Nerd In the North: Season 3, Ep 9 Outline (Patreon)

Episode 9: The First RangerBenjen Stark has not yet gone beyond the Wall, having taken some time to properly train his nephew. It’s a chapter from his perspective as he walks into Lord Commander Jeor Mormont’s solar to discuss some things about the oddities beyond the Wall and the strange periods of quiet from the Wildlings.benjen stark strode into lord commander jeor mormont’s solar, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. the raven squawked from its perch near the window, fluttering its wings as mormont waved it quiet. the room was warm compared to the biting cold outside, the brazier casting a steady glow over the worn table littered with maps, letters, and empty tankards.

jeor glanced up from a missive, his brows furrowed. “benjen. sit. there’s been word.”

benjen nodded, lowering himself into the chair opposite the old bear. his eyes flicked over the papers but lingered on the lord commander’s face—weathered and grim, as always.

jeor: [gruffly] “it’s quiet beyond the wall.”

benjen: [frowning] “too quiet. the wildlings aren’t much for peace. they’ve either gone to ground or something’s driving them.”

jeor: [nodding] “word from the rangers matches your reports. Settlements abandoned, no sign of fighting. but there’s...something else.”

benjen: [leaning forward] “what?”

jeor’s face darkened, and he reached for a small scroll, unfurling it with a heavy sigh.

jeor: “the rumors. magic, monsters. one of the men swears he saw shadows moving that weren’t cast by the sun.”

benjen: [snorting] “rangers spook easy after a long ride. shadows and whispers are nothing new.”

jeor: [fixing benjen with a sharp look] “and what of maester aemon? you’ve seen him. hale as a man half his age these past weeks. he’s been muttering to himself about fire and blood. i don’t trust it, benjen. i don’t trust any of it.”

benjen didn’t reply immediately. he had noticed it, too—maester aemon, bent with age, now moving with a strange energy. his mind sharper, his voice steadier. 

it was unnatural, though he couldn’t say how.

benjen: [finally] “the old gods have been quiet for too long. maybe they’re stirring again. or maybe it’s just winter coming. everything feels strange when the snow’s this thick.”

jeor grunted, unconvinced, but let the matter rest. they spoke a while longer of patrols and provisions, of the needs of the watch, before benjen excused himself.As Benjen leaves, he thinks of Jon and makes his way over to the top of the wall and finds his nephew there, in little more than an undershirt and a cloak, the boy not seeming to feel the cold as he stares off into the North.Ghost is lying there alongside Jon, Benjen well aware that the direwolf had grown a great deal since arriving at the Wall, now nearly the height of a grown man’s shoulder.He tries to speak with Jon about his time and his training and how he’s finding the Wall and Jon answers and converses but Jon doesn’t turn to look at his uncle. as benjen made his way to the top of the wall, the cold bit at his face, but he barely felt it. his thoughts lingered on the conversation with mormont. shadows, whispers, the stirring of something beyond the wall—it gnawed at him. and then there was jon.

jon snow, his nephew, had taken to the watch with the kind of grim determination that reminded benjen too much of ned. he was talented, no doubt about it, but there was something else, something benjen couldn’t quite place.

when he reached the top, he saw jon immediately. the boy stood near the edge, barely dressed for the cold, his black cloak billowing in the wind. ghost lay beside him, his massive form like a pale shadow against the dark stone.

benjen: [calling out lightly] “jon. it’s cold enough to freeze a man’s bones up here. 

jon didn’t turn. his gaze was fixed northward, his expression unreadable.

jon: [softly] “i don’t feel it. the cold.”

benjen frowned, stepping closer.

benjen: “don’t feel it? you’ll be feeling it when you lose a finger or two to the chill. what are you doing up here?”

jon: [still not looking at him] “thinking.”

benjen: [smiling faintly, trying to lighten the mood] “dangerous habit. what’s on your mind?”

jon: [after a pause] “the north. the wall. my place here. everything feels...different lately. like i’m seeing things clearer, but they’re harder to understand.”

benjen crossed his arms, studying the boy’s profile.

benjen: “aye, the wall has a way of doing that. it’s a cold, hard place, but it teaches you to see the world for what it is. has ser alliser been riding you too hard? or is it something else?”

jon: [finally glancing down at ghost, his hand resting on the direwolf’s head] “have you ever had strange dreams, uncle?”

benjen stiffened slightly, his breath catching.

benjen: “dreams? what kind of dreams?”

jon: [softly, almost a whisper] “fire. wings. shadows. they feel real, like memories of something that hasn’t happened yet.”

benjen stepped closer, his boots crunching against the icy surface of the wall. He noticed the snow seemed to melt as it touched the boy, leaving him oddly untouched.

benjen: “jon, look at me.”

jon didn’t move at first, but slowly, reluctantly, he turned. benjen felt his breath hitch.

benjen’s mouth fell open, words escaping him as his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. he didn’t draw it, but the instinct was there.

jon’s eyes, once as dark as Eddard’s, now glowed faintly in the moonlight—purple. vivid, bright, and entirely unnatural.