#why tf is this so long?? it took forever to writeasdffvvfddss

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

There's something about this sequence of figures that gives me pause.

Those old histories are full of kings who reigned for hundreds of years, and knights riding around a thousand years before there were knights. You know the tales, Brandon the Builder, Symeon Star-Eyes, Night’s King … we say that you’re the nine-hundred-and-ninety-eighth Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, but the oldest list I’ve found shows six hundred seventy-four commanders […] Jon II, ADWD

GRRM is such a meticulous writer that I’m inclined to think there’s a reason why these three figures, in particular, are mentioned. And there’s a reason why they seem to culminate in Jon.

Brandon the Builder

Though Jon does not carry the Stark name, he carries their legacy, one that dates back to the Long Night. For he now holds the combined titles of King of Winter...

Jon is the only brother that remains to me. Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North.  Catelyn V, ASoS

“I am the Lord of Winterfell,” Jon screamed. Jon XII, ADWD

...and Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

So Jon Snow took the wineskin from his hand and had a swallow. But only one. The Wall was his, the night was dark, and he had a king to face.  Jon XII, ASoS

Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those. Jon VII, ADWD

This combination of legacies—the Wall’s chief steward and a king in the north—coincidentally parallels the infamous Night’s King, who may or may not have been a Stark as well (but we’ll get to that later).

But more than leadership, Jon’s inheritance may lie in magic itself. The Wall, imbued with the magic that Brandon the Builder wove into its foundation, does more than stand as a barrier. It affects those who stay within its shadow, e.g., Maester Aemon and Melisandre. But no other character has as deep a connection to the Wall’s magical properties as Jon Snow:

“Every man who walks the earth casts a shadow on the world. Some are thin and weak, others long and dark. You should look behind you, Lord Snow. The moon has kissed you and etched your shadow upon the ice twenty feet tall.”  Jon glanced over his shoulder. The shadow was there, just as she had said, etched in moonlight against the Wall.  Jon VII, ADWD

The connection runs so deep that the Wall seems to reflect Jon himself, almost like a mirror:

Jon had given his chief captive the largest cell, a pail to shit in, enough furs to keep him from freezing, and a skin of wine. It took the guards some time to open his cell, as ice had formed inside the lock. Rusted hinges screamed like damned souls when Wick Whittlestick yanked the door wide enough for Jon to slip through. A faint fecal odor greeted him, though less overpowering than he'd expected. Even shit froze solid in such bitter cold. Jon Snow could see his own reflection dimly inside the icy walls. Jon X, ADWD

The Wall's dual properties—functioning as both a mirror and a shield—bring Serwyn of the Mirror Shield to mind, who is positioned as a narrative parallel to Symeon Star-Eyes.

Symeon Star Eyes

Like Brandon the Builder, Symeon Star-Eyes has been celebrated for thousands of years, even being co-opted by the Andals as a knight, despite living long before chivalry came to the Seven Kingdoms. This highlights a fascinating parallel with Jon, a knight who isn’t one in truth.

According to legend, Symeon lost his eyes (though we’re not told how), and afterwards, he placed star sapphires in the empty sockets.

“Symeon Star-Eyes,” Luwin said as he marked numbers in a book. “When he lost his eyes, he put star sapphires in the empty sockets, orso the singers claim. Bran, that is only a story, like the tales of Florian the Fool. A fable from the Age of Heroes.” The maester tsked. “You must put these dreams aside, they will only break your heart.”  Bran VII, AGoT

These sapphire eyes evoke creatures of ice, often distinguished by their blue eyes which shine as brightly as the stars. This includes the Others:

“What gods?” Jon was remembering that they’d seen no boys in Craster’s Keep, nor men either, save Craster himself.  “The cold gods,” she said. “The ones in the night. The white shadows.” […] “What color are their eyes?” he asked her. “Blue. As bright as blue stars, and as cold.” Jon III, ACoK

Their wights:

And suddenly Jon was back in the Lord Commander’s Tower again. A severed hand was climbing his calf and when he pried it off with the point of his longsword, it lay writhing, fingers opening and closing. The dead man rose to his feet, blue eyes shining in that gashed and swollen face. Ropes of torn flesh hung from the great wound in his belly, yet there was no blood. Jon III, ACoK

The corpse queen, who may or may not have been a female Other:

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Bran IV, ASoS

And, the legendary ice dragons:

