Post by stdaga on Aug 22, 2018 5:36:00 GMT
I would say that it is commonly accepted that when Jon flexes his sword hand, it has become a habit for him, based on the advice he received from Maester Aemon to work his sword hand and keep it flexible and strong. I myself thought this for years. It makes sense. We see it develop in the text from Game all the way through Dance. But on a reread almost two years ago, I noticed something in the text that made me question why Jon does what he does. But first, let's look at Jon's actions with his hand.
Bear with me while I pull several quotes from the text in relation to Jon and his sword hand.
A Game of Thrones-
The initial burns.
This is the aftermath. Jon flexes his fingers at this time, and mentions Aemon, who seems to mention scars but mentions nothing about exercises to keep the hand limber. This is the chapter that Jon is given Longclaw and we are presented with him having to hold the blade initially with his left hand as his right hand is bandaged and unable to hold the sword.
Now, we get all the instances in the text of Jon flexing his sword hand. And it's often.
Jon has just quarreled with Sam, shoved him to the ground and fled Castle Black in desertion of his vows. Jon is under some stress. He flexes his hand, but gives no thought to exercise. Even so soon after his burns, and with no thought to therapy, he is exhibiting behavior that I think is instinctual. A stress reaction, with the hand flex as at outlet for that stress. He does think about his burns and bandages, but no thought to therapy.
A Clash of Kings-
This is the first time that Jon gives any credit to Maester Aemon's advice, and it's also a time when Jon is not under any sort of strain or stress. He is rational at this point, and the fact that Aemon gave him therapy advice is apparent. I don't doubt that Aemon did give Jon good advice, I just question how much of Jon's actions during times of stress or anger or threat are because of Aemon's advice.
Some thoughts of therapy, but Jon is uneasy, and it's that unease that triggers the exercise. They are looking for wildlings and all they find are empty villages. He thinks his hands are ugly and he thinks of mussing Arya's hair, and he is sad to think he might never muss her hair again. And he flexes his hand. I think it's a stress reaction to his surroundings and thoughts of Arya, but Jon does give some thought to therapy for his hand. This seems to me to be a combination of stress and therapy.
This seems an obvious stress reaction to what they are facing by trying to find and stop Mance. Instinctual reaction to stress is to open and close his fingers.
Here we have Jon on the fist, he is remembering the night of the wight attack on Castle Black and he feels the night smells the same. And he flexes his fingers, I assume of his sword hand, although it doesn't state. This is undoubtedly stressful for Jon, but this action of squeezing his hands until they tingle seems more of a therapy reaction than a stress related one.
Jon and Qhorin are all that is left of the expedition into the Frostfangs and Jon is certain he is facing death. He wants to face it bravely. He instinctually opens and closes his burned hand. I don't think this is therapy. I think this is an internal stress reaction, and while he is flexing his burned hand, I don't think the action has anything to do with a learned therapy behavior. And who can blame him, he is facing his own mortality. He has no idea what plan Qhorin has set into motion, and that he will be asked to kill this man he so admires.
A Storm of Swords:
Jon's first view of the great wildling camp. There are more fires than Jon can count, more wildlings than he could imagine. And he feels worry and stress. And his sword hand opens and closes. And it's almost as if Jon is giving his fingers credit for the activity, not a conscious decision on his part.
Here we have Rattleshirt threatening Jon with a torture fit for Gregor Clegane men, and Jon sword hand opens and closes. A response to a threat or stressful situation.
Jon is understanding that his duty might be to kill Mance, a man who he is beginning to admire. He prays to his father's gods that the task will not fall to him. But he know it might ... and he flexes the fingers on his sword hand. Now, this might be stress, but it could be in preparation of using his sword hand on Mance. This might have to do with Aemon's teachings, but it could just be what Jon does when facing stress.
This seems like a clear stress reaction to being called a liar. Jon doesn't like that at all.
This is a clear stress reaction to how Jon thinks Ygritte would view his true duty. He is not flexing his hand in preparation to grab his sword and kill her, he is finding an outward release for his internal stress. It's his tell, his outward sign of internal reaction, and he has been doing it for three books now.
Jon is looking down on the wildling host from the wall, he tells us that swords would not come into it up here, but still, he flexes his sword hand. His stress reaction, his tell.
Jon is processing a lot here. He has been accused of being a traitor, he thinks it all relates to his bastard blood. He feels he has failed Ned, that he has failed Ygritte, and now he is faced with having the task of killing Mance, knowing that if he succeeds he will face a terrible and slow death. And he flexes his sword hand. Who can blame him? He has a lot of stress to internalize here. No wonder his tell rears up to alert us of how he is feeling.
