Gigi

The real issue is that the place is extremely cold at night this time of year, and there’s soooo much fog 🥹 To make things worse, my dad is being stubborn about his pickup truck and wants to take his sports car instead...

Neither Friday nor Saturday, the chapter ended up being posted today, Sunday 😅

“How many are speaking of the succession?” she asked. “Few. For now.” Jon frowned. “No one has cause.” “Causes can be invented,” Robb said. “You presented as an alpha, you have the Stark look, you are a few months older than I am, and you are bonded to Sansa. For certain men, that is enough to begin a story. It is not an organized cause yet. That is precisely the danger. No one knows what shape the division will take.” He knew some of those men. They had taught them both to stand watch, pitch a tent, and hold a shield beneath the rain. When Robb passed, they straightened and called him “my lord.” When Jon passed, the respect came before the title he did not possess. Envy came unbidden. Robb had been prepared for Winterfell since childhood. He had sat beside Ned while stewards recited the costs of grain and horseshoes. He had learned which houses owed men for the patrols, which bridges needed repairs before the thaw, and how long a wall could wait for new stone. He knew levies, harvests, marriages, debts, and the small disputes that could grow until they demanded blood. Jon had trained with the same men and walked the same yards, but had never been summoned to audiences as the heir. Even so, certain soldiers looked at him with a certainty Robb never received without the weight of name and rank. Jon needed no record to look like a Stark. He did not need to sit at Ned's right hand for men to follow him across the yard and listen when he corrected a stance. Robb did not envy his chains, his bastardy, or the wounds still bleeding beneath Luwin's cloths. He envied only that, and felt shame enough to know it was true.

I’ll post chapter 8 tomorrow, chapter 9 on Sunday, and perform some black magic to somehow post chapter 10 before I travel on Monday 🫠

Those of you who have been following me for a long time may remember that the last time I went there was when I disappeared from this social network for the longest time 😂 The signal is terrible, and most of the time I can only use whatsapp.

The pain came so suddenly that Jon looked at the manacle on his left wrist, certain the iron had caught flesh beneath its edge. There was no fresh blood. The pressure came from elsewhere, and yet his body recognized it: fingers closing around a forearm, balance giving way, the ground seeming to shift, too little air entering the lungs. Then came the fear. Jon rose as far as the chains allowed. The scent of pine, iron, and smoke filled the wagon before he realized he was releasing it. The horses whinnied. One of the animals drawing the wagon tried to leave the track, and a wheel struck a stone hard enough to throw him against the wall. There was another alpha. Jon did not know how he knew. Perhaps it was only Sansa’s reaction crossing the bond. Perhaps his own body recognized what his mind could not see. The presence seemed close to her, strong enough to provoke pressure, restraint, and a violent urgency to drive it away. Someone was holding Sansa. Or Jon believed someone was. Perhaps she was trying to pull away. The sensation around her arm tightened again, followed by a surge of panic that hollowed out his chest. Jon yanked the chain without thinking. The eyebolt groaned in the wood. “Stop!” Hallis shouted from outside. The horses slowed in disorder. Boots struck the ground, men spoke over one another, and someone ordered the reins held fast. When the canvas was raised, hard light poured in, making Jon narrow his eyes. Hallis stood before him with his sword still sheathed, while Desmond and Olyvar remained farther back, both armed. “Has any message come from Winterfell?” Jon asked. Hallis studied his face. “No.” “Something happened to Sansa.” None of the men laughed. “What did you feel?” Hallis asked. “Someone held her. She lost her balance. There is an alpha near her.” Jon heard the certainty in his own voice and hated it, because he could support it with nothing another man could see. “Or that is how it seems. I have no way of knowing while you carry me in the opposite direction.”

As I’ve mentioned before, Crown of Lies and Whispers of Obsession were two fics I wrote without any planning whatsoever. I only knew what the main plot of each story would be and how they would end. It was only this year that I finally sat down and planned them out chapter by chapter, and then realized that each one would need around twenty more chapters for me to wrap everything up.

