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"BROTHERS."
Carsen glanced up, the hand holding her wooden spoon stilling. Jon stood at the head of the breakfast hall, hands behind his back, looking tired but driven. Behind him, Thorne watched him with bright, narrow eyes, and Slynt smirked into his stew. It made Carsen uneasy. Jon cleared his throat, but the chattering din continued, until Grenn rolled his eyes, seized an empty bowl and slammed it down on the table several times.
Quiet settled over the hall, and all eyes turned expectantly to Jon, who seemed to shrink a bit under the sudden scrutiny, but he squared his shoulders, swallowed, and spoke; "I'm going north of the Wall, to Craster's Keep. I'm going to capture the mutineers holed up there. Or kill them. I'm asking for volunteers to come with me. There's sixty miles of wilderness between here and Craster's, and Mance Rayder has an army bearing down on us, but we have to do this. Our survival may depend on us getting to these mutineers before Mance does. They know the Wall, they know our defences; if Mance learns what they know, we're lost."
The dark hall was silent - barely anybody seemed to even breathe. Carsen could feel the cold fear in the air like a fog, and bit her lip hard. Fear thrives in the blackness, she told herself, and the serpent does not shy from the dark.
"But if that's not enough, then consider this," Jon continued. "If the Night's Watch are truly brothers, then Lord Commander Mormont was our father. He lived and died for the Watch - and he was betrayed by his own men, stabbed in the back by cowards. He deserved far better. All we can give him now is justice. Who will join me?"
A ringing silence met the end of the question. A cough in the back of the room. A creak of wood as someone turned around to see if anyone was standing. And, just when Carsen's legs were seizing up, preparing to declare herself, there was a scrape of wood-on-wood, and Grenn stood up. He nodded at Jon, looking more sombre than Carsen had ever seen him. Edd stood next, and then a large man Carsen had no name for, and another, and Thorne's eyes were darkening, his horn of ale lowering incredulously, and Locke, the bearded man Carsen had seen Jon talking to. More and more stood, and finally Carsen found it in herself to do the same, pushing her chair back. Jon's eyes found her's through the dust and light, grey as soft rain, as smoke, and Carsen smiled a little. The pallid sunlight caught on his face as he did the same.
Jon looked at Locke. "I... can't let a recruit come north of the Wall."
Locke raised a dark brow. "But you'd take a woman?" he asked, nodding to where Carsen stood. She looked at him sharply, opening her mouth to retort, but Sam beat her to it.
"Carsen took her vows," he told Locke loudly. "She's a man of the Night's Watch, same as any of us, and she's... bloody well proven it."
