Gendel's Children

by Silence Leaflin

In this sequel to Broken Wings of Black, Ygritte and Jon Snow venture into a system of caves with Ghost and Tor in an attempt to find one that will take them underneath the Wall and back to the Real North. Gendel's descendants are said to lurk deep down somewhere in forgotten shadowy caverns. The truth will change Jon and Ygritte's view of the legend and the White Walkers forever.

Gendel's Children

(A Jon, Ygritte, Ghost, and Tor Fan Fiction story set after the events of Broken Wings of Black)

Fragment I – Small Steps (Jon)

Jon Snow slowly ran his whetstone along Longclaw's edge. Not far from where he sat, his son Tor crawled on the dry stone of the cave's floor. It was only a shallow cave, deep enough to shelter them all but leading nowhere. The same threat of snow in the sky that had driven them to take shelter in the cave the previous night was still present when they woke, and yet Ygritte had insisted upon hunting anyway. She had been gone for quite some time, and so Jon was inclined to think she would return soon. At least I hope so. She always worries me like this…

Ghost was not in sight, but that caused him far less worry. The solitary wolf was wont to wander and often slipped away quietly to hunt or explore when he was certain either Jon or Ygritte would remain to keep watch over Tor. Ghost's protective nature with regard to Tor was something that warmed Jon's heart. If Ghost had been female instead of male, he might have said the wolf had accepted Tor as one of her own pups. Hardly a night went by when Ghost did not sleep against little Tor or permit the child to climb on his back as he lay resting. The baby tugged at his fur, handled his ears, pet his head, and hugged his tail… and Ghost seemed to relish every moment.

Jon's eyes lifted from his sword to see Tor push himself up onto his knees. The boy had been trying to walk with increasing excitement and curiosity of late. Although Jon knew nothing of the proper development of a child's skills at a given age, Ygritte assured him that at one year old, their son was coming along as he should. Jon and Ygritte differed greatly in their methods of parenting, however, and she had chastised Jon on many occasions for coddling Tor too much. If he cried, if he fell, if he called for him at all, Jon was inclined to go to his son and shower him with attention. You'll turn 'im soft if you keep pamperin' 'im like that, Ygritte said once. What's wrong with being soft? Jon asked with a guilty grin. Softness'll get 'im killed, she replied, and yet she did not intervene during all of Jon's doting. She chose her battles carefully and let Jon win often enough to make him believe she saw the value in having some softness in one's heart.

Tor got onto his knees and even managed to stand. Once upright, however, his eyes widened and he knew not what to do with himself. Wobbling considerably, the small boy fell down hard onto his bottom and immediately began to cry.

"Dada…" he called to Jon, holding out his hands as he often did when he wanted to be picked up.

Jon sighed, smiled a little, and fought against his first instinct to help his son. "You're fine, Tor. You're not hurt," he said.

The boy sniffled and whimpered sadly.

"You're fine. Get back up," Jon said. "I know you're able."

Tor rubbed his eyes with two tiny fists in a truly dejected fashion.

"Get up, Tor," Jon said firmly.

Realizing he was not going to be helped, Tor started to roll over and onto his knees again. Taking far more time to reach a standing position this time, Tor was surprisingly focused as he struggled not to fall. When he finally stood once more, he looked to Jon and held out his hands.

"Dada!" he exclaimed.

Jon could not resist. He held out for as long as he could and tried to let Tor learn on his own, but the boy was not quite ready to take steps alone. Ygritte can watch him fall and let him get little scrapes and bruises, but I simply cannot do the same. I don't understand how she does it. Then again, she was raised to be a lot harder than I ever was, even living in the North as I did. Putting Longclaw aside, Jon went to Tor and held out his hands. The boy grabbed hold of the tips of his father's fingers and took several exaggerated and uncoordinated steps. With Jon there to lead him, Tor walked well enough. The wide grins and high pitched giggles that followed were proof enough to Jon that Tor was proud of himself.

"Good boy. You're doing a fine job," Jon said.

"Ah!" Tor yelled, smiling brightly as he looked down at his own feet.

"I know," Jon said, over-enunciating for Tor's benefit. "Look at what a big man you are!"

Tor looked up at him with such wonder and excitement that Jon had to laugh. Everything his son did – even the smallest things – made his heart swell with love for the child.

"He should be doin' that 'is own self," Jon heard Ygritte say. He turned to see her duck into the cave and walk toward them. She dropped a few rabbits down by their packs of supplies.

"He tried and fell," Jon said. "I made him get back up on his own but he needed a little help to get himself going."

"Uh-huh," Ygritte said, grinning at the two of them as Jon led Tor around. "Well, I s'pose tha's an improvement for you."

"Mama!" Tor cried out loudly as he smiled at her.

Ygritte grinned widely. "What is't, wee one?" she called to him. "You walkin'?"

"Wa-kee," Tor imitated, looking down at his feet again.

"Aye, I see," she said in an exaggerated manner.

Jon watched her now, for she was smiling genuinely and without a shred of any of that hardened parenting she told him he had to maintain. Funny how it is that whenever she wants to coddle him, it's all right to do. Soon, Tor grew tired. Jon lowered him to the ground and he immediately reached for his favorite toy, a wolf made of hide and rabbit fur. Ygritte had used particularly pale colored fur for the toy, trying as best she could to grant it the semblance of Ghost. Jon moved to retrieve the toy, but Ygritte stopped him.

"Let 'im get it 'imself," she said, taking a rigid tone again. She leaned the toy against a rock some distance from Tor. He reached toward it once more, grunting his disapproval that no one was bringing it to him. "Crawl to't, now. On your own. Go on," Ygritte said to him.

Tor grunted again and looked at Jon.

"I'm afraid your mother is firm on this one, son," he said apologetically, folding his arms. "Go get it. You can do it."

Frustrated, Tor rolled onto his stomach and eagerly crawled to the toy. Hugging it in his arms, he sat upright again and bounced the wolf doll on his lap.

"See? He can do't well 'nough. He jus' chooses not to if 'e can get us to do't for 'im. He won't learn if you keep coddlin' 'im," Ygritte said.

"Maybe," Jon said, lowering his guilty eyes.

"Maybe, but…?" Ygritte asked with a knowing grin.

"But he's my son, and I love him," Jon said.

"You'll do better t'love 'im a bit more strictly," Ygritte said. "You always make me th'nasty one."

"Not intentionally," Jon said.

"Tha's what I get for hitchin' me 'eart to a southerner," she said with a haughty grin.

"Right, because Winterfell is in the south…" Jon tossed back with a grin of his own.

"'Tis all south t'me," Ygritte said.

He shook his head a little, wondering at how many times he had heard Ygritte say that. It was more that he could count at this point.

"You'll not be turnin' no son o' mine into a soft southern lordling," she continued on.

Jon laughed at that. "He's not soft. He's learning," he insisted.

"Aye, learnin' t'be soft," Ygritte said playfully.

"Foft!" Tor exclaimed, looking at his parents with gleeful amusement.

"You 'ear that?" Ygritte said to Jon, chuckling. "He's damn near even learned th'word now, thanks t'you."

Just then, Ghost padded over the uneven rocks that lined the floor of the cave, going first to Jon and then to Tor. He nuzzled Tor's ear, causing the child to giggle and wipe the wetness away with his hand. Ghost licked Tor's black, curly hair as the boy protested half-heartedly.

"We're all right, Ghost," Jon said. The wolf made his rounds, sniffing the walls of the small cave before coming to stand vigilantly at its entrance.

"Does 'e smell somethin'?" Ygritte asked. "Or someone?"

"No," Jon said. "He's just making sure we're safe. If he smelled something threatening, he'd wander off and kill it before we even knew, or at the very least, we'd hear him growling at it."

"You sure?" she asked, stopping her work for a moment. She had been tending to the large, pale gray snow hares she had caught, but now she looked a bit worried.

"I cannot ask him, Ygritte," Jon said with a slight smile.

Tor held out his arms and Ghost lowered his head so that the child could hug him around his neck. The wolf stood like that for some time, oddly still for a usually restless animal, as Tor stroked his white fur with care beyond his years.