With Winter Is Coming, I had already created a detailed plan covering everything that needed to happen, because it is by far my most demanding fic. Technically, it follows canon — it’s basically The Winds of Winter written from the perspective of someone who ships Jonsa 😂 So I decided everything: what would happen, the characters’ arcs, all of it... buuut I never made a chapter-by-chapter outline.

Today, I had some free time, and what did I decide to do? Let’s plan Winter Is Coming chapter by chapter...

Guys, according to my calculations, Winter Is Coming needs to have AT LEAST F.O.R.T.Y MORE CHAPTERS. And that’s with me thinking I was pretty convenient in certain parts and rushed through some of the plot.

I just realized I hadn’t mentioned here that I posted a new chapter hahahahaha 😂

Jon passed beyond the walls; she could feel it. The bond stretched and began to weaken, not all at once but with every advance, like a voice growing softer as it receded down a corridor. His stupor mingled with Sansa’s own anguish, making it difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. She remained there, following him as best she could, held motionless by the suffering and pain that accompanied him, until the blackness beyond the windows took on its first shade of grey. Catelyn entered shortly afterward. She wore the previous night’s gown beneath a dark cloak, and her hair had been pinned without its usual care. A few red strands had escaped at her temples. Her mother had not slept. Sansa rose. “Where is Jon?” “He was sent to Castle Black, under Benjen’s charge.” There was no lie about consent, no attempt to pretend that Jon had chosen to leave. Even so, the answer was not enough. “My father announced that he would leave before dawn. I want to know why no one told me the hour, why my door was locked, and why they had to sedate him.” Catelyn looked at the maid. “Leave us.” The woman hurried out. Only after the door had closed, this time without the key turning, did Catelyn answer. “Robb, Luwin, and I knew he was leaving. None of us knew that Ned meant to use dreamwine or have him chained. Jory came to find me after the escort had already passed through the gates.” It took Sansa a moment to comprehend the word. Distance had weakened Jon, but she could still feel him, heavy and confused, moving north while iron held him fast. “Chained?” “Shackles on his wrists and ankles.” Something icy opened within her, colder than the floor beneath her feet. She imagined Jon’s injured hands closed around the chains, though she did not know whether he was conscious enough to try to move them.

Well, everyone, continuing the comparison between Jon Snow in the books and Jon Snow in the show, we have now reached A Clash of Kings and the second season of Game of Thrones. As with the first book, the broad events seem quite similar when summarized: Jon takes part in the Great Ranging, meets Craster, discovers what happens to his sons, reaches the Fist of the First Men, accompanies Qhorin Halfhand, meets Ygritte, spares her life, and ends up infiltrating the wildlings after killing Qhorin. The arc is still recognizable, but this time the changes to his personality are even more significant because the show does not limit itself to removing thoughts that would have been difficult to adapt. It changes the causes and consequences of several of Jon’s decisions, and that directly changes how the audience interprets his character.

The show preserves the character’s moral core. Jon is still brave, compassionate, loyal to the Night’s Watch, troubled by injustice, and willing to risk his own life. The problem is not that they turned Jon into someone without honor or intelligence. What happens is that the adaptation begins to associate some of his best qualities, especially compassion and moral independence, with recklessness, naivety, and failure. At the same time, it removes many of the scenes that showed his capacity for reflection, observation, and leadership. The result is a television Jon who seems more impulsive and less prepared than the Jon in the book, even when both are arriving at the same destination.

Jon’s ambition and the weight of Robb as king

One of the most important omissions occurs in Jon’s very first chapter. In the book, he learns that Robb has been proclaimed King in the North and has to deal with a mixture of pride, love, envy, and resentment. Jon sincerely says that Robb will be a good king, but he cannot avoid comparing the two of them. Robb will have a crown, a wife, children, lands, and recognition, while Jon will live in black, serving an order that will probably never sing of his accomplishments. Mormont sees this and uses the story of Maester Aemon, who refused the Iron Throne in order to honor his vows, as a way of confronting him.

When Mormont asks Jon to say that none of it troubles him, he does not try to pretend that he is completely selfless. His answer is:

“Be troubled. And keep my vows.”

