The Provenance || Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

2.06

"My father was Ned Stark.  I have the blood of the First Men.  My ancestors lived here, same as yours," Jon refuses to believe his wrongdoing in this matter, which is truly a correct statement.  Sure, Jon Snow has done nothing personally against these people; he has yet to declare war against them.  No, the only thing the bastard of Winterfell has done to spite these men and women is think they're any different than him...any less deserving of the Wall's protection.

And that's what has Ygritte asking, "So why are you fighting us?"

And that's what begins the tale of Jon's wildling misadventure.

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    "The War of Five Kings, they're calling it.  My legacy will be determined in the coming months," Tywin Lannister's diplomatic voice touches the edges of the Harrenhal room, his startling eyes digging deep into those of his serving girl, a true picture of knowledge.  "Do you know what legacy means?  It's what you pass down to your children and your children's children.  It's what remains of you when you're gone.  Harren the Black thought this castle would be his legacy.  The greatest fortress ever built.  The tallest towers, the strongest walls.  The Great Hall had 35 hearths.  Thirty-five.  Can you imagine?  Look at it now.  A blasted ruin.  Do you know what happened?"

    The girl looks at him with her startlingly intelligent, grey eyes and offers her best guess, trying to remember these southern tales around those of the north, "Dragons?"

"Yes.  Dragons happened," Tywin acquiesces, turning his eyes to the window where the scarred and shattered remains of the fortress lay witness to history.  "Harrenhal was built to withstand an attack from the land.  A million men could have marched on these walls, and a million men would have been repelled.  But an attack from the air with dragon fire.  No, Harren and all his sons roasted alive within these walls.  Aegon Targaryen changed the rules.  That's why every child alive still knows his names."

It leaves Arya Stark wondering this leader's intentions---whether he intends to 'change the rules' against her brother: to slaughter him like Aegon did Harren.  She has to hide her shiver under those daring Lannister eyes, but her skin nonetheless prickles at the potential of this war, and the horror that people may come to see.  She has no doubt, in that moment, that the rules of warfare will be changed in this War of the Five Kings--whether or not Tywin is the one to implement them.  And that is a terrifying thought to the weak Arya Stark.

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    Sandor listens and then watches warily as the girl--Sansa Stark--approaches him from the other reach of the corridor, her feet not nearly as loud as his, but perceivable all the same.  At first, he is forced to wonder where her protector--Gabrielle Baelish--is, for these two are certainly rarely apart.  But given the hour of the day, nearly dusk, the Hound assumes Gabrielle's gone back to the brothel, where she'll await his presence shortly.

    Sandor Clegane expects Sansa to continue past him, to avoid his lingering gaze in the fear she obviously holds of his character.  But instead, those pretty blue eyes of the Tully line turn to meet his own as they go to pass, and she stops in her tracks, forcing him to do as much as she says, "I beg pardon, ser.  I should have come to you after to thank you for saving me.  You were so brave."

    Sansa tries to hold her posture steady as the man's scowling face turns into something both malicious and amused, his voice like a true bark of a hound as he responds, "Brave?  A dog doesn't need courage to chase off rats."

    She wonders why this sudden change, for Sandor Clegane has clearly shown his potential for kindness, first on the barracks where Joffrey first had her beat, and then in his return for her yesterday when there was no need.  So, her eyes narrow at his intentions, wondering wildly why this man is choosing to scare her, and ultimately failing to do so, as she asks, "Does it give you joy to scare people?