who still held the hope that he would be able to rescue Jon.
" So, how are you, Sam? And Gilly and your children? ", Jon asked friendly but this time without a smile. " We are well. Little Jon has recently started to get sword training. The armorer says he has talent. " Jon looked confused. " Don't you think it is a little bit too early for this. I mean he is only two, Sam. Even Robb and I got first sword training with four. " Sam sighted. Jon might seem clear minded but this was again a reminder that he wasn't. Little Jon was five. Sam just agreed: " Maybe you are right. " After this they managed to still keep up a conversation. They spoke about olt times when they still were boys in Castle Black, about Grenn and Pyp and maybe, sometimes Jon spoke of them as if they were, too, still alive but nevertheless Sam enjoyed to pass time with his best friend. He even forgot almost that he actually was here for other reasons were it not for the chains which still graced Jon 's ankles and the fact that despite most of their conversation was pleasant Jon never smiled or laught.
They were just speaking about one of the jokes Pyp one time had made about Sir Allisar when Jon stopped midsentence and his look grew distant. Worried Sam asked: "Jon?" Jon didn't looked up. He muttered: " Ser Allissar. He... He was one of my men who murdered me, wasn't he?" Sam flinched startled. " Jon... " He didn't know what to say. Jon lifted his hands up in which the chains around his ankles rattled. He regarded them attentivly and turned his hands arround. He then liftet his gaze and let it glide through the room. Suddenly he looked old again and so so incredible sad that it almost broke Sam's heart. " Sam. I... What am I doing here, Sam? " He looked up and his eyes never shined more clearer. " You don't remember? ", Sam asked nervous. How could he forget so fast?
" No, I mean what am I am doing here, Sam? Why am I still here? What goal do you try to reach by keeping me here? " Now, Jon was absolutely conscious about him and his whereabouts. " Jon ", Sam said and truelly it was Jon , " I try to help you. " " Help me, Sam? " He didn't sound angry just terrible tired and sad. " Which help could you give me. I might know nothing but I at least know this. You can't help me and I don't want your help. We both know it. I am already dead, since a long time. I don't belong here. Melissandre should have never brought me back. I will never be the same. " Now, he almost sounded desperate. " No, this isn't right, Jon, and you know it. You still have so much to live for. Val, Tormund, your siblings. I know you can be...be cured. " He said it with as much conviction as he could muster. Jon only gave him an amused smile which didn't reach his eyes and didn't seem amused. " Sam, you're a sweet fool. Open your eyes. It's been happpening for years. " And while he said this a lonely tear run down his cheek.