This is a very short line, but it explains a great deal about the difference between book Jon and show Jon. The literary Jon is not honorable because he has stopped feeling envy, ambition, or a desire for recognition. He still feels all of those things. The honor lies in his decision not to let those feelings control his actions. Jon does not need to believe that his vows are easy or that Robb’s life does not seem more desirable. He can be troubled, admit that he is troubled, and still remain.

The show removes this conversation entirely, and with it an important part of Jon’s ambition disappears. On television, his ambition appears mainly when he tries to leave his position as a steward and take part in the rangers’ missions. He wants to prove that he knows how to fight, that he has already faced a wight, and that he can be useful beyond caring for Mormont’s horse and meals. That exists in the book as well, but the book shows that the issue runs deeper. Jon does not merely want a more interesting role within the Watch. He is still trying to determine whether a life of anonymous service will be enough for someone who grew up wanting to be recognized as Eddard Stark’s son.

Without the conversation about Robb and Aemon, the viewer may interpret Jon’s eagerness to accompany Qhorin as simple courage, impatience, or a desire for adventure. The reader knows that there is also a conflict involving status. Jon respects stewards, but still considers rangers more important. He respects his vows, but knows that Robb will receive everything he can never have. The show keeps his ambition visible, but removes the self-criticism that accompanies it. The literary Jon understands that he has contradictory feelings. The television Jon merely seems to be trying to prove his worth to his superiors.

Jon’s relationship with Sam reveals a warmer character in the book

Another important difference lies in his relationship with Sam. The show preserves their friendship, but greatly reduces the moments in which Jon displays humor, patience, and an ability to reassure another person. In the book, when he finds Sam hidden among the books, he jokes:

“Sam, you are a sweet fool.”

Later, when Sam says that a brother of the Night’s Watch should not be so afraid, Jon answers:

“We’re all afraid. We’d be fools if we weren’t.”

Jon does not try to convince Sam that the danger is minor. He acknowledges that they are all afraid and turns that fear into something normal, rather than a source of shame particular to Sam. He then recalls what Ned taught him:

“My father taught me that there is no shame in fear; what matters is how we face it.”

It is a simple demonstration of emotional leadership. Jon knows that Sam does not need a lie about them being completely safe. He needs to know that being afraid does not make him inferior to other men.

The show still presents Jon as Sam’s protector, but much of their everyday companionship disappears. Because almost all of his scenes are connected to a mission, an argument, or a dangerous situation, the television Jon seems far more closed off. The character is naturally reserved, but the book allows him to joke, smile, observe his friends, and adapt the way he speaks according to the person before him. In the show, there is less of that variation. He speaks to Mormont, Sam, Craster, Qhorin, and Ygritte with almost the same seriousness.

This has a considerable effect on the audience’s perception. Readers may consider Jon introspective, but they are unlikely to see him as merely brooding. He can be affectionate, ironic, and even childish. Viewers of the show receive a more consistently melancholy version, which helps create the image of the serious hero but also makes part of his personality seem simpler.

Craster: prudence in the book, impulsiveness in the show

The difference becomes much clearer at Craster’s Keep. In the book, Jon discovers the fate of the sons through his conversation with Gilly. He notices that there are no boys or other men there, listens to what she says about the “cold gods,” and connects her description of blue eyes with the wights who attacked Castle Black. Jon does not break into anywhere, secretly follow Craster, or get caught spying. After the Night’s Watch leaves the keep, he approaches Mormont and asks him directly about the sacrifices.

Before that, when Sam tries to devise a way to save Gilly, Jon reacts with irritation because he knows they have neither the authority nor the means to take her with them. Even so, after walking away, he thinks:

“Then why do I feel so ashamed?”

The question is important because Jon is not satisfied with his own answer, even though he knows it is rational. He understands that taking Gilly could endanger the mission, provoke Craster, and compromise a source of shelter and information the Watch needs. At the same time, he also understands that using those justifications does not make abandoning her morally comfortable. Jon does not solve the problem. He recognizes that the problem exists and that being unable to help does not erase his emotional responsibility.