"No, I… I know that," she said, but her brow furrowed as she look down at the hares again.

"It's been a fortnight since we saw anyone," Jon reminded her.

"I know," she whispered.

Jon knew she was worried, even if she would never admit it. It was only last month that they had run into a band of seven Night's Watchmen just a few miles south of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. He had warned Ygritte that they were too close to the Wall, but she was relentless in her search for a cave that may grant them safe passage through it – or under it, rather – since they could not scale it again with Tor and Ghost in tow. Ygritte had knocked an arrow quicker than Jon could discern who it was that was coming towards them, but he had not given her permission to fire it.

He had come to an understanding with Ygritte, one that was meant to avoid mistakes and above all, undue tragedy. He gave her his word that he would not move to strike a wildling unless she gave him leave, and she promised him that no arrows would be loosed on the Night's Watch unless he told her to let them fly. Not only could each of them identify and assess their own people better than the other, but it would prevent damaging arguments between the two of them should the wrong assumption be made about another's kin and countrymen.

The day they came across those seven lads headed southward from the wall on foot, Ygritte had been keen to shoot them all. She waited, however, eying Jon and holding her arrow still as Tor mumbled to himself on her back. Ghost came to Jon's side. His back arched as he growled and snarled. Palm flat and fingers spread, Jon lowered his right hand. It was his signal to Ghost to remain as he was.

Jon's hair was a lot longer now. Long enough for him to tie back in a half tail. His recognizable curls were far less so, and none of his Night's Watch black still remained on his person. He was entirely clothed in furs and hides that he and his love had acquired with their own hard work and skill. His appearance had changed considerably, and yet Jon still hoped that no description of his face that might have been sent east and west of Castle Black was good enough to have any of the lads recognize him. They did not seem to care who he was, however, or if they knew at all, they did not mention it. Instead, they were entirely caught up in their own fear.

"Ya won't say nuffin', will ya?" asked a young man – a boy, really – of perhaps seventeen or eighteen. He shuffled back and forth on his feet, preparing more to run than anything else. The others with him merely exchanged nervous glances. "Ya won't say ya sawrus, right?"

Their hands were bloody. Their cloaks were torn. Their faces were so pale as to suggest all their blood had run screaming from their cheeks, never to return. Nervously they watched Ghost. The tip of Ygritte's arrow dipped a little, as it always did when thought distracted her from her aim, as she looked them up and down.

Jon shook his head slowly at the one who had spoken to him, swallowing hard with his hand on Longclaw's hilt. The men began to move past them, still headed due south. Ygritte followed them well enough with her arrow now, but remained as silent as Jon.

"What're they runnin' from?" Ygritte asked when they were a good distance away, finally loosening the tension in her bow.

"They're deserting the Watch, probably," Jon said. "If someone catches them, they'll be put to death."

"Nah," Ygritte said. Her brow furrowed deeply as she shook her head. "They're running from somethin'."

"Aye, the Watch," he insisted.

Ygritte shook her head again. "Somethin' more terrible than all that."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, watching as the men became mere dots on the horizon and disappeared over a hill.

"There was fear in their eyes," she said.

"And you don't think it was a fear of beheading?" Jon asked with a slight smirk. "That's the usual punishment for breaking one's oath and deserting his post." Father used to be the one to carry out those judgments. I suppose now the duty has fallen to Robb.

"Nah," she said again, unwavering in her humorless expression. "Beheadin's pref'rable t'whatever caused that fear."

Her words had given him chills. Ygritte's instincts were undeniably stronger and more primal than his own. She may not always be able to put her concerns into words, but that she has them at all is cause enough for my own concern. In the days to come, Jon began to ponder many things, not the least of which was the outcome of the wildings' assault on the Wall. Perhaps they succeeded, and that's why the survivors are running southward. Bah… The wildlings wouldn't leave many survivors. White walkers, maybe? It's got to be that. What else could scare a man as deeply as Ygritte said those men were?

Even more disturbing than their encounter with the rogue Night's Watchmen was the fact that they had seen very few souls at all on the high roads, or in the fields, or in the mountains, or even close to the Wall. They had wandered to all those places, rarely stopping for more than a day or two in any one of them. Jon feared the kingsguard would find them. Or lesser guards perhaps. Or his brother Robb's men. Someone. Anyone. Instead, days and even weeks passed without Jon and Ygritte seeing another human being besides themselves and Tor.

What is my brother doing? he wondered. Should he not have more of a presence in the North if he is trying to take the land for himself? Jon had shrugged off any worry with regard to Robb, even while he was forced to acknowledge his own isolated situation. If something did happen to him – something bad – how would I hear of it? From whom? He assumed the war had moved south, perhaps to King's Landing, and that was why there was little to no soldier presence in the North. It was an idea that did not always make sense to him, and yet most of the alternatives his fretful mind came up with were far less comforting.

Although the reason for it worried him, Jon was glad he had not run into any of his brother's soldiers or bannermen. What would Robb say if he saw me now, with a wildling lover and a half-blood wildling son, half a wildling myself now for all that I have embedded myself irrevocably into the northern countryside. He'd say, "seize him," to whoever he was with, and I'd not hate him for it. It is his duty now to punish any deserters he finds, just as it was once Father's. He would try to hold me – and Ygritte too, most like – and arrest me for my crime. He would condemn me before the Old Gods and take my head himself, just like Father taught us. Perhaps I'd notice something there around his eyes or the corners of his mouth, something small that held some sorrow or conflict with regard to his duty. Something that only I, as his brother, would notice. Then the sword would come down and I'd cease to wonder about anything. I'd cease altogether.

Ygritte would never allow herself to be taken alive. She'd try to escape with Tor, to no avail. Robb would foster Tor himself, perhaps as a ward of Winterfell, that much I know. He would not condemn a child, nor would he ever abandon one of Stark blood, however dilute that blood might be. I wonder, though, would he tell Tor about me? Would Robb tell him about his turncloak brother and make the boy regret his lineage as he grew to manhood? I would hope that he would tell him about the rumors and whispers, with all obligatory words and titles that history had bestowed on me – and on Father as well, for was he not also branded a traitor? – and then tell him the things about us that truly mattered.

Jon was surprised that he did not feel more animosity and bitterness toward Robb whenever he considered that there would be no question as to his sentence should the two meet now. He would only be carrying out his duty, as I did once. Perhaps he has not yet had enough time or met the right people to show him the small holes in one's life through which duty can fall away. I can no more blame him for upholding his duty than I can forgive myself for upholding it at the wrong times. And I know he would spare Tor. That is what matters most.

He knew that nowhere would be safe forever, but Jon was most certain of the danger north of the Wall. Regardless of the differences in creed and purpose between the Watch and Mance Rayder's massive alliance of wildling tribes, Jon had always felt that anything that caused such a self-sufficient and fearless group of people to want to risk life and limb just to get south was something significant, something dangerous. He had limited experience with White Walkers, but what he had seen of them was terrifying. That was why he was not quite as eager as Ygritte to push back north of the Wall.

Ygritte, however, had been consumed with the idea of late. That was why Jon found it so odd that she did not mention her most recent search, now that she had returned from hunting. Each time she left, she hunted for more than just game. Convinced there was a system of caves that ran for miles underground, spanning the land underneath the Wall, Ygritte searched tirelessly for the one that might provide some passage to the Real North, her home. Not today, she always said when she could not find any caves that looked promising.

She had not said such words today, however. She caught Tor's attention and lifted him into her arms as he crawled to her and remained silent on the subject. Jon was quiet himself, sharpening Longclaw and glancing up at them every now and then. The expression on Ygritte's face as she nursed Tor was a solemn one, a contemplative one. It intrigued Jon enough to break the silence.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Aye," she whispered.

"Nothing out there but rabbits today?" he asked.

"Aye," she repeated, "an' t'was hell t'get those. No deer. Nothin'."

"That wasn't what I was asking," he said with a slight grin.

"Say what ya mean, then," she said haughtily, smirking at him.

"You didn't search for any passages north?" he asked.