Of all the queer and fabulous denizens of the Shivering Sea, however, the greatest are the ice dragons. These colossal beasts, many times larger than the dragons of Valyria, are said to be made of living ice, with eyes of pale blue crystal and vast translucent wings through which the moon and stars can be glimpsed as they wheel across the sky. Whereas common dragons (if any dragon can truly be said to be common) breathe flame, ice dragons supposedly breathe cold, a chill so terrible that it can freeze a man solid in half a heartbeat. The Shivering Sea, The World of Ice and Fire

Given the scant information about him, we don’t know who—or what—Symeon Star-Eyes was. Yet, through his eyes, he holds a connection to the North and its ice magic, a legacy Jon has a share in.

Both Jon and Symeon Star-Eyes are Other-adjacent; Symeon with his blue eyes which shine as stars and Jon with his black armor made of ice.

“Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice […] Jon XII, ADWD

A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Prologue, AGoT

Holistically, Jon and Symeon’s associations with these creatures might be positioning them as figures with the ability to leverage northern magic—much like Bran the Builder and his ice Wall.

It’s quite intriguing how the Wall serves as a conduit through which Jon is linked to various elements of Northern mysticism. Symeon’s blue eyes are not only reminiscent of the Others but also share similarities with the Wall itself.

Finally he looked north. He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal [...] Bran III, AGoT

By the time Jon left the armory, it was almost midday. The sun had broken through the clouds. He turned his back on it and lifted his eyes to the Wall, blazing blue and crystalline in the sunlight. Even after all these weeks, the sight of it still gave him the shivers. Centuries of windblown dirt had pocked and scoured it, covering it like a film, and it often seemed a pale grey, the color of an overcast sky … but when the sun caught it fair on a bright day, it shone, alive with light, a colossal blue-white cliff that filled up half the sky.  Jon III, AGoT

Earlier, I noted that the Wall serves a dual function, acting as both a mirror and a shield for Jon. It was then that I referenced Ser Serwyn of the Mirror Shield.

Like Symeon Star-Eyes, Serwyn was a First Man whose legend was later co-opted by the Andals. Songs often portray him as a knight, though he existed long before knighthood came to Westeros. But Serwyn's legend goes even further, for later traditions cast him as a knight of the Kingsguard.

And besides the legendary kings and the hundreds of kingdoms from which the Seven Kingdoms were born, stories of such as Symeon Star-Eyes, Serwyn of the Mirror Shield, and other heroes have become fodder for septons and singers alike. Did such heroes once exist? It may be so. But when the singers number Serwyn of the Mirror Shield as one of the Kingsguard—an institution that was only formed during the reign of Aegon the Conqueror—we can see why it is that few of these tales can ever be trusted.The septons who first wrote them down took what details suited them and added others, and the singers changed them—sometimes beyond all recognition—for the sake of a warm place in some lord's hall. In such a way does some longdead First Man become a knight who follows the Seven and guards the Targaryen kings thousands of years after he lived (if he ever did).The legion of boys and youths made ignorant of the past history of Westeros by these foolish tales cannot be numbered. Ancient History: The Age of Heroes

Serwyn of the Mirror Shield’s most significant act was the slaying of the dragon Urrax, which he accomplished by blinding the beast.

Legend has it that during the Age of Heroes, Serwyn of the Mirror Shield slew the dragon Urrax by crouching behind a shield so polished that the beast saw only his own reflection. By this ruse, the hero crept close enough to drive a spear through the dragon’s eye, earning the name by which we know him still. Fire & Blood

Since Serwyn was a First Man who lived during the Age of Heroes, I doubt that Urrax was one of the fire-breathing dragons from the Valyrian Empire, which came to be much later. I wonder, then, if Urrax was an ice dragon—and if Serwyn struck out its crystal-blue eye.

I find it fascinating that Serwyn used a spear to remove a dragon’s eye, while Symeon Star-Eyes was said to wield a point-tipped staff. These weapons, both tied to the theme of sight, suggest a deeper connection between these figures, even if we don’t know exactly when they lived or if their paths intersected. What’s particularly telling is that Sam is cut off—by Jon, no less—before he can finish his thoughts on the distortion of history, and how much of it has been lost, obscured, or inaccurate…

Until we know more, we can only speculate. But the thread spins back to Symeon, whose eyes were as blue as the ice dragons’, and Jon Snow, who often compares his blue ice Wall to those legendary creatures.