In the show, the discovery is turned into a suspense sequence. Jon follows Craster at night, sees the baby being taken, is discovered, and is struck down. Craster threatens to expel the entire Watch, and Mormont has to manage the consequences of his steward’s disobedience. The scene is effective at showing the viewer directly what happens to the sons, but it greatly changes Jon’s characterization. In the book, he reaches the truth through observation, empathy, and deduction. In the show, he reaches it because he ignores orders, spies on an ally, and nearly compromises the mission.

Afterwards, both versions receive a similar lesson from Mormont. The Night’s Watch knows that Craster is monstrous, but it needs him. His keep has already saved rangers, and there are greater threats to the north. In the book, Jon thinks:

“Other wars. Yes. I must remember that.”

He does not come to consider Craster acceptable, but he understands Mormont’s argument. The lesson is not that injustice has ceased to matter. It is that a commander does not have the freedom to act solely according to his own indignation when hundreds of lives depend on the consequences.

In the show, the same idea appears as a more direct correction of Jon’s insubordination. Mormont has to remind him that he is a steward, that he wants to lead one day, and that before he can do that he must learn to obey. This reinforces a pattern the season creates for the character: Jon sees something morally wrong, acts immediately, and only afterwards discovers that the situation was more complicated. Book Jon is also idealistic, but he is considerably more prudent. He waits until they have left the keep, speaks to Mormont in private, and listens to the answer before deciding what to think.

The change benefits Mormont, because it makes him seem more experienced and responsible, but weakens Jon. In the book, the conversation is between a morally troubled young man and a pragmatic commander. In the show, it is also a reprimand delivered to a boy who created an unnecessary problem. The viewer learns that Jon needs to control his impulsiveness. The reader learns that Jon needs to accept the limits of power and the moral cost of an institution.

Jon’s practical intelligence is far more visible in the book

There are also several small scenes in which the book demonstrates a practical intelligence that the show barely uses. When they reach the Fist of the First Men, the officers are pleased with the elevated position and the ancient defenses. Jon, however, immediately notices a weakness:

“A long climb for a drink [...] and outside the ringwall.”

It is a simple observation, but a very significant one. The more experienced men are thinking about walls, slopes, and possible attacks. Jon thinks about supplies and the fact that any man fetching water will have to leave the defensive position. He is not trying to seem clever or challenge the officers. He simply notices a problem the others have overlooked.

Later, Mormont asks his opinion about keeping the rangers close to the Fist. Jon answers that if they always remain nearby, they will never find Benjen. Mormont has already reached the same conclusion and explains that he intends to let Benjen find the large camp, if he is still alive. The most important point is that the Lord Commander asks Jon’s opinion and expects an honest answer. He does not treat the boy as merely a servant.

These scenes begin to build the future commander before Jon holds any formal position. He thinks about logistics, notices weaknesses, observes the men’s behavior, understands Sam’s fear, and can speak to Mormont without simply repeating what he imagines the commander wants to hear. In the show, Jon displays courage and initiative, but he is rarely given opportunities to demonstrate this kind of reasoning. When he wants to accompany Qhorin, he has to argue that he has already killed a wight. The value being presented is primarily martial.

Qhorin recognizes Jon’s potential earlier in the book

In the book, Qhorin chooses Jon. Mormont even points out that he is young, a steward, and not officially a ranger, but Qhorin insists. In the show, Jon volunteers and has to persuade his superiors to let him take part. The difference seems small, but it changes the dynamic. In the book, one of the most experienced men in the Night’s Watch observes Jon and decides that he has some useful quality. In the show, Jon is once again trying to prove that he deserves an opportunity.

This does not mean that book Jon is already ready to lead. He remains inexperienced and, in several situations, does not fully understand what the older men are doing. The difference is that Mormont and Qhorin already recognize in him a potential that goes beyond skill with a sword. The show delays that recognition. The viewer sees a young man who wants to become a ranger. The reader sees experienced men beginning to prepare a possible leader.