"Did I say that I didn't?" she asked, but now she was grinning ear to ear.

"You found something," Jon deduced, grinning himself now.

"Might be," she whispered, nodding slowly and dramatically.

"Where is it?" Jon asked.

Tor reached up to comb his mother's long red hair with his fingers. Pleasantly distracted, Ygritte took hold of his tiny hand and kissed it. Tor smiled even as he nursed, watching his mother's eyes. Soon, he was dozing lazily as he often did when he ate. Jon finished with Longclaw, wiped down the blade, and sheathed it. Then he turned his attention to the rabbits.

"Let's eat these an' get a good night's sleep," Ygritte said, "an' at first light I'll show you what I found."

Jon nodded, skinning the rabbits.

Fragment II – An Adventure (Ygritte)

"This one?" Jon asked as he ducked inside the cave. His eyes squinted and his nose scrunched up with doubt. "I doubt it goes down very deep…"

"Not deep, but far," Ygritte insisted. "Every other one I've gone into, I've come out th'other side in a blink. Or 'tis dead at th'end, leadin' nowhere in partic'lar. This one, though… oh, it goes on for a good long while, Jon Snow. A good long while… an' it slopes downward, graceful as a bird flies. There's an echo, too. This's th'one. I feel it."

"But does it slope enough to get under the Wall?" he asked.

"I aim t'find out," Ygritte said, throwing him an excited glance.

"Go!" Tor yelled behind them.

They both turned to see him giving Ghost's sides little kicks as he tried to make the wolf move. Tor was just the right size to ride Ghost, and the dire wolf did not seem to mind it. Ygritte saw Jon fuss over Ghost the first time Tor was placed upon him, watching his friend closely for signs of irritation or an indication that his pride was hurt by having the child on his back. To their surprise, the wolf was mindful of Tor when carrying him, going so far as to walk carefully and slowly so that the boy would not tumble off. Ghost's large red eyes looked to Jon now, waiting for his request rather than obeying Tor.

"With me, Ghost," Jon said as he entered the cave.

"Hold on tight, like I showed you," Ygritte said, making a fist and displaying it to Tor. The baby took two large fistfuls of Ghost's fur just behind the wolf's neck and concentrated on balancing himself. He lay down on the wolf's back, gripping the soft white fur and only lifting his head every now and then to look where it was they were headed.

Jon lit a torch not far inside the cave, for they were plunged into total darkness almost immediately. After only a few minutes of walking, Ygritte noted many things, her tracking instincts taking in the sights and sounds. It was getting warmer and more humid. There was a musty odor and the smell of fresh water. A significant amount of it. Must be a spring 'r a pool 'r somethin' up ahead. Theground was very uneven, lined with jagged rocks such as it was, and Ghost had a difficult time navigating with Tor on his back. The child held on well enough, however, and Ygritte could not help but smile at his determined little grunts as he struggled to remain on Ghost.

The rocks that lined the floor and walls of the cave were brown – or so they appear in th' light o' th' torch – and rough. They were dull and dusty, and Ygritte could tell that the cave was natural. These walls aren't carved. Not by any hand but th'gods. She quietly observed her surroundings, sometimes following Jon and other times taking the lead. Very often, she looked back to make sure Tor was all right.

The baby discovered the cave's echo about an hour into their exploration when he slipped from Ghost's back and cried out. Instead of fearing the fall to the rocks below, Tor sat on his little bottom, perplexed only for a moment before he called out again.

"Ah! Aaaaah!" he yelled, laughing as his own voice came back to him.

"Did he fall off?" Jon asked, backtracking a little and holding the torch out before him.

"Aye, but 'e's not bothered none by't," Ygritte said, chuckling at Tor's enthusiasm. The baby cried out again, laughing hysterically at the echo that resulted.

"What's he doing?" Jon said, laughing now as well.

"He's doin' what wee ones do," Ygritte said, shrugging. "Nat'ral as rain 'r wind 'r snow. Didn't you play wit' your own voice when you were jus' into your toddlin'?"

"I honestly don't remember that far back," Jon said.

"Oooooooh!" Tor yelled, and this time, Ghost joined him. The wolf howled loudly and beautifully, shocking Jon with the sound of it.

"He doesn't usually make such noise," he said.

"He heard our wee one havin' fun an' thought 'e might join in," Ygritte said, watching the scene in amusement.

"Ooooaaah!" Tor yelled yet again. Ghost anticipated it and howled in unison. As Tor's echo died down and Ghost finished his howl, a third sound lingered for just a moment after. The smile left Ygritte's face.

"Did you 'ear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?' Jon asked.

"Sounded… like…" she said, but she never finished her sentence. A third voice, she wanted to say, but she peered into the darkness in silence.

"What, Ygritte?" Jon asked, looking in the same direction.

"No's nothin'," she said. "Echoes sound strange th'more they bounce 'round." She went to Tor and lifted him back onto Ghost's back. "Quiet now. Hush. Time t'go."

"Shouldn't he be doing that all by himself?" Jon asked.

Ygritte shot him an irritated yet playful glare. "Now's not th'time for sass, Jon Snow."

"It's never the time when the sass is coming from my lips instead of yours," he said.

"Wha's that 'bout me sass, now?" Ygritte went to him and stared him down. "You complainin' 'bout it?" she smiled as he pulled her to him with his free arm.

"Not at all," he whispered as he kissed her. "But for your sass, I'd still be in the Night's Watch."

"An' a maid," Ygritte said, grazing his bearded chin with the tip of her nose.

Jon cleared his throat awkwardly. "Must you always bring that up?" he whispered close to her lips.

"Aye," she whispered back.

"I'm no maid now, am I?" Jon said.

"Nope," she said. "Def'nitely not."

She kissed him, slowly and deeply, but their passion was short-lived. Tor yelled behind them, forcing them to cease in their affections.

"Go!" the child cried, impatiently kicking Ghost again.

"One year old an' 'e thinks 'e rules th'land, our wee one," Ygritte said, her hand finding her hip.

"Don't kick Ghost, Tor. That hurts him," Jon instructed.

"Uh-oh," Tor said with great concern, looking down at his feet.

"He's fine, but just don't do it again," Jon said.

Tor nodded obediently. They started off once more and Ygritte stared at Jon until he cracked a smile. Shaking his head a little, he finally turned to her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"That was good jus' now. You sounded almost firm wit' 'im," Ygritte said.

"Almost?" Jon asked in protest. "And it isn't called being a 'maid' when it's to do with a man, you know."

"Back to that again? I said what I meant," Ygritte insisted, her grinning jaw jutting out to the side as she surpassed him and took the lead. She heard Jon Snow sigh behind her, and that only made her grin wider.

After a few hours, the cave had neither ended nor forked. It seemed to go on indefinitely. Ygritte closely watched the walls and ground, looking for signs of it having been carved or manipulated in some manner. At the first sight of intervention by man, she would turn back, for that meant that men had carved into the rock beyond where the cave had ended naturally. Instead, the cave opened into a wider cavern with a sizable pool of water. On the other side of the pool, the cave diverged into two separate paths.

"This's th'water I've been smellin'," Ygritte said. "Smells stronger now."

"It's warm," Jon said, dipping his free hand into it.

Ygritte waded into it a bit. Ghost went to Jon's side and sat, causing Tor to slide from his back. The baby looked around with interest and poked curiously at the rocks beside him.

"'Tis only a few feet deep. We can cross if we're careful. Might be deeper spots, so we jus' need t'mind our steps," she said.

"Which way do we go?" he asked, nodding toward the two paths.

"We'll leave a trail for ourselves to find our way later," she replied. "Let's try th'right."

"What do we use for a trail?" Jon asked. "Rabbit bones?"

"No, never," Ygritte said firmly.

"Never? What's so bad about rabbit bones?" he asked.

"Well for one thing, we don't 'ave enough of 'em," she answered. "What's more's that anythin' comin' along can snatch 'em up an' we'd be lost, jus' like that."

"What's going to steal rabbit bones?" Jon asked.

"Could be animals livin' 'ere in this cave. Don't know for sure. Don't want t'risk it," she said.