The road beneath the Wall was as dark and cold as the belly of an ice dragon and as twisty as a serpent. Jon VIII, ADWD

The snowfall was light today, a thin scattering of flakes dancing in the air, but the wind was blowing from the east along the Wall, cold as the breath of the ice dragon in the tales Old Nan used to tell.  Jon X, ADWD

This links back to Serwyn, whose mirror shield, used to slay what may have been an ice monster, parallels Jon’s Wall of ice.

But Serwyn of the Mirror Shield is not the only narrative parallel to Symeon Star-Eyes. Many times, Symeon is mentioned alongside another knight, one who actually bore the white cloak of the Kingsguard: Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.

“True knights would never harm women and children.” The words rang hollow in her ears even as she said them.  “True knights.” The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. “No doubt you’re right. So why don’t you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I’m sure it won’t be very long now.” Sansa V, ACoK

“Wylla.” Lord Wyman smiled. “Did you see how brave she was? Even when I threatened to have her tongue out, she reminded me of the debt White Harbor owes to the Starks of Winterfell, a debt that can never be repaid. Wylla spoke from the heart, as did Lady Leona. Forgive her if you can, my lord. She is a foolish, frightened woman, and Wylis is her life. Not every man has it in him to be Prince Aemon the Dragonknight or Symeon Star-Eyes, and not every woman can be as brave as my Wylla and her sister Wynafryd … who did know, yet played her own part fearlessly.  Davos IV, ADWD

There’s an intriguing duality of ice and fire in Symeon Star-Eyes being mentioned alongside the Dragonknight. Jon stands to inherit elements of both their legacies: as a First Man like Symeon, he has a connection to the ice magic of the North, and like Aemon the Dragonknight, he embodies the roles of Valyrian prince, a warrior of fire, and a commander of knights all at once.

This particular aspect of one hero having multiple faces, so to speak, lends itself to other fascinating groupings:

Dunk stared at the grassy lists and the empty chairs on the viewing stand and pondered his chances. One victory was all he needed; then he could name himself one of the champions of Ashford Meadow, if only for an hour. The old man had lived nigh on sixty years and had never been a champion. It is not too much to hope for, if the gods are good. He thought back on all the songs he had heard, songs of blind Symeon Star-Eyes and noble Serwyn of the Mirror Shield, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, Ser Ryam Redywne, and Florian the Fool. They had all won victories against foes far more terrible than any he would face. But they were great heroes, brave men of noble birth, except for Florian. And what am I? Dunk of Flea Bottom? Or Ser Duncan the Tall? The Hedge Knight

Through Aemon the Dragonknight and Ser Ryam Redwyne, we move beyond the mythical lone heroes of the Age of Heroes—such as Serwyn and Symeon Star-Eyes, who lived thousands of years ago—and into the more recent icons of Westeros’ history. As Lord Commanders of the Kingsguard and in Ryam’s case, Hand of the King, we see a balance of legendary heroism told through songs and the real-world responsibility of leading men. They highlight the dual—and often difficult—nature of heroism that requires both valor and duty.

And Jon himself looked toward Ser Ryam and the Dragonknight, heroes who inspired his childhood games and shaped his earliest ideals of heroism and valor.

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” and Jon would reply, “I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.”  Jon XII, ASoS

This creates a fascinating roadmap for Jon, who right now needs to save the world as a warrior (Azor Ahai) and a commander (leader of the broader night’s watch—which encompasses all men, for all cloaks and banners turn black once darkness settles in). The way the individual legacies of Serwyn, Symeon Star-Eyes, Aemon the Dragonknight, and Ser Ryam Redwyne converge in Jon Snow suggests that his journey extends beyond mere physical labor in the coming mystical war from the North.

Ser Ryam’s reign was short-lived, and his abilities as a ruler are often questioned. While some may argue that his brief and flawed tenure mirrors Jon’s time as Lord Commander, this comparison feels misplaced. Context is key! Jon quickly follows in Ser Ryam’s footsteps as a leader, becoming Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch within a chapter. Thus, his role as ruler of the realm may still lie ahead. And this naturally leads us to the final figure in Sam's sequence of legends: the infamous Night’s King.