Ygritte and the removal of Jon’s cultural education

Jon’s relationship with Ygritte is probably the most important change of the entire season. In the book, Jon accompanies Stonesnake on a climb to the wildling lookout post. He takes part in the attack, kills a man in combat, and captures Ygritte. Therefore, his later difficulty in executing her does not come from a general inability to kill. Jon has already killed when his own life and the mission were at risk. The problem is deliberately killing a prisoner who has surrendered.

During the night, Jon talks to Ygritte and listens to the story of Bael the Bard. She presents a version of Stark history that he has never heard, talks about the free folk, and questions the way the people south of the Wall organize the world. When Ygritte explains that Winterfell lies in the South to the wildlings, Jon answers:

“I suppose it all depends on where you’re standing.”

This line shows an important characteristic of Jon that the show reduces: he is capable of listening to a perspective that contradicts everything he has learned. He does not automatically accept the story of Bael as truth, but neither does he end the conversation by simply calling Ygritte an ignorant wildling. He asks questions, corrects what he believes is wrong, and at the same time admits that certain classifications depend on the position from which one looks.

Their closeness in the book begins through culture, stories, and identity. There is attraction, but it is not yet the center of the relationship. Ygritte presents Jon with a different view of the wildlings, and he begins to understand that the people known as the free folk are not merely an army of raiders. They are people with songs, their own versions of history, families, beliefs, and contradictions.

In the show, much of the story of Bael is removed. Jon and Ygritte’s time together is built primarily around sexual teasing. She realizes that he is a virgin, makes fun of his discomfort, presses her body against his, and questions the sense of a young man renouncing women. The scenes create chemistry and work very well at making the relationship entertaining, but they change what Ygritte represents at that point.

In the book, she begins by challenging Jon’s political and cultural worldview. In the show, she begins by challenging his sexual repression and seriousness. The literary Jon displays curiosity and an ability to reconsider his prejudices. The television Jon displays innocence, repressed desire, and difficulty dealing with a woman who controls the conversation.

Jon’s mercy is a moral decision in the book and a mistake in the show

The decision to spare Ygritte also takes on a completely different meaning. In the book, Qhorin says that they have no food for a prisoner and no men available to guard her. Jon understands that he has to execute her, raises Longclaw, and cannot complete the stroke. He tells Ygritte to run. When he tells Qhorin the truth, he expects to be condemned, but the ranger explains that he did not give a direct order. He wanted to see what Jon would decide.

Qhorin says:

“To lead men, you must know them, Jon Snow. And I know more of you now than I did this morning.”

Qhorin does not say that Jon necessarily made the ideal decision, but he makes it clear that the mission’s survival did not depend on Ygritte’s death. He says that if he had truly needed her dead, he would have done it himself or left her with another ranger. The choice functions as a test of character. Qhorin wanted to know what Jon would do when given a responsibility without an absolutely clear instruction.

In the show, sparing Ygritte begins a chain of failures. Jon hesitates, she runs, he pursues her, the two of them become separated from the group, and they are eventually captured. Qhorin’s companions die, and Jon believes it happened because they went back to look for him. The narrative turns mercy into an operational failure. He does not merely spare a prisoner; he loses control of her, abandons his position, and places his brothers in danger.

This difference profoundly changes the way the audience understands Jon. For the reader, the decision shows that he can kill in combat but has a moral limit when faced with someone who has surrendered. Qhorin uses that information to understand him better. For the viewer, the decision demonstrates kindness, but also naivety and a lack of discipline. His compassion remains admirable, but it is presented as something that must be controlled because it can get other people killed.

I do not think the show is saying that Jon should simply kill any prisoner. The problem is the way it constructs the consequences. The literary Jon’s mercy neither prevents him from returning to the group nor causes the deaths of his brothers. The television Jon’s mercy is directly tied to his capture and the destruction of the mission. As a result, the reader tends to see moral independence. The viewer tends to see a good young man who still does not understand that good intentions can produce disasters.

The change also weakens the character’s intelligence. In the book, Jon takes Ygritte’s axe away, keeps the prisoner under guard, questions her, and then makes a conscious decision. In the show, he allows her to manipulate him, escape his custody, and lure him away from his companions. The show could have preserved Jon’s compassion without turning him into an incompetent guard, but instead uses her escape to create the necessary separation between him and Qhorin.