"Well, what then?" he asked.

"We'll carve somethin' into th'stone," she said. "That way 'tis permanent enough for us t'always find."

Jon nodded as Ygritte continued to wade across. She looked back to see Jon point to her. Ghost charged into the water, unafraid, quickly catching her up and reaching the other side before her. Jon then picked Tor up in his arms and started to wade in himself.

"Ah! No!" Tor screamed, clinging to him.

"I've got you. You won't fall," he said, kissing the boy's cheek.

Ygritte smiled at them when they reached the other side. Tor was on the verge of tears. For whatever reason, crossing the pond had frightened him.

"Such a brave little man," Ygritte said, trying to encourage him.

"Mama…" Tor whimpered sadly, reaching for her.

"You don't need me. You're a brave one indeed to cross all that," she said, pointing at the pond, but she took him into her arms all the same. "Hush, wee one. All's well."

"Don't coddle him," Jon said very sternly, but he could not maintain so severe an expression for very long. He was chuckling in mere moments.

"I'm not," Ygritte said. "I'm rewardin' 'im for 'is courage."

"You're coddling him," Jon said, but he said it so lovingly.

"Jus' a little," Ygritte admitted.

"We're going on an adventure, Tor," Jon said, crouching down and tickling under the boy's chin with his forefinger. The baby giggled a little despite his distress. "You're a big boy now, going on a quest such as this. Don't be scared. You're doing well."

"Thark," Tor said, looking around. His little voice trembled.

Tor had trouble with certain sounds at his age. Words with "d" sounds often sounded more like "th." It was obvious what he meant, however, because both Ygritte and Jon knew that Tor had an intense fear of the dark.

"Your father's got plenty o' torches. We won't lose th'light for long," Ygritte said to him,

Tor nodded, but his young and apprehensive face appeared more than just a little bit uncertain. He sat wiping both of his eyes, one after the other, with the backs of his hands, even though no tears were in them. It was the sort of nervous fussing that rarely resulted in actual tears but displayed the child's discontent nonetheless.

Ygritte took to carving an arrow – indicating the direction in which they intended to travel – into the hard stone while Ghost shook himself dry. He sprayed water all over Tor, who immediately chastised the wolf.

"Ba! No!" Tor yelled, his little brow furrowing.

"That's how he dries himself off," Jon explained.

Ygritte had to laugh at the way Tor had so firmly told Ghost no. He mimicked both her and Jon's harsh tones to him whenever he did something wrong or put himself in danger and needed to mind his ways. The tiny boy had even pointed his forefinger at the wolf emphatically to assert himself.

"Ba," Tor repeated, insisting upon Ghost's guilt in the matter.

"Bad," Jon corrected.

"Bath," Tor tried.

Jon smiled. "Good enough, lad."

"Let's walk 'til we're dry, an' then camp," Ygritte suggested.

Ghost wandered off down the path they did not intend to travel, sniffing the ground as he went.

"This way, Ghost," Jon said, nodding toward the rightmost path. The wolf doubled back and continued his exploration, never lifting his nose from the ground.

"This cave seems strange t'me," Ygritte said.

"You chose it," Jon said, lifting Tor into his arms.

"I know, I just… Why's it so long an level?" she asked.

"Maybe someone carved it," Jon said, "long ago."

"No, 'tis not that level," Ygritte scoffed. "Why did I not find't 'til yesterday?" she continued.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked. Ghost had found him again, sensing what Jon wanted. Ygritte watched as Tor was lowered onto Ghost's back once more.

"We didn't move much in th'past few days," she said.

"So?" he asked.

"So would I not 'ave found it sooner, seein' as 'ow I was searchin' an' searchin for't?" she asked.

"Maybe you just overlooked it, or lost your bearings or something," Jon said.

She knew she must have looked utterly insulted. Hah! I'd never lose me way in such open landscape. Only a moron'd not be able t'navigate a few rocks and gentle slopes.

"Listen t'me," Ygritte said, making her voice deeper. "I'm Jon Snow, master tracker. Been in th'wild 'alf a year but I'll be th'first t'say I've been trackin' me 'ole life." She then stumbled around on her feet a bit for added emphasis of Jon's poor sense of direction. "Know me own way good as 'nyone, good 'n grand as th'day I met me love an' lost 'er in th'mountains."

"I found you again!" Jon yelled, laughing. "I didn't lose you for long."

"Wrong, Jon Snow, I found you. Me an' ten 'r so o' me mates," she said, stepping close and bring her face close to his for a moment of sweet mockery. "All you found was trouble."

"Anyone can lose his or her way in the wrong circumstances," Jon insisted.

"What circumstances were yours? You got a good look at me arse an' lost all sense o' time an' direction?" she taunted.

Jon smirked, trying not to give her any more fodder. "My point is… maybe you just got turned around."

"What d'you mean, like this?" Ygritte said, turning her back to him and looking downward at her backside.

Jon just shook his head and kept silent, knowing he had lost the argument a long time ago. Ygritte knew that face well. She loved it. There had been a time when her taunting had bothered him, when she knew it made him angry and frustrated. Now, whenever she played with him, he played with her… or at least was happy enough to let her win.

"Th'better point is… I don't lose me way easily," she said, exuding pride and experience with her words.

"All right, then. Which way do we go?" he asked her as they came to cavern with multiple caves leading out of it.

"We don't," Ygritte said, sitting down on the rocks. "We camp." She carved another arrow into the stone and then walked to the center of the cavern and lowered her weapons and supply pack.

Fragment III – The Old Gods (Jon)

Jon set about laying down several layers of furs for bedding and starting a small fire. They had brought with them a small supply of meat and water, anything they could find in the early morning hours before entering the cave. They had no way of knowing what was inside or how long they might travel, and so they sought to be as prepared as possible. If supplies became too scarce, they would be forced to go back the way they came and try again when they could accumulate more.

Jon started cooking some of the meat as Ygritte nursed Tor. Tor was asleep not long after he had eaten and Ygritte laid him down upon his bed of furs. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Tor fought for a short time to remain sitting up, but finally rolled onto his back and dozed off. The day's travel, even though he had seen most of it from Ghost's back, had exhausted the tiny boy. Ghost lay down near Tor, ever the protective and vigilant guardian. His haunting red eyes watching both the baby and Jon.

"Do you really think this cave goes under the Wall?" Jon asked Ygritte, turning the meat on its skewer over their meager fire.

"What 'ave we got t'lose?" she asked, shrugging. She removed one boot and then the other, setting them down beside her.

"Ygritte… is going north wise?" he asked.

"Wiser than stayin' south," she said with a slight grin.

"I'm serious," Jon said firmly. "What about the White Walkers and the Others? Aren't they the reason why your people were heading southward in the first place?"

Her eyes dropped in contemplation. "I'd jus' rather be there than 'ere," she said, "when it 'appens."

"When what happens?" he asked.

"When winter comes," she said. "True winter. The one that'll end us all."

Jon blinked a few times, frozen by his thoughts. I've never heard her speak like that before. Ygritte is not usually one to think of the future. She is always so quick to say that I worry over nothing.

"Won't it be harder to survive it the farther northward we go?" Jon asked gently.

"If it's that winter – the longest one 'maginable – then not a one of us'll survive it, Jon Snow," she whispered. "An' if tha's th'winter tha's comin'… well, I want t'hold me ground an' plant me feet solid an' show't that I'm not afraid. When I die, I want t'die where I lived, where I was 'appiest. I don't want t'die in th'south, an' I don't want t'die runnin'," she said a bit more strongly. Her lips pressed together defiantly. "You fancy yourself a northerner as well. Don't you want to die as you lived? As your ancestors lived? Don't you take any pride in't?"

"Aye, I do," Jon whispered. He nodded with conviction as he stared into the fire. "You're right."

"I am?" she asked, not expecting him to agree with her so quickly.

"I'm of the North," Jon said, feeling the pride as he said it. "I'll die in the North."