The Night’s King

So far, we’ve explored the parallels Jon shares with figures celebrated for their valor. But in Martin’s world, nothing is black and white. While Brandon the Builder and Symeon Star-Eyes are remembered as heroes, the Night’s King introduces a grey area—showing that reputation, especially over time, exists on a spectrum.

I often hesitate to position Jon as a Night’s King figure, largely because the fandom tends to approach this idea from a one-dimensional lens, often portraying him as a tyrannical villain. Such a framing completely misses the complexity of Jon's arc. He has always been a hero, and while he may forsake certain vows, like the Night’s King of legend, he does so out of necessity, not selfish ambition. His journey has been about redefining what it means to protect the realm, even if that means stepping outside the bounds of traditional 'honor'.

In ASoS, Jon begins to grasp the idea of a ‘bastard’s honor’—a flexible moral code that defies society’s rigid expectations. Like his father, who stained his honor to save his sister’s son, or Jaime Lannister, who became a kingslayer to protect King's Landing, Jon learns that true honor sometimes means defying societal norms. Doing the right thing may force him to break from the Night’s Watch’s rigid vows, especially when they no longer serve the greater good.

Jon’s evolving understanding of honor reaches a new complexity in ADWD, as he navigates what it means to lead a ‘neutral’ institution that ultimately relies on the southern lords for resources—especially the Boltons and Lannisters. The Boltons, who now occupy Winterfell, have betrayed the true meaning of the castle as a protector of the North. Winterfell—'where winter fell'—is in enemy hands, with the Boltons as human monsters in the South, mirroring the mythical threats Jon faces from the North. Meanwhile, the Lannisters, still claiming to be 'Protector of the Realm', have done more harm than good.

This balancing act between neutrality and political involvement reaches its breaking point in Jon’s final ADWD chapter, when he makes the fateful decision to march south against Ramsay Bolton. The result is mutiny and his assassination. But this is not where his story ends—he will return, and his resurrection will force him to reflect on what it truly means to be a ‘defender of the realm'. Jon's choice—a rejection of neutrality—will kickstart a decisive shift in his arc, as he begins to involve himself in the affairs of his Stark family, further linking him to the legacy of the Night’s King, who was likely a son of Winterfell as well.

As Jon was resolute in marching south in part due to Arya, so too was the Night’s King enticed to break his vows for a daughter of the North.

As the sun began to set the shadows of the towers lengthened and the wind blew harder, sending gusts of dry dead leaves rattling through the yards. The gathering gloom put Bran in mind of another of Old Nan’s stories, the tale of Night’s King. He had been the thirteenth man to lead the Night’s Watch, she said; a warrior who knew no fear. “And that was the fault in him,” she would add, “for all men must know fear.” A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. Bran IV, ASoS

Jon’s 'corpse queen' can take many forms, but Arya is the strongest parallel if we see her as a catalyst for major change.

While Arya is no Other, she shares Jon’s Northern roots and strong magical ties. In many ways, she’s a reimagined 'corpse queen'—a 'bitch from the seventh hell' who is becoming an agent of death, bonded to a direwolf named after a witch-queen.

But the theme of a woman presenting temptation to this king of the night doesn’t end with Arya, for Melisandre tempts Jon time and time again.

In the shadow of the Wall, the direwolf brushed up against his fingers. For half a heartbeat the night came alive with a thousand smells, and Jon Snow heard the crackle of the crust breaking on a patch of old snow. Someone was behind him, he realized suddenly. Someone who smelled warm as a summer day. When he turned he saw Ygritte. She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander’s Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon’s heart leapt into his mouth. “Ygritte,” he said. “Lord Snow.” The voice was Melisandre’s. Surprise made him recoil from her. “Lady Melisandre.” He took a step backwards. “I mistook you for someone else.” At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. “You will freeze your fingers off,” Jon warned. […] Jon glanced over his shoulder. The shadow was there, just as she had said, etched in moonlight against the Wall. A girl in grey on a dying horse, he thought. Coming here, to you. Arya. He turned back to the red priestess. Jon could feel her warmth. She has power. The thought came unbidden, seizing him with iron teeth, but this was not a woman he cared to be indebted to, not even for his little sister. […] “You do not believe me. You will. The cost of that belief will be three lives. A small price to pay for wisdom, some might say … but not one you had to pay. Remember that when you behold the blind and ravaged faces of your dead. And come that day, take my hand.” The mist rose from her pale flesh, and for a moment it seemed as if pale, sorcerous flames were playing about her fingers. “Take my hand,” she said again, “and let me save your sister.” Jon VI, ADWD