Ghost and Jon’s supernatural dimension were almost entirely removed

Another very important omission is the supernatural bond with Ghost. In the book, Ghost is not merely a faithful animal. He senses danger, leads Jon to the cache of dragonglass, and functions as an extension of his identity. It is the direwolf who finds the bundle buried near the Fist, containing knives, spearheads, obsidian arrowheads, and an ancient horn, all wrapped in a black cloak of the Night’s Watch. In the show, this discovery is transferred to Sam, Grenn, and Edd after Jon has already left with Qhorin.

The change strengthens Sam’s connection with knowledge and dragonglass, but takes from Jon a discovery that was directly connected to Ghost’s behavior. In the book, there is a sense that the direwolf knows more than Jon himself and is trying to lead him toward something important. In the show, Ghost remains a valuable companion, but his function is much closer to that of an exceptional animal than to a supernatural part of Jon.

This becomes even clearer when the wolf dream is removed. In the book, Jon falls asleep and begins to see through Ghost. During the dream, he senses the other direwolves and the family’s separation:

“There were five where there should have been six, and they were scattered, each apart from the others.”

Then he sees Bran in the form of a weirwood, observes Mance’s enormous camp, the giants and the mammoths, and is attacked by the skinchanger’s eagle.

When he wakes, Jon insists that it was only a dream, but Qhorin corrects him:

“A wolf dream.”

He takes the vision seriously and asks Jon to recount everything. The rangers do not treat the experience as a childish fantasy, because they already know that ancient powers are returning.

This passage ties Jon much more closely to the magical element of the story. He is not merely an honorable bastard who becomes a leader. He is also someone connected to the old gods, the direwolves, Bran, and the return of powers the Night’s Watch does not yet understand. The reader sees that Jon occupies an intermediate position between several identities: Stark and bastard, man and wolf, crow and wildling, the political world and the supernatural world.

The second season removes almost all of this. Without the dream and without Ghost’s discovery, the television Jon seems much more conventional. His importance lies in honor, courage, and his political future, not in a supernatural ability that is beginning to awaken. To those who only watch the show, Ghost may seem primarily like a Stark symbol and a companion in battle. To those who read the books, the bond between them is already beginning to change Jon’s own perception of the world.

Jon accepts the infiltration mission among the wildlings more consciously in the book

Qhorin also has a deeper role in the book. He is not merely a great ranger who leads Jon on a mission and then sacrifices himself. He observes Jon from the moment he chooses him. He tests his physical ability, his obedience, his judgment, and his reaction to Ygritte. After the wolf dream, he immediately accepts that the information may be true and changes the course of the mission.

When he realizes that they will not be able to escape, Qhorin clearly explains what Jon must do. He orders him to surrender, join the wildlings, tear his cloak to pieces if necessary, curse the Night’s Watch, and pretend to be an oathbreaker. What matters is that he remain loyal within and discover what Mance is searching for in the mountains. Jon accepts reluctantly, but his greatest concern is that Mormont know the truth. He asks:

“I will do as you say [...] But [...] you will tell him that I never broke my vows.”

This line reveals that Jon still depends heavily on the judgment of father figures. He accepts that the wildlings, and perhaps the entire Night’s Watch, may believe he is a traitor, but he needs to imagine that Mormont will know he remained loyal. Jon can sacrifice his public reputation, but he is not yet ready to live entirely without the validation of someone he respects.

The show preserves the general plan, but compresses it and makes it less clear. Qhorin realizes that Jon can infiltrate the wildlings, begins insulting him in front of them, and provokes the fight that will end in his own death. The strategic purpose is present, but the season places much greater emphasis on Jon’s guilt and trauma. He has killed a mentor, must pretend that he betrayed his brothers, and believes the entire situation began because he could not execute Ygritte.

In the book, Jon is also deeply shaken, but he understands what Qhorin is doing. When the fight ends, he thinks:

“He knew. He knew what they would ask of me.”