Ygritte nodded slightly, her solemn face softening into a loving smile. "Aye," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but then she inched closer to him as he poked at the meat on the skewer. "Have you ever gotten lost, Jon Snow? Truly lost, not jus' losin' your way for a moment 'r so," she asked.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, grinning.

"You've got little t'no faith in me marks there," she said, pointin' to the nearest arrow she had carved into the rocky wall of the cavern. "So if we're goin' t'get lost, Jon Snow, I want t'know 'ow well you'll be gettin' your family back on th'right path, since I've no skill in me at all, it seems."

He grinned at her dry sarcasm. She sat down near Tor and caressed the sleeping boy's black curly hair. His thumb had slipped into his mouth, and he slowly sucked it in his sleep. Ghost lifted his head, watching Ygritte as she smoothed Tor's curls. Soon she was draping another small patchwork of furs over the boy to help shield him from the damp chill of the cave. Although it was much warmer inside the cave than out, the air was moist and uncomfortable.

"I did get lost once," Jon said, "at Winterfell. Robb and – my elder half-brother, Robb, that is – and I were playing out in the wood. We were maybe ten or so, I don't remember exactly. We weren't supposed to go off on our own, but we did so a lot. There were a multitude of things that no longer mattered out there in the Godswood and the forests that surrounded Winterfell. What our names were, what our titles were, what duties we were supposed to be performing at that time, who our mothers were… none of that mattered when it was just him and me out in the forest with our wooden swords, having fun. We'd play any number of games out there, even when the snows fell.

"Lady Catelyn, Robb's mother, called him back. I should've gone with him, even though I knew she did not care if I followed or not. There was always this… tangible wall between us, and I felt more accepted by the forest than by her. So I remained, and wandered off on my own. I thought I knew my way. I'd been playing in that wood from the time I took my first steps, and yet gradually I came to realize that I no longer recognized where I was. The treees looked different. The wood felt different. The air had changed. I may as well have not been anywhere near Winterfell at all, for all its strangeness and foreboding."

"What'd you do?" Ygritte asked.

"I sat down on a large rock and cried," Jon announced, laughing at himself.

Ygritte laughed with him. "Aw, poor wee Jon Snow, lost an' scared in 'is own 'ome."

"I was scared," he insisted. "Truly. I thought I was lost forever. You know how children are at that age."

"No, I don't," Ygritte said. "I wouldn't 'ave cried, I'd 'ave got my gump up an' done what needed doin' t'find me way through."

"Not all children are like you were," he said affectionately.

"Well, go on. Nothin' 'ate ya, else you wouldn't be 'ere now. So what 'appened? You can't start a story an' not finish. Those're th'rules," she said.

"My father found me," Jon said.

"An' 'ow furious was 'e?" Ygritte said, grinning in anticipation.

"Not at all," Jon whispered. He paused for a moment, remembering is father. He was just happy that I was safe. "He sat beside me without saying a word."

"An' what?" Ygritte pressed.

"And that's it," Jon said. "He sat for the longest time, and all the while I was thinking I was about to be reprimanded for being foolish. Time went on and on and all he did was sit quietly. When he finally did speak, I jumped at the sound, heh.

"Right. Then 'e yelled. Jus' took 'im a bit is all," Ygritte said.

"I don't think I've ever heard my father yell at anyone or anything in my life. He's a- Uh… He was… a very soft-spoken and reserved man most of the time," Jon explained. "It took a lot to make him angry, and even when he was so, he was wont to show it more with a harsh glare or with his pointed absence than with strong words. His lady had strong enough words for the both of them anyway, most oft."

"Ah," Ygritte said, smiling. "She sounds like she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

At least she still has her head, Jon thought grimly. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Well, so then what'd 'e say if 'e wasn't cross with you?" Ygritte asked.

"He said, 'If you want to know a man's true heart, let him lose his way in the woods. He'll either know his place and try to find his way within the natural laws and the boundaries of respect for the forest and animals around him, or he will display a sense of entitlement that man is above nature and begin cutting the brush and killing anything that moves until the forest has no choice but to do something about him. There are two problems with the latter sort of man. Firstly, the forest has far more options at its disposal than to merely set him free. Secondly, the Old Gods have memories unshaken by time. They do not easily forget men who forget their place in this world. They can be patient for an eternity.'"

"Oh…" Ygritte sighed, contemplating Ned Stark's words. "Wise sentiments, those."

"So I said that maybe there are some men who are bothered by the notion of having gods above them with the power to control their lives. Not every man is religious," Jon continued. "He replied that if a man respects the gods, then their rule above him holds no fear for him. No shame. And if a man respects his place and is himself a good and decent person, then the gods have no reason whatsoever to move his life toward any end, for he is living as they wish. 'And those who don't?' I asked. 'The gods gave us this earth,' he replied. 'They can take it from us, right from under our feet if they so choose.' I must have looked scared because he chuckled a bit then. 'No, Jon,' he said, 'do not fear the gods. Live decently. Understand your place in the natural world and the world of men. Give the gods your respect. Give this forest your respect.' Then he pointed at something… 'And they will show you the way,' he said."

"What'd 'e point at?" Ygritte said, for she had begun to hang on his words.

"A parting of the trees. A clearing. Through it, I could see the tower at Winterfell's keep. I told him it had not been there before, that it could not have been. 'Wasn't it?' he said, grinning at me."

"Ah, I see," Ygritte said. "He distracted you. Got you t'calm yourself an' think more clearly. Then you noticed what'd been there th'whole time."

"Or did the Old Gods show us the way?" Jon asked with a slight grin, but it melted soon. "I've gone over and over it in my head a thousand times, and I'm no closer to a conclusion than I was when I was ten. My father believed in them, though. Whether or not I was just unobservant and did not notice a clearing that was already there, my father put the whole of his faith in the Old Gods. That much I know."

"What 'bout you, Jon Snow?" Ygritte asked.

"I think I want to believe in them," he whispered uneasily, "but to do that would be to accept that they are pleased with what's gone on of late. All this war and fear and death…"

"You b'lieve," Ygritte whispered.

Jon's eyes looked up from the fire at her.

"Else you'd not spend so much time resentin' 'em for the world's ills. You can't resent what's not there t'exist," she said.

"Perhaps you're right," Jon said. "I think more than anything that I wish I could believe in something with as much conviction as my father believed in the Old Gods. I suppose I just haven't found that connection, or had that moment, or lived that circumstance that'll prove to me that they hear and see and know all that transpires on this earth. I never knew what made my father believe so wholeheartedly in them. He never told me what turning point in his life caused him to give them his respect. Perhaps it was only that he was raised to do so. I want to have that sort of belief… the sort that's more than just saying I've got it."

"B'lieve in us," Ygritte said. "In your family. The gods're in such love as well."

He smiled at her just then, taking in the sight of the firelight making all the reds and golds of her hair dance around her face. The meat was finished cooking, however, and soon he was sliding it off the skewer. They split it equally, falling silent for a while as they ate. In time, Jon was grinning at her again.

"Your turn," he said.

"For what?" Ygritte said, her head canting to the side.

"A story about a time when you got lost. There has to be one," he said.

"I never get lost," she said with playful haughtiness.

"Never?" Jon pressed.

"Well, al'right, maybe there was one time," she admitted.

"How old were you?" he asked.

"Hmm… four, I reckon," she said.

"Four? That's awfully young," he said. "Where did you get lost?"

"Not far from camp. Me mum 'ad let me out of 'er sight for only a moment, an' I was off," she said. "Pickin' up twigs for th'fires. Thought I was 'elpin'. Might be I was, too, until I found a bear."

"A bear?!" Jon exclaimed, nearly choking on his supper. "A cub, or…?"

"Nah," Ygritte said with an ominous and theatrical air, "t'was a large brown one. Male. Jus' a few feet from me."

"You're making this up," Jon said, with eyes wide and shaking his head.

"Are you callin' me a liar, Jon Snow? You've got a very cold night ahead of ya now. Enjoy your loneliness," she said, feigning insult.

"Why didn't it kill you, then?" Jon asked, chuckling.