However, Jon is aware of what he is doing and gives credit for it to Maester Aemon, even reporting that the habit had become a part of him. But I question that it was part of him long before Aemon's advice.
A Dance with Dragons-
It can't be easy to tell Stannis no. A stress reaction from Jon, I think. Jon is certainly not going to pull a sword on Stannis, so no reason to exercise his sword hand at this time.
This seems a stress response to watching Mel force the wildlings to feed pieces of weirwood to the fires. It has nothing to do with preparing his sword hand as far as I can tell.
Not a stress reaction, as there is no indication that Jon feels stress. No, he clearly blames this on the cold, and is flexing his fingers to warm them up. I am not sure this is even therapy related, as most people flex their fingers when they get cold. Keeps them limber, gets the blood flowing. It almost makes me miss winter...
It's possible that Jon is still stressed about Mel and her fires. It's also possible that some instinct is trying to tell Jon not to drink the mulled wine that Clydas prepares.
Stress. These asshat's won't listen to his plan, they won't understand his plan.
Stress. Anger from Jon. Asshat's again!!! The fingers open and close in reaction to all the enmity in the room.
Clear stress related to Arya, to his role as Lord Commander, his lack of friends (even though he pushed them away), thinking about all he had lost.
Jon thinks of Mel's words. He feels the cold wind. This is also a stress reaction, although it could be flexing his sword hand in preparation for the fight he feels is coming. This is another instance were the sword hand almost acts on his own, outside of Jon's conscious action.
He flexes his sword hand, he opens and closes his fist. We have a very stressed and worried Jon Snow. Just getting the Pink Letter and all the threats it contained, his worry for Arya, his thinking of Robb with snowflakes melting in his hair (this get's me teary eyed every damn time), of Bran's fall, of Rickon's laughter, memories of Sansa and Arya. This might be the most stressed we see of Jon. Facing all that he has lost, and thinking perhaps he must to do something for them. This action is clearly about his family and not about the Night's Watch. But it seems like this is all stress related and has no bearing on an immediate battle.
This opening and closing of his fingers is Jon's tell. And I think he had it before this, although there is no indication in the text. But, we have two Starks who do the same thing as Jon does, and they certainly never had Maester Aemon to teach this response to them.
Back to A Game of Thrones-
In the black cells, Ned has to face that he is most likely going to die, but something is left unfinished for him. And it's Jon. This elicits a stress response from Ned that is very, very like what we see Jon do for the course of the series.
"His fingers opening and closing helplessly". When I first noticed this action by Ned, i nearly came out of my chair. I was surprised but not terrible shocked after I thought about it. Jon is very like Ned, some of that is instinctual and some of it is learned behavior. It just was one more connection between Jon and Ned. However, it did make me question Jon's actions with flexing his hand, and perhaps that this was something Jon learned long before he met Aemon Targaryen.
Then, in the same reread, I noticed this-
What? Robb is opening and closing his fingers during a deeply stressful situation. He has just survived his first battle, has watched his friends killed in battle, he might even be wearing their blood ... And he opens and closes his fingers.
Just like we recently seen Ned do. And like we will watch Jon do for the whole length of the series.
So, I question that Jon's actions of flexing his hand, opening and closing his fingers, that involve stress or anger have anything to do with Aemon's advice. Oh, I think it was good advice, and I do think Jon does put it to use several times in the story when he is not feeling stress, but when Jon is stressed, angry, feels cornered ... I think that is something he learned from either watching Eddard Stark, or it is perhaps a built in the genetic scheme of being a Stark. I think Robb either learned or inherited this habit from Eddard, too!
Same action, same type of circumstances! Of course, I am prepared for people to think I am crazy. But it's something I can't unsee now that I seen the same actions in Jon, Ned and Robb!
Sorry for the length, but I think all the quotes and looking at the situations help determine the cause of the response!
Bear with me while I pull several quotes from the text in relation to Jon and his sword hand.
A Game of Thrones-
Jon tried to shout, but his voice was gone. Staggering to his feet, he kicked the arm away and snatched the lamp from the Old Bear's fingers. The flame flickered and almost died. "Burn!" the raven cawed. "Burn, burn, burn!"