The death is not an accident provoked by anger or a genuine defeat for Qhorin. It is the final step of a mission that had been explained beforehand.

This gives Jon greater responsibility. He is not merely manipulated into reacting. He must consciously accept the order to appear a traitor, fight Qhorin, and continue living after killing him. The show makes the scene more emotionally immediate because Jon appears surrounded, guilty, and desperate. The book makes the situation more complex in relation to duty. Jon knows that his public honor will be destroyed and accepts it because true honor, at that moment, consists of carrying out a mission that no one may ever recognize.

The book shows Jon learning; the show shows Jon making mistakes

In the book, therefore, Jon’s arc is built primarily as an education in leadership. He acknowledges that he envies Robb, but keeps his vows. He helps Sam understand fear. He discovers Craster’s crimes without compromising the mission. He notices the water problem at the Fist. He listens to Ygritte’s story and admits that point of view changes one’s understanding of the world. He is tested by Qhorin, begins to discover his connection with Ghost, and accepts appearing dishonorable in order to serve the Night’s Watch.

In the show, the arc is built more clearly as a lesson about impulsiveness. Jon follows Craster, is discovered, and has to be reprimanded. He insists on joining Qhorin’s mission. He spares Ygritte, loses the prisoner, becomes separated from his companions, and is captured. He then has to turn his own failure into an opportunity for infiltration. This structure is more direct and perhaps easier to follow on television, because each mistake has a visible consequence. However, it also makes Jon seem less competent.

Book Jon needs to learn that leadership requires accepting morally imperfect situations, knowing one’s men, controlling his own ambition, and distinguishing true honor from reputation. The Jon of the second season needs, above all, to learn to obey and not allow his impulses to damage a mission. Both are still maturing, but they are not starting from exactly the same place.

The show turns some of Jon’s best qualities into problems

There is also a change in the way his goodness is presented. In the book, Jon can be compassionate and still be prudent. He can help Sam without lying about the danger, worry about Gilly without dragging the entire Night’s Watch into a conflict, and spare Ygritte without being captured because of it. In the show, the same qualities frequently cause problems. His indignation over Craster creates a crisis. His mercy toward Ygritte leads to his separation from the group. His desire to take part in the action ends with companions dead.

This begins to create a perception that will follow the character through much of the adaptation: Jon is a good man, perhaps too good for the world he lives in, but he is not always intelligent in the way he applies his principles. In the books, the perception is different. Jon can make wrong decisions, but his morality is not separated from his intelligence. He observes, argues, adapts, and learns quickly.

The show has not removed all of Jon’s intelligence or completely turned him into the character who, in the later seasons, seems to repeat statements about honor without analyzing the situation. But the simplification begins here. The second season eliminates the conversation about Robb and Aemon, reduces his relationship with Sam, turns the discovery about Craster into an act of disobedience, removes the strategic observations, changes the encounter with Ygritte, removes the story of Bael, transfers the dragonglass to Sam, and eliminates the wolf dream.

What remains is the brave, honorable, compassionate, and determined young man. What begins to disappear is the ambitious boy who knows he is jealous, the friend capable of understanding Sam’s fear, the observer who notices logistical flaws, the listener who reconsiders his own point of view, the potential skinchanger, and the future leader whom men such as Mormont and Qhorin have already begun to recognize.

So, what is the real difference?

To those who watch the show, Jon probably seems like a good-hearted young man who still needs to control his impulsiveness and gain experience. His main quality is honor, and his main weakness is his failure to understand that the world demands hard decisions. To those who read the book, he seems more aware of his own contradictions. He remains young and inexperienced, but already displays political intelligence, leadership ability, and a genuine willingness to learn from different people.

I would say that the greatest difference is that the show presents Jon’s maturation as the correction of his mistakes, while the book presents that maturation as an expansion of his understanding. The television Jon needs to learn not to act before thinking. The literary Jon needs to learn that thinking more carefully does not make decisions easier and that, sometimes, understanding every side only makes duty heavier.

Well, this has already become far too long. As in the previous post, the translations I made are from the Portuguese quotations in the edition of the book I used for my reading, so they may differ in other editions.