"Tha's what made it so odd," Ygritte said, her smile leaving her. "It jus' sat by me. Tha's all. It jus' sat… like your lord father sat with you. An' I was too scared to move so I stood an' stared at 'im. Me mum found me starin' at th'bear an' thought I was done for, but when th'hunters – 'cludin' 'erself – retrieved their spears an' bows t'take down the beast, me mum made 'em hold."

"What for?" Jon asked. He had stopped eating for all his interest in her story. The meat was already getting cold, despite that it had not been long since it was removed from over the fire.

"The bear weren't aggressive none. It jus' stared at me. Red 'air's lucky. I was kissed by fire, an' bears know better'n t'mess wit' fire," she said. "Least tha's what I was told. Me mum told me years later for I remembered none of it. They let th'bear move on as 'e pleased, which 'e did after some time. I was lucky, they all said, an' that was no bear. 'T'was one o' th' Old Ones. Wise an' ancient as time itself. Best not t'kill it. "

"A god?" Jon asked.

Ygritte nodded.

"Do you really believe that?" Jon asked.

"I believe somethin' made that bear not tear me down t'bits an' bones," Ygritte said. "What't was, I can't say. Might be that bear saw somethin' in me. Might be th'gods gave 'im sight other bears didn't 'ave. Or maybe th'gods were watchin' over me, protectin' me, but how 'r why 'r if it's all true, I don't know. Never will."

She shrugged with an air of finality as Jon snuffed the fire. He checked Tor and found the boy to be deeply asleep. Ghost looked to him as he knelt to kiss Tor on his forehead, but then lay back down when Jon moved away. With Ghost to watch over them all, Jon and Ygritte settled down to sleep as well.

"D'you miss your father, Jon Snow?" Ygritte whispered as Jon held her from behind, cradling her body with his own.

"Yes," Jon admitted. "Very much. Do you miss your mother?"

"I ain't got time t'miss 'er," Ygritte said quickly, dismissively. "Too busy an' tired most oft t'think much on 'er."

Jon knew that meant that she did.

Fragment IV – Ancient Life (Ygritte)

Ygritte awoke just before sunrise nearly every morning on her own, as she had trained herself to do for years. Although there was no sun to be seen, she was certain that it was early morning. She helped Jon pack up their camp and then nursed Tor as Jon lit one of the torches and wandered a little ways down each stretch of cave, attempting to determine which path they should take. Ghost wandered as well, sniffing the ground and listening for sounds.

When she was finished with Tor, Ygritte called to Ghost and helped the baby sit on the wolf's back. Just then, she heard Jon down one of the leftmost corridors.

"Ygritte! Come look at this!" he said loudly. The sounds of his voice echoed all around her.

Ghost followed her dutifully but then surpassed her when he caught sight of Jon. She found him holding the torch up to a tall wall of glistening rock that seemed to slope high above them in a curved manner. Ygritte touched her hand to it, inspecting its surface.

"Now this's carved," she said, squinting in the dim light as she ran her fingertips over the smooth bumps in the stone, "but long ago."

"That's not what I wanted to show you," Jon said, moving the torch upwards and to his right.

Ygritte stared open-mouth at what she saw. In colors of white, black, brown, and yellow, carvings of what looked like large deer-like creatures danced across the wall. Slender figures taller than the deer held and threw spears at them. Others shot bows, their arrows finding the hearts of the deer. Far behind these warriors, shorter figures held children in their arms or held their hands as they stood close together.

"Did your people do this, you think? Years ago?" Jon asked.

"Don't know…" Ygritte whispered.

"Look here," Jon said, moving behind her. "There's more."

Ygritte nearly lost her breath when she saw the opposite wall of the cave. Every inch of it was covered with colored paint of some kind. The paint was made of a hard, waxy substance that clung to the walls even as old as it must have been. It had been used to fill the cracks and grooves of the carvings, giving them color and life. That was not what surprised her most about the drawings. There was a new color on this wall… blue.

The warriors and their families had been depicted in pale yellow paint. More of them were there on this wall, but others stood behind them now. Taller, thinner figures with large blue eyes bearing weapons far larger than any the warriors possessed loomed near them. Behind the line of these white figures was a mess of white paint. The whole of the wall had been covered with it. Ygritte followed Jon as he moved the torch. The white paint did not stop until the cave took a sharp turn and the smooth surface of the wall was disrupted.

"What is all this?" Jon asked, looking at the white paint.

"Winter," Ygritte whispered.

"Are these… White Walkers?" Jon whispered back, pointing to a white figure with blue eyes that held a spear.

Ygritte could not bring herself to answer. Instead, she looked behind her to make sure that Tor was close, shivering a little in the cold.

"What is he doing?" Jon whispered, pointing to one of the warriors. He was knelt before these tall white beings, offering his sword to them.

"Bein' stupid," Ygritte scoffed.

"No, really," Jon said, fascinated by it. "Is he making peace with them?"

"No one makes peace wit' their kind," Ygritte said ominously. "All they bring's death."

"At least he's offering his sword and not his child," Jon said bitterly, remembering the fate of Craster's sons.

"No one makes peace wit' th'likes o' them," Ygritte insisted. "Not anyhow."

"Then what does this mean?" he asked, tapping on the rock with his gloved forefinger.

"Don't know," she said. "Might be 'tis a fable o' some kind, meant to keep wee ones in line."

"If that were true, they would be offering their children," Jon said with a smirk.

"Let's go back," she said warily.

"Back… to where?" Jon asked.

"Back out of 'ere. Out o' this cave. Back to th'hills an' plains," she said.

"What?" Jon asked. "Why?"

Ygritte stared at the mural and shook her head. "Somethin's not right."

"It's just a painting. Maybe your ancestors passed through here a long time ago and thought to leave their marks. It might mean we're on the right path, choosing this cave. Maybe you were right and this cave will take us underneath the Wall," he said.

Ygritte shook her head again, still not looking at him. She could not take her eyes off the white figures with blue eyes. For a moment, she almost thought she saw it move.

"Maybe Gendel's children lived here once," Jon said with a spirited smile.

She saw that smile when she finally turned then to look at him and sighed. Her gaze fell and her brow furrowed with concern. "Tha's… tha's just a story, Jon Snow."

"You don't believe that," he said. "I know you don't."

"I ain't never seen 'em," Ygritte said. "I don't know o' no one who 'as, either."

"That doesn't mean they didn't exist once," Jon said.

"These're men like us," Ygritte said, pointing to the kneeling warrior.

"So was Gendel," Jon said.

"What're you sayin'?" Ygritte said with a hint of frustration.

"Maybe we'll learn something," Jon whispered. "Maybe there are other parts of the story to be found." He touched his hand to the mural once more, gently brushing off the dust that lingered around some of the waxy paint.

"I don't think I want to know the end t'this story," Ygritte said nervously.

"We've got food yet. Let's continue on a bit more," Jon said. "We've your markings to fall back on if we do need to leave."

Ygritte nodded reluctantly.

"Go!" Tor yelled from atop Ghost's back. He squirmed on his little bottom to no avail. Ghost stood, still and rigid, waiting for Jon's command.

"See? Even Tor wants to press on," Jon said.

"Like father, like son. No brains i'their skulls," Ygritte said playfully.

"With me, Ghost," Jon said, merely smirking at Ygritte's humor.

The unsettling feeling the mural had given Ygritte stayed with her throughout the day. She found herself traveling in silence, content to follow Jon as he walked with a torch held high. In the dark, moist, wide open caverns she felt as if she were being watched. In the dry, narrow tunnels she felt smothered by the walls, as if they would collapse upon her at any moment.

Tor, however, was very vocal up until it was time for him to be fed. Once he had eaten, he was too tired to properly hold onto Ghost. Ygritte carried him in the sling on her back until she and Jon finally decided to settle down for the night. Or at least what we think might be night. Can't much tell down 'ere.