Spinning, Jon saw the drapes he'd ripped from the window. He flung the lamp into the puddled cloth with both hands. Metal crunched, glass shattered, oil spewed, and the hangings went up in a great whoosh of flame. The heat of it on his face was sweeter than any kiss Jon had ever known. "Ghost!" he shouted.
The direwolf wrenched free and came to him as the wight struggled to rise, dark snakes spilling from the great wound in its belly. Jon plunged his hand into the flames, grabbed a fistful of the burning drapes, and whipped them at the dead man. Let it burn, he prayed as the cloth smothered the corpse, gods, please, please, let it burn. AGOT-Jon VII
Spinning, Jon saw the drapes he'd ripped from the window. He flung the lamp into the puddled cloth with both hands. Metal crunched, glass shattered, oil spewed, and the hangings went up in a great whoosh of flame. The heat of it on his face was sweeter than any kiss Jon had ever known. "Ghost!" he shouted.
The direwolf wrenched free and came to him as the wight struggled to rise, dark snakes spilling from the great wound in its belly. Jon plunged his hand into the flames, grabbed a fistful of the burning drapes, and whipped them at the dead man. Let it burn, he prayed as the cloth smothered the corpse, gods, please, please, let it burn. AGOT-Jon VII
Mormont frowned. "A dead man tried to kill me. How well could I be?" He scratched under his chin. His shaggy grey beard had been singed in the fire, and he'd hacked it off. The pale stubble of his new whiskers made him look old, disreputable, and grumpy. "You do not look well. How is your hand?"
"Healing." Jon flexed his bandaged fingers to show him. He had burned himself more badly than he knew throwing the flaming drapes, and his right hand was swathed in silk halfway to the elbow. At the time he'd felt nothing; the agony had come after. His cracked red skin oozed fluid, and fearsome blood blisters rose between his fingers, big as roaches. "The maester says I'll have scars, but otherwise the hand should be as good as it was before."
"A scarred hand is nothing. On the Wall, you'll be wearing gloves often as not."
"As you say, my lord." It was not the thought of scars that troubled Jon; it was the rest of it. Maester Aemon had given him milk of the poppy, yet even so, the pain had been hideous. At first it had felt as if his hand were still aflame, burning day and night. Only plunging it into basins of snow and shaved ice gave any relief at all. Jon thanked the gods that no one but Ghost saw him writhing on his bed, whimpering from the pain. And when at last he did sleep, he dreamt, and that was even worse. In the dream, the corpse he fought had blue eyes, black hands, and his father's face, but he dared not tell Mormont that. AGOT-Jon VIII
"Healing." Jon flexed his bandaged fingers to show him. He had burned himself more badly than he knew throwing the flaming drapes, and his right hand was swathed in silk halfway to the elbow. At the time he'd felt nothing; the agony had come after. His cracked red skin oozed fluid, and fearsome blood blisters rose between his fingers, big as roaches. "The maester says I'll have scars, but otherwise the hand should be as good as it was before."
"A scarred hand is nothing. On the Wall, you'll be wearing gloves often as not."
"As you say, my lord." It was not the thought of scars that troubled Jon; it was the rest of it. Maester Aemon had given him milk of the poppy, yet even so, the pain had been hideous. At first it had felt as if his hand were still aflame, burning day and night. Only plunging it into basins of snow and shaved ice gave any relief at all. Jon thanked the gods that no one but Ghost saw him writhing on his bed, whimpering from the pain. And when at last he did sleep, he dreamt, and that was even worse. In the dream, the corpse he fought had blue eyes, black hands, and his father's face, but he dared not tell Mormont that. AGOT-Jon VIII
This is the aftermath. Jon flexes his fingers at this time, and mentions Aemon, who seems to mention scars but mentions nothing about exercises to keep the hand limber. This is the chapter that Jon is given Longclaw and we are presented with him having to hold the blade initially with his left hand as his right hand is bandaged and unable to hold the sword.
Now, we get all the instances in the text of Jon flexing his sword hand. And it's often.
Jon raised the hood of his heavy cloak and gave the horse her head. Castle Black was silent and still as he rode out, with Ghost racing at his side. Men watched from the Wall behind him, he knew, but their eyes were turned north, not south. No one would see him go, no one but Sam Tarly, struggling back to his feet in the dust of the old stables. He hoped Sam hadn't hurt himself, falling like that. He was so heavy and so ungainly, it would be just like him to break a wrist or twist his ankle getting out of the way. "I warned him," Jon said aloud. "It was nothing to do with him, anyway." He flexed his burned hand as he rode, opening and closing the scarred fingers. They still pained him, but it felt good to have the wrappings off. AGOT-Jon IX
Jon has just quarreled with Sam, shoved him to the ground and fled Castle Black in desertion of his vows. Jon is under some stress. He flexes his hand, but gives no thought to exercise. Even so soon after his burns, and with no thought to therapy, he is exhibiting behavior that I think is instinctual. A stress reaction, with the hand flex as at outlet for that stress. He does think about his burns and bandages, but no thought to therapy.