Melisandre, with her foreign magic and public sacrifices to her terrifying red god, is deeply mistrusted by the Night’s Watch brothers. And Jon’s growing association with her, as many suspect a sexual relationship, contributes to his rapidly declining reputation. Though he has thus far rejected Mel’s advances, Jon will come to realize through death that he should have leaned into her power. She warned him of 'daggers in the dark', but he ignored her and lost his life for it. Now, her blood magic may be the key to bringing him back, and it could be through this that Jon 'loses his soul'—just as the Night’s King did long ago—by becoming one of the undead.

But there is still a third woman who may take on the role of Jon’s 'corpse queen': Val, the wildling princess.

When they emerged north of the Wall, through a thick door made of freshly hewn green wood, the wildling princess paused for a moment to gaze out across the snow-covered field where King Stannis had won his battle. Beyond, the haunted forest waited, dark and silent. The light of the half-moon turned Val’s honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. “The air tastes sweet.” Jon VIII, ADWD

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely. Jon XI, ADWD

Unlike his aversion to Melisandre, Jon is drawn to Val. While Mel represents temptation toward a foreign power, Val is Jon’s anchor to the North—icy and rooted in the old magic. Interestingly, both are linked to royalty: Mel, once a slave, is seen as Stannis' true queen, while Val, a wildling, is still called a princess. In this way, both evoke the idea of the corpse queen—a woman outside Westerosi norms, yet still recognized as a queen.

Beyond his relationships with these women, Jon’s arc in Dance is a delicate balance between his duties as Lord Commander and the actions of a King in the North. By letting the wildlings south of the Wall and arranging marriage alliances, Jon blurs the lines of a neutral institution, fueling the black brothers’ dissatisfaction and leading to their mutiny. This duality within him—blurring the lines between the Watch, Winterfell, and the wildlings—parallels his growing association with the Night's King.

But unlike the Night’s King, who aligned with the Others and forsook his vows, Jon’s prophetic dream (Jon XII, ADWD) suggests he may have to become king to save the realm. This once again highlights the need for a more flexible moral code.

… and woke with a raven pecking at his chest. “Snow,” the bird cried. Jon swatted at it. The raven shrieked its displeasure and flapped up to a bedpost to glare down balefully at him through the predawn gloom. The day had come. It was the hour of the wolf. Soon enough the sun would rise, and four thousand wildlings would come pouring through the Wall. Madness. Jon Snow ran his burned hand through his hair and wondered once again what he was doing. Once the gate was opened there would be no turning back. It should have been the Old Bear to treat with Tormund. It should have been Jaremy Rykker or Qhorin Halfhand or Denys Mallister or some other seasoned man. It should have been my uncle. It was too late for such misgivings, though. Every choice had its risks, every choice its consequences. He would play the game to its conclusion. He rose and dressed in darkness, as Mormont’s raven muttered across the room. “Corn,” the bird said, and, “King,” and, “Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow.” That was queer. The bird had never said his full name before, as best Jon could recall. Jon XII, ADWD

Jon waking from this glimpse of destiny during the hour of the wolf speaks volumes. This period, marking the darkest part of the night before dawn, is a fitting symbol for Jon as he stands atop the Wall, battling the creatures of darkness. It also recalls Cregan Stark’s brief but pivotal tenure as Hand of the King, when he resettled the realm after a devastating war. How Jon’s own rule will unfold is uncertain—will he reign as King of Winter before stepping aside, in line with the Oak King and Holly King myth, or serve as regent to a young king, like Cregan and Ser Ryam did?

Whatever path he takes will redefine the legacy of the Night’s King. It will coincide with his role as a 'corn king'—a figure who symbolizes the cyclical turning of the seasons, from winter to spring, from death to life. Jon will be a force for good, a symbol of hope. This theme of renewal also connects him to Brandon the Builder, a figure defined by creation and the promise of new beginnings.

Jon’s journey could encompass many roles: the lone hero like Symeon Star-Eyes, the necessary but harsh leader during the Long Night like the Night’s King, or the creator of a new era like Brandon the Builder. His story will come full circle, and perhaps he will stand as the 1000th Lord Commander when it does, marking a new chapter in the legacy of the Watch—and the realm itself.