It was much colder now, and that told Ygritte they were far underground and possibly moving northward. All their extra furs were put on during the day and left on at night to sleep. Ygritte shivered as she lay on her side and in Jon's arms, attempting to relax herself. Every time she thought she might drift off, she heard them again. Voices. The smallest o' stray whispers. Can't make out what they're sayin'. Ain't any language o' mine. She would have said something to Jon but for the fact that she was not sure the voices actually existed. 'Tis me own worry. Or th'drippin' o' water. Or th'rustlin' 'round o' wee creatures that live in th'caves… No man lives this far in… this deep…

Jon was already feeding Ghost some of their meat supply when Ygritte awoke the next morning. Yawning widely and rubbing her face, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why didn't ya wake me?" she asked.

"You seemed tired," Jon said, shrugging.

"Aye, I'm tired ev'ry day. Don't mean I shouldn't move me arse an' start doin' what I need to," she said. She moved to sit on a nearby rock.

"Mama…" Tor begged, crawling to her with a look of sad hunger on his face.

"I know, Tor. Your father decided t'not wake me, so you've 'im t'thank for your angry belly," Ygritte said, lifting the baby onto her lap.

"Did you hear that, Ghost?" Jon asked. "It's my fault Ygritte didn't wake up like she usually does every morning, heh."

Ghost stopped eating for a moment and looked up at Jon. Licking his chops, he was too eager to return to his meal to continue to pay attention to the conversation. He bowed his head again and tore at the meat.

"Th'lack o' light's messin' wit' me senses. Don't know what time o' day 'r night't is," Ygritte said, but then she looked down at Tor while he nursed. "You don't care a whit, do ya wee one? So long as your belly's full an' your mum an' dad're beside you, right? Nothin' else matters?"

Tor smiled, watching her face with wide, innocent eyes.

"What are the White Walkers, Ygritte? What do the Free Folk believe?" Jon asked her suddenly.

"No one knows. An ancient evil. Somethin' t'not be messed 'round wit'," she replied.

"Are you sure they're evil?" he asked.

She stared at him as though he were daft. "What good d'you know murders honest men, unarmed women, an' innocent wee ones?"

"What are we to them?" he asked.

Ygritte shrugged. Wha's 'e on about now? 'Tis that mural. Tha's wha's got 'im all up inside 'is 'ead 'stead of out 'ere wit' me.

"Do they see it that way?" he asked.

"Does who see what what way?" she asked, perplexed by him.

"That what they're doing is evil. Do you consider the families of the animals you kill, or do you just kill them to survive?" he asked.

"They don't eat us, Jon Snow," she said. "They're dead as th'ground. Body-robbers an' soul-snatchers, th'lot of 'em are. Turnin' us int'Others an' th'like. They don't eat 'r drink 'r care. They just murder an' terrorize an' steal our souls 'cause they can. There ain't no more meanin' but that t'be found in't."

"Is it that there's no more meaning, or that the Free Folk are afraid of what that meaning might be?" he asked.

Taken aback, Ygritte recoiled a bit, her brow furrowing in nervous confusion. "Some things should jus' be left well 'nough alone, Jon Snow," she said firmly.

Jon thought for a long while before trying again. "At Winterfell, there were these insects… My father said it was too cold for them at the height of winter, but if it got warm enough – well, warmer, at least, than it was in winter – they would seep out of the ground and attack the trees. They made thousands of holes in the wood, destroying the trunks and branches and causing death. All it took was a bit of wind or a rare strike of lightning to topple those that were affected. If left unchecked, these insects would overpopulate themselves and destroy the forest, and the heart of the Godswood with it. Therefore, my father was forced to burn them in their burrows before many of them could even get to the trees. He would have his men pour oil down into their nests and set them ablaze with torches."

"An' 'ow's that knowin' one's place within Nature?" Ygritte challenged.

"He was Warden of the North," he explained. "It was his charge to protect it. Part of defending the North meant defending the Godswood. That was our place as Starks."

"Al'right so 'e burned a few bugs an' protected th'forests. Where's the 'arm in that?" she asked.

"Surely all were killed, right? Indiscriminately? The very young, the very old, ones who had tasted wood, and ones who had not," Jon offered.

"I'm not followin'," Ygritte said. "Bugs don't 'ave feelin's, Jon Snow. They're not like us."

"First of all, how do you know they don't feel anything, and second of all, imagine for a moment that they do," he said.

Ygritte's brow furrowed and her head canted to the side. "'T'would be sad, then, I s'pose," she whispered.

"What if… the Godswood at Winterfell is the world, the White Walkers are my father's men with oil and torches… and we… are the insects? Maybe… the gods consider us an unwanted scourge on the earth that must be controlled or else we'd overrun everything," he said.

"White Walkers aren't gods, Jon Snow," Ygritte said.

"But they could be their eyes, ears, and hands," Jon whispered.

Ygritte's eyes widened. I ain't never thought 'bout it much like that before… "Then why come down from th'North where there're th'least amount of us t'be found? If the Walkers want t'stop humans from runnin' over everythin', they should 'ead south t'where you all live in your crowded cities an' bleed th'earth dry of all its beauty an' bounty. We care a lot more for the sacredness of nature than you south'rners do. We live with th'earth, not in spite of it," she said haughtily.

"But if the North is their Godswood, their heart, their sacred place, then the true threat is when we get too close to it," Jon continued. "Perhaps the White Walkers only emerge when the threat becomes too real to be ignored. That's when they emerge from their sanctuary, their domain… and push the threat away. I've seen enough of people – even Northfolk – to know that sometimes fear and death is the only message loud and clear enough to get through to people. Do you not think it is a very large coincidence that winter should come now? That the White Walkers should threatened us now? That now, when the Seven Kingdoms are in turmoil and the lords and kings are moving against each other, brother against brother, young against old, that forces older than words, Ygritte…. are pushing back? If they're powerful enough to do that, then… aren't they also powerful enough to know what's coming before we do? Maybe they've seen the outcome of all this fighting on the world and our race as a whole… and it isn't a favorable one."

"How else're we t'survive if not by 'untin' an' killin'? What else would they 'ave us do? We can't wish food into bein', Jon Snow. We've got t'survive some'ow. We can't ignore our enemies, neither. To survive, we've got t'fight to get what we need an' then once we 'ave it, we fight t'keep it," Ygritte said.

"Maybe we're not meant to," Jon whispered. "Not all of us, and not forever. Maybe we've gone too far. Done too much. That might be what it means to 'know your place,' like my father said to me that day I lost my way in the woods at Winterfell. It's knowing when to fight for your survival and when to understand… that you are not in control. What if… our time on earth is done… or at least changing? What if some… era… some circle… is nearing completion and the age of men is destined to end soon? What if now is the time when the gods will decide to let us continue on in this world or to strike us from it and we've brought on the worst of judgments with all that we've done? The Old Gods could be fed up, and the White Walkers could be their executioners."

"Who're they t'decide for us?" she asked defiantly, her jaw jutting to the side in anger.

"The Old Ones. Older than time, Ygritte. You said so yourself, they're ancient. These White Walkers… might be the bannermen of the Old Gods." Jon said, becoming more fervent with each word.

"I think your father told ya too many 'alf-cooked tales, Jon Snow," Ygritte said, but when she saw how serious Jon was about it, she decided to indulge him a little more. "Right, well… why're there some of us that can defeat 'em if they're 'ere t'wipe us out?"

"Maybe it isn't an outright execution, maybe it's a trial. There might still be time for us to prove our worth to the gods once more, to renew their faith in us, and to show them that we still deserve a place on this earth."

"Why let us 'ave second chances at all?" she asked, shrugging. "Th'gods're th'gods. They do as they please. So if they've decided that we're done… then let us be done. Don't torture us an' scare us 'alf out of our minds."

"If the insects at Winterfell had restrained themselves and took only a bit of wood, or if they found a less destructive means of survival, would my father have been forced to burn them all?" Jon asked.

"No, I reckon not, but insects can't be taught t'change their ways 'r respect th'gods' auth'rity an' th'lives o' others," Ygritte said.

"Perhaps the Old Gods sent the White Walkers to determine if people are the same way…" Jon said.

Ygritte stared wide-eye at him. Unable to keep herself from getting lost in thought along with him. If what he's sayin' makes no sense't all t'me, if I don't believe none of it… then why am I tremblin' so?