A Clash of Kings-
"You can wield Longclaw despite the pain?"
"Well enough." Jon flexed his fingers, opening and closing his fist the way the maester had shown him. "I'm to work the fingers every day to keep them nimble, as Maester Aemon said." ACOK-Jon I
"Well enough." Jon flexed his fingers, opening and closing his fist the way the maester had shown him. "I'm to work the fingers every day to keep them nimble, as Maester Aemon said." ACOK-Jon I
This is the first time that Jon gives any credit to Maester Aemon's advice, and it's also a time when Jon is not under any sort of strain or stress. He is rational at this point, and the fact that Aemon gave him therapy advice is apparent. I don't doubt that Aemon did give Jon good advice, I just question how much of Jon's actions during times of stress or anger or threat are because of Aemon's advice.
By day they followed game trails and streambeds, the "ranger's roads" that led them ever deeper into the wilderness of leaf and root. At night they camped beneath a starry sky and gazed up at the comet. The black brothers had left Castle Black in good spirits, joking and trading tales, but of late the brooding silence of the wood seemed to have sombered them all. Jests had grown fewer and tempers shorter. No one would admit to being afraid—they were men of the Night's Watch, after all—but Jon could feel the unease. Four empty villages, no wildlings anywhere, even the game seemingly fled. The haunted forest had never seemed more haunted, even veteran rangers agreed.
As he rode, Jon peeled off his glove to air his burned fingers. Ugly things. He remembered suddenly how he used to muss Arya's hair. His little stick of a sister. He wondered how she was faring. It made him a little sad to think that he might never muss her hair again. He began to flex his hand, opening and closing the fingers. If he let his sword hand stiffen and grow clumsy, it well might be the end of him, he knew. A man needed his sword beyond the Wall. ACOK-Jon II
As he rode, Jon peeled off his glove to air his burned fingers. Ugly things. He remembered suddenly how he used to muss Arya's hair. His little stick of a sister. He wondered how she was faring. It made him a little sad to think that he might never muss her hair again. He began to flex his hand, opening and closing the fingers. If he let his sword hand stiffen and grow clumsy, it well might be the end of him, he knew. A man needed his sword beyond the Wall. ACOK-Jon II
"The Night's Watch is only a shadow of what we were, and who remains to oppose the wildlings besides us? The Lord of Winterfell is dead, and his heir has marched his strength south to fight the Lannisters. The wildlings may never again have such a chance as this. I knew Mance Rayder, Jon. He is an oathbreaker, yes . . . but he has eyes to see, and no man has ever dared to name him faintheart."
"What will we do?" asked Jon.
"Find him," said Mormont. "Fight him. Stop him."
Three hundred, thought Jon, against the fury of the wild. His fingers opened and closed. ACOK-Jon III
"What will we do?" asked Jon.
"Find him," said Mormont. "Fight him. Stop him."
Three hundred, thought Jon, against the fury of the wild. His fingers opened and closed. ACOK-Jon III
This seems an obvious stress reaction to what they are facing by trying to find and stop Mance. Instinctual reaction to stress is to open and close his fingers.
There is, thought Jon, remembering the night in the Lord Commander's chambers. It smells like death. Suddenly he was not hungry anymore. He gave his stew to Grenn, who looked in need of an extra supper to warm him against the night.
The wind was blowing briskly when he left. By morning, frost would cover the ground, and the tent ropes would be stiff and frozen. A few fingers of spiced wine sloshed in the bottom of the kettle. Jon fed fresh wood to the fire and put the kettle over the flames to reheat. He flexed his fingers as he waited, squeezing and spreading until the hand tingled. The first watch had taken up their stations around the perimeter of the camp. Torches flickered all along the ringwall. The night was moonless, but a thousand stars shone overhead. ACOK-Jon IV
The wind was blowing briskly when he left. By morning, frost would cover the ground, and the tent ropes would be stiff and frozen. A few fingers of spiced wine sloshed in the bottom of the kettle. Jon fed fresh wood to the fire and put the kettle over the flames to reheat. He flexed his fingers as he waited, squeezing and spreading until the hand tingled. The first watch had taken up their stations around the perimeter of the camp. Torches flickered all along the ringwall. The night was moonless, but a thousand stars shone overhead. ACOK-Jon IV
"Do you remember the words of your vow?"
"Yes." They were not words a man was like to forget. Once said, they could never be unsaid. They changed your life forever.
"Say them again with me, Jon Snow."
"If you like." Their voices blended as one beneath the rising moon, while Ghost listened and the mountains themselves bore witness. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."
When they were done, there was no sound but the faint crackle of the flames and a distant sigh of wind. Jon opened and closed his burnt fingers, holding tight to the words in his mind, praying that his father's gods would give him the strength to die bravely when his hour came. It would not be long now. The garrons were near the end of their strength. Qhorin's mount would not last another day, Jon suspected. ACOK-Jon VIII
"Yes." They were not words a man was like to forget. Once said, they could never be unsaid. They changed your life forever.
"Say them again with me, Jon Snow."
"If you like." Their voices blended as one beneath the rising moon, while Ghost listened and the mountains themselves bore witness. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."
When they were done, there was no sound but the faint crackle of the flames and a distant sigh of wind. Jon opened and closed his burnt fingers, holding tight to the words in his mind, praying that his father's gods would give him the strength to die bravely when his hour came. It would not be long now. The garrons were near the end of their strength. Qhorin's mount would not last another day, Jon suspected. ACOK-Jon VIII
A Storm of Swords:
The world was grey darkness, smelling of pine and moss and cold. Pale mists rose from the black earth as the riders threaded their way through the scatter of stones and scraggly trees, down toward the welcoming fires strewn like jewels across the floor of the river valley below. There were more fires than Jon Snow could count, hundreds of fires, thousands, a second river of flickery lights along the banks of the icy white Milkwater. The fingers of his sword hand opened and closed. ASOS-Jon I
The wildling leader fixed him with an unfriendly stare. "Might be you fooled these others, crow, but don't think you'll be fooling Mance. He'll take one look a' you and know you're false. And when he does, I'll make a cloak o' your wolf there, and open your soft boy's belly and sew a weasel up inside."
Jon's sword hand opened and closed, flexing the burned fingers beneath the glove, but Longspear Ryk only laughed. "And where would you find a weasel in the snow?" ASOS-Jon I
Jon's sword hand opened and closed, flexing the burned fingers beneath the glove, but Longspear Ryk only laughed. "And where would you find a weasel in the snow?" ASOS-Jon I
I will kill him if I must. The prospect gave Jon no joy; there would be no honor in such a killing, and it would mean his own death as well. Yet he could not let the wildlings breach the Wall, to threaten Winterfell and the north, the barrowlands and the Rills, White Harbor and the Stony Shore, even the Neck. For eight thousand years the men of House Stark had lived and died to protect their people against such ravagers and reavers . . . and bastard-born or no, the same blood ran in his veins. Bran and Rickon are still at Winterfell besides. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Farlen the kennelmaster, Mikken at his forge and Gage by his ovens . . . everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever loved. If Jon must slay a man he half admired and almost liked to save them from the mercies of Rattleshirt and Harma Dogshead and the earless Magnar of Thenn, that was what he meant to do.
Still, he prayed his father's gods might spare him that bleak task.
...
And even more telling, only one in a hundred wildlings was mounted. The Old Bear will go through them like an axe through porridge. And when that happened, Mance must give chase with his center, to try and blunt the threat. If he should fall in the fight that must follow, the Wall would be safe for another hundred years, Jon judged. And if not . . .
He flexed the burned fingers of his sword hand. Longclaw was slung to his saddle, the carved stone wolf's-head pommel and soft leather grip of the great bastard sword within easy reach. ASOS-Jon II
Still, he prayed his father's gods might spare him that bleak task.
...
And even more telling, only one in a hundred wildlings was mounted. The Old Bear will go through them like an axe through porridge. And when that happened, Mance must give chase with his center, to try and blunt the threat. If he should fall in the fight that must follow, the Wall would be safe for another hundred years, Jon judged. And if not . . .
He flexed the burned fingers of his sword hand. Longclaw was slung to his saddle, the carved stone wolf's-head pommel and soft leather grip of the great bastard sword within easy reach. ASOS-Jon II
Jon is understanding that his duty might be to kill Mance, a man who he is beginning to admire. He prays to his father's gods that the task will not fall to him. But he know it might ... and he flexes the fingers on his sword hand. Now, this might be stress, but it could be in preparation of using his sword hand on Mance. This might have to do with Aemon's teachings, but it could just be what Jon does when facing stress.
"Crow," the Magnar warned, "do not take me for Mance Rayder. If you lie to me, I will have your tongue."
"I'm no crow, and won't be called a liar." Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. ASOS-Jon III
"I'm no crow, and won't be called a liar." Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. ASOS-Jon III
She grinned at that, showing Jon the crooked teeth that he had somehow come to love. Wildling to the bone, he thought again, with a sick sad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand, and wondered what Ygritte would do if she knew his heart. Would she betray him if he sat her down and told her that he was still Ned Stark's son and a man of the Night's Watch? He hoped not, but he dare not take that risk. Too many lives depended on his somehow reaching Castle Black before the Magnar . . . assuming he found a chance to escape the wildlings. ASOS-Jon V
Beneath the trees were all the wildlings in the world; raiders and giants, wargs and skinchangers, mountain men, salt sea sailors, ice river cannibals, cave dwellers with dyed faces, dog chariots from the Frozen Shore, Hornfoot men with their soles like boiled leather, all the queer wild folk Mance had gathered to break the Wall. This is not your land, Jon wanted to shout at them. There is no place for you here. Go away. He could hear Tormund Giantsbane laughing at that. "You know nothing, Jon Snow," Ygritte would have said. He flexed his sword hand, opening and closing the fingers, though he knew full well that swords would not come into it up here.
He was chilled and feverish, and suddenly the weight of the longbow was too much. The battle with the Magnar had been nothing, he realized, and the night fight less than nothing, only a probe, a dagger in the dark to try and catch them unprepared. The real battle was only now beginning. ASOS-Jon VIII
He was chilled and feverish, and suddenly the weight of the longbow was too much. The battle with the Magnar had been nothing, he realized, and the night fight less than nothing, only a probe, a dagger in the dark to try and catch them unprepared. The real battle was only now beginning. ASOS-Jon VIII
Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that. Robb had become a hero king; if Jon was remembered at all, it would be as a turncloak, an oathbreaker, and a murderer. He was glad that Lord Eddard was not alive to see his shame.
I should have stayed in that cave with Ygritte. If there was a life beyond this one, he hoped to tell her that. She will claw my face the way the eagle did, and curse me for a coward, but I'll tell her all the same. He flexed his sword hand, as Maester Aemon had taught him. The habit had become part of him, and he would need his fingers to be limber to have even half a chance of murdering Mance Rayder.
They had pulled him out this morning, after four days in the ice, locked up in a cell five by five by five, too low for him to stand, too tight for him to stretch out on his back. The stewards had long ago discovered that food and meat kept longer in the icy storerooms carved from the base of the Wall . . . but prisoners did not. "You will die in here, Lord Snow," Ser Alliser had said just before he closed the heavy wooden door, and Jon had believed it. But this morning they had come and pulled him out again, and marched him cramped and shivering back to the King's Tower, to stand before jowly Janos Slynt once more. ASOS-Jon X
I should have stayed in that cave with Ygritte. If there was a life beyond this one, he hoped to tell her that. She will claw my face the way the eagle did, and curse me for a coward, but I'll tell her all the same. He flexed his sword hand, as Maester Aemon had taught him. The habit had become part of him, and he would need his fingers to be limber to have even half a chance of murdering Mance Rayder.
They had pulled him out this morning, after four days in the ice, locked up in a cell five by five by five, too low for him to stand, too tight for him to stretch out on his back. The stewards had long ago discovered that food and meat kept longer in the icy storerooms carved from the base of the Wall . . . but prisoners did not. "You will die in here, Lord Snow," Ser Alliser had said just before he closed the heavy wooden door, and Jon had believed it. But this morning they had come and pulled him out again, and marched him cramped and shivering back to the King's Tower, to stand before jowly Janos Slynt once more. ASOS-Jon X
However, Jon is aware of what he is doing and gives credit for it to Maester Aemon, even reporting that the habit had become a part of him. But I question that it was part of him long before Aemon's advice.
A Dance with Dragons-
"Good," said Stannis, "for I will suffer no other kings in Westeros. Have you signed the grant?"
"No, Your Grace." And now it comes. Jon closed his burned fingers and opened them again. "You ask too much."
"Ask? I asked you to be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I require these castles." ADWD-Jon I
"No, Your Grace." And now it comes. Jon closed his burned fingers and opened them again. "You ask too much."
"Ask? I asked you to be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I require these castles." ADWD-Jon I
"Come," urged Melisandre. "Come to the light … or run back to the darkness." In the pit below her, the fire was crackling. "If you choose life, come to me."
And they came. Slowly at first, some limping or leaning on their fellows, the captives began to emerge from their rough-hewn pen. If you would eat, come to me, Jon thought. If you would not freeze or starve, submit. Hesitant, wary of some trap, the first few prisoners edged across the planks and through the ring of the stakes, toward Melisandre and the Wall. More followed, when they saw that no harm had come to those who went before. Then more, until it was a steady stream. Queen's men in studded jacks and halfhelms handed each passing man, woman, or child a piece of white weirwood: a stick, a splintered branch as pale as broken bone, a spray of blood-red leaves. A piece of the old gods to feed the new. Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. ADWD-Jon III
And they came. Slowly at first, some limping or leaning on their fellows, the captives began to emerge from their rough-hewn pen. If you would eat, come to me, Jon thought. If you would not freeze or starve, submit. Hesitant, wary of some trap, the first few prisoners edged across the planks and through the ring of the stakes, toward Melisandre and the Wall. More followed, when they saw that no harm had come to those who went before. Then more, until it was a steady stream. Queen's men in studded jacks and halfhelms handed each passing man, woman, or child a piece of white weirwood: a stick, a splintered branch as pale as broken bone, a spray of blood-red leaves. A piece of the old gods to feed the new. Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. ADWD-Jon III
Not at all." Clydas opened the door wider. "I was mulling wine. Will my lord take a cup?"
"With pleasure." His hands were stiff from cold. He pulled off his gloves and flexed his fingers. ADWD-Jon III
"With pleasure." His hands were stiff from cold. He pulled off his gloves and flexed his fingers. ADWD-Jon III
It's possible that Jon is still stressed about Mel and her fires. It's also possible that some instinct is trying to tell Jon not to drink the mulled wine that Clydas prepares.
"And saved the Wall, mayhaps," said Bowen Marsh. "These are enemies we speak of. Let them pray amongst the ruins, and if their gods send ships to carry them off to a better world, well and good. In this world I have no food to feed them."
Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. "Cotter Pyke's galleys sail past Hardhome from time to time. He tells me there is no shelter there but the caves. The screaming caves, his men call them. Mother Mole and those who followed her will perish there, of cold and starvation. Hundreds of them. Thousands."
"Thousands of enemies. Thousands of wildlings." ADWD-Jon VIII
Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. "Cotter Pyke's galleys sail past Hardhome from time to time. He tells me there is no shelter there but the caves. The screaming caves, his men call them. Mother Mole and those who followed her will perish there, of cold and starvation. Hundreds of them. Thousands."
"Thousands of enemies. Thousands of wildlings." ADWD-Jon VIII
Above the door the raven muttered, "Dead, dead, dead."
"Let me tell you what will happen," Jon said. "The dead will rise again, in their hundreds and their thousands. They will rise as wights, with black hands and pale blue eyes, and they will come for us." He pushed himself to his feet, the fingers of his sword hand opening and closing. "You have my leave to go."
Septon Cellador rose grey-faced and sweating, Othell Yarwyck stiffly, Bowen Marsh tight-lipped and pale. "Thank you for your time, Lord Snow." They left without another word. ADWD-Jon VIII
"Let me tell you what will happen," Jon said. "The dead will rise again, in their hundreds and their thousands. They will rise as wights, with black hands and pale blue eyes, and they will come for us." He pushed himself to his feet, the fingers of his sword hand opening and closing. "You have my leave to go."
Septon Cellador rose grey-faced and sweating, Othell Yarwyck stiffly, Bowen Marsh tight-lipped and pale. "Thank you for your time, Lord Snow." They left without another word. ADWD-Jon VIII
It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.
In the haunted forest to the north, the shadows of the afternoon crept through the trees. The western sky was a blaze of red, but to the east the first stars were peeking out. Jon Snow flexed the fingers of his sword hand, remembering all he'd lost. Sam, you sweet fat fool, you played me a cruel jape when you made me lord commander. A lord commander has no friends. ADWD-Jon XI
In the haunted forest to the north, the shadows of the afternoon crept through the trees. The western sky was a blaze of red, but to the east the first stars were peeking out. Jon Snow flexed the fingers of his sword hand, remembering all he'd lost. Sam, you sweet fat fool, you played me a cruel jape when you made me lord commander. A lord commander has no friends. ADWD-Jon XI
And Jon thought, "Ice," she said, "and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel." His sword hand flexed. The wind was rising. ADWD-Jon XI
Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night's Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon's breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …
"I think we had best change the plan," Jon Snow said. ADWD-Jon XIII
"I think we had best change the plan," Jon Snow said. ADWD-Jon XIII
He flexes his sword hand, he opens and closes his fist. We have a very stressed and worried Jon Snow. Just getting the Pink Letter and all the threats it contained, his worry for Arya, his thinking of Robb with snowflakes melting in his hair (this get's me teary eyed every damn time), of Bran's fall, of Rickon's laughter, memories of Sansa and Arya. This might be the most stressed we see of Jon. Facing all that he has lost, and thinking perhaps he must to do something for them. This action is clearly about his family and not about the Night's Watch. But it seems like this is all stress related and has no bearing on an immediate battle.
This opening and closing of his fingers is Jon's tell. And I think he had it before this, although there is no indication in the text. But, we have two Starks who do the same thing as Jon does, and they certainly never had Maester Aemon to teach this response to them.
Back to A Game of Thrones-
The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him … pain shot through his broken leg, beneath the filthy grey plaster of his cast. He winced, his fingers opening and closing helplessly. "Is this your own scheme," he gasped out at Varys, "or are you in league with Littlefinger?" AGOT-Eddard XV
In the black cells, Ned has to face that he is most likely going to die, but something is left unfinished for him. And it's Jon. This elicits a stress response from Ned that is very, very like what we see Jon do for the course of the series.
"His fingers opening and closing helplessly". When I first noticed this action by Ned, i nearly came out of my chair. I was surprised but not terrible shocked after I thought about it. Jon is very like Ned, some of that is instinctual and some of it is learned behavior. It just was one more connection between Jon and Ned. However, it did make me question Jon's actions with flexing his hand, and perhaps that this was something Jon learned long before he met Aemon Targaryen.
Then, in the same reread, I noticed this-
Robb came back to her on a different horse, riding a piebald gelding in the place of the grey stallion he had taken down into the valley. The wolf's head on his shield was slashed half to pieces, raw wood showing where deep gouges had been hacked in the oak, but Robb himself seemed unhurt. Yet when he came closer, Catelyn saw that his mailed glove and the sleeve of his surcoat were black with blood. "You're hurt," she said.
Robb lifted his hand, opened and closed his fingers. "No," he said. "This is … Torrhen's blood, perhaps, or …" He shook his head. "I do not know."
A mob of men followed him up the slope, dirty and dented and grinning, with Theon and the Greatjon at their head. Between them they dragged Ser Jaime Lannister. They threw him down in front of her horse. "The Kingslayer," Hal announced, unnecessarily. AGOT-Catelyn X
Robb lifted his hand, opened and closed his fingers. "No," he said. "This is … Torrhen's blood, perhaps, or …" He shook his head. "I do not know."
A mob of men followed him up the slope, dirty and dented and grinning, with Theon and the Greatjon at their head. Between them they dragged Ser Jaime Lannister. They threw him down in front of her horse. "The Kingslayer," Hal announced, unnecessarily. AGOT-Catelyn X
Just like we recently seen Ned do. And like we will watch Jon do for the whole length of the series.
So, I question that Jon's actions of flexing his hand, opening and closing his fingers, that involve stress or anger have anything to do with Aemon's advice. Oh, I think it was good advice, and I do think Jon does put it to use several times in the story when he is not feeling stress, but when Jon is stressed, angry, feels cornered ... I think that is something he learned from either watching Eddard Stark, or it is perhaps a built in the genetic scheme of being a Stark. I think Robb either learned or inherited this habit from Eddard, too!
Same action, same type of circumstances! Of course, I am prepared for people to think I am crazy. But it's something I can't unsee now that I seen the same actions in Jon, Ned and Robb!
Sorry for the length, but I think all the quotes and looking at the situations help determine the cause of the response!
) that there was another hand that is the hand Jon did not feel- a fiery hand specifically. Many parallels in that Iron Suitor chapter. Ack! Hard to explain here, but something that I have been writing about elsewhere. 
) so I can't really say anything more. However, what I did think of when browsing over all Jon's flexing before this thread, was the frequent mention of "burned hand". Over and over and over, "burned hand". In close proximity, we have:
We have the Unburnnt King and the Burnt Lord Commander, come to think of it. Interesting!