"An' they learned their lesson?" Ygritte asked. "Th'men in those carvin's? Is that what you're tryin' t'say?"

"At some point in history, someone made peace with the White Walkers," Jon said firmly. "I want to know how."

Fragment V – Gone (Jon)

It was difficult to know what time they woke the following morn due to the lack of sunlight and other natural cues. Jon had to trust his body when it told him it was time to start the day. Ygritte was already awake when he stirred – as was usually the case – but Tor still slept curled up near Ghost. The wolf turned to Jon when he sat up, asking with his soulful eyes if it was all right to stand and rouse the child. Jon went to Tor and gently rubbed his back until he was awake. No longer needing to provide the child with warmth and protection, Ghost immediately stood and began wandering the cave curiously.

Tor was still sleepy as Jon lifted him into his arms and kissed his cheek. His black curls were flattened on one side of his head. Ygritte came to him now and combed the curls back into place with her fingers.

"I've been up for a while. He's usu'lly beggin' t'be fed by now. I think all this excitement we've been 'avin' in th'cave's wearin' 'im out," she said with a smile.

Tor began to slowly rub his right eye with his fist, and then his bottom lip curled. He started to whine and cry pitifully.

Ygritte laughed. "Ah, there't is. He got 'round to't eventu'lly," she said. "Come 'ere, wee one. Time for breakfast. Oh, there, now. Hush, hush…"

Jon passed Tor to Ygritte even as the child reached eagerly toward her. He took to packing up the rest of their camp while Ygritte nursed Tor and Ghost patrolled the mouths of all the passageways leading out of their current cave. He chewed on some dried venison as he took the torch Ygritte had lit and surveyed their surroundings as well.

"Which way do you suppose we should try?" he asked.

"Not sure," Ygritte said, looking up from a now contented Tor. His tears had stopped, and he watched Ygritte's face intently as he was often wont to do whenever he nursed. One of his hands reached idly out to play with her long red hair. Ygritte pointed to one of the paths leading out of their cave. "…but that one slopes downward a bit."

"Do we want to move downward?" Jon asked.

"We do if we mean t'go 'neath a massive wall o' ice," she said, grinning.

"All right," Jon said. "I'm ready whenever you are." He sat beside her and watched his son nurse, slipping his arm around Ygritte affectionately, and then they were on the move once more.

They walked for some time, with Ygritte taking the lead, Jon watching from behind, and Tor riding Ghost between them. The path they had chosen grew narrower over time, and Jon almost had a mind to tell Ygritte they should double back and try a different one. This cave probably ends in nothing, he mused, and yet he still noted that the floor of it was quite flat and smooth. Maybe water used to rushing through here years ago, wearing away the rock. It did slope downward slightly, though he was no longer certain in what direction they were walking, or if any of these caves actually went underneath the Wall as Ygritte hoped.

Here and there Ygritte carved her arrows into the walls to mark which way they had taken. Jon was confident they could find their way back if the need arose, and despite his comments to her earlier in their journey through the caves, he did trust her tracking instincts. He was about to ask Ygritte about the possibility that this particular path might be a dead end when Ghost stopped short and sniffed the air.

"What is it, Ghost?" Jon asked his friend.

Ygritte turned and looked down at the wolf.

Ghost was perfectly still except for his ears. They flicked this way and that, hearing something Jon and Ygritte could not. Then he sniffed the air again.

"Does 'e smell somethin'?" Ygritte asked.

"It could just be that he's never been this far inside a cave before. It has a mustier, wetter, more mineral smell than he's probably used to," Jon said.

"That wouldn't make 'im stop dead an' stand still as stone like that," Ygritte said.

Ghost suddenly started walking again, causing Tor to grab tightly onto his fur once more. The child balanced awkwardly as the wolf left off down the path. Ygritte followed closely with the torch, casting Jon a nervous glance behind her. The cave floor sloped more sharply and the path became wider until it opened into a cavern that most likely once held an underground lake not unlike the one they had crossed the day before. This one had dried up somewhat, however, and surrounding what was left of it was dark, rich, soft soil that smelled like the very heart of the earth itself to Jon. Ghost's paws sunk into it, as did Jon's and Ygritte's boots, as they walked up to the edge of the water and looked around.

"Was this what 'e was smellin'?" Ygritte asked.

"I don't know," Jon whispered.

"Why're you whisperin'?" she asked.

"Don't know that either," Jon whispered with a slight smile.

He felt a presence in the cavern he could not put into words, and yet he saw nothing that would give credence to that notion. Ghost's reaction earlier had done nothing to calm his nerves, however. He smelled something unfamiliar, something strange enough for him to run and look for it, Jon mused. Turning slowly around, he took in the sight of the lake, the moist walls with water trickling through the rocks, the uneven ground, the spongy, dark soil, and the jagged formations hanging from the top of the cavern… until something stopped him.

Leaning against a far stone wall was a skeleton, suited and armed, with its jaw hanging open and hands clutching a two-handed sword. Jon stared at it, not having the words to say to Ygritte to get her to turn around as well. The sight of the skeleton nearly stopped his heart, for it seemed to be watching them. It seems alive. Watching the eyes, Jon saw no blue light within them, and the skeleton never moved.

He jumped when he heard Ygritte gasp and draw her bow. She had an arrow knocked and ready before he could say anything to stop her. The torch she was holding had fallen to the ground, still lit. Jon took it into his own hand, never taking his eyes from the skeleton.

"I don't think it's one of them," Jon whispered.

Ygritte said nothing, but kept the arrow pointed at the skeleton. Jon approached it, eager to know who the man might have been. Kneeling before it and with cautious hands, Jon slid the sword out of the skeleton's hands. Its head tumbled forward and its helm fell off. It rolled across the ground even as Jon stared at the skeleton's wispy head of gray, dry, brittle hair.

The sword had no markings on it, but it reminded him of the type of swords they made at Winterfell, well struck and from good steel stock. Looking to the right of the skeleton, Jon saw a hefty pouch on its belt had opened, the contents spilling out. He stared at the gold coins and red, green, white, and yellow gems that littered the floor of the cave beside the dead man with wide and apprehensive eyes.

"Wha's all this?" Ygritte asked, clearly alarmed. "His armor's ours, bits of it… but there's also…"

"…Northman's armor. The breastplate and helm," Jon whispered.

"But 'e's got all manner of 'ides an' 'air an' skins, too," Ygritte said, confused by the man's mismatched trappings.

"Aye," Jon said, "and none of these coins or gems have any dust on them. They're completely clean," he said, pointing to them. He stood, still holding the sword in his hands.

"Who's sword's that?" Ygritte asked, finally loosening the tension in her bowstring.

"Hard to say. Northern in its make, but that's all I can discern about it. There's no name or sigil or markings of any kind."

"Look't this…" Ygritte said, putting her bow away and reaching for a shiny, black dagger to the skeleton's left.

"Dragonglass," Jon whispered.

"Is't now?" Ygritte asked, staring at it in wonder.

"Aye. I've seen another just like't," he said. Suddenly feeling rather pensive with regard to the dead man's fate, Jon knelt down again and stared at the skull. It was caved in on its left side. This man died a brutal death. I hope he did not linger in pain for very long.

"What man would 'ave this style o' dress?" Ygritte asked, her nose scrunching up and her head canting to the side for all her bewilderment.

"None," Jon said. "It's staged."

"Wha?" Ygritte asked.

"It's a contrived scene. Someone put him here for us to find," Jon said.

"Nah," Ygritte said. "There ain't no one down 'ere."

"Are you certain of that?" Jon asked.

He expected her to deny it outright, to tease him for his childish apprehension. Instead, she swallowed hard and looked away. They stood in silence for some time, staring at the skeleton and his strange collection of supplies, before Ygritte dropped the dragonglass dagger near the man and sighed heavily.

"We don't know this man." She shook her head with superstitious yet solid conviction. "We should bury 'im. Give 'im the benefit of th'doubt that 'is was a life worth honorin'. Can't burn 'im in 'ere, we'd smoke ourselves out, but we can give 'im back to th'earth. We should do right by 'im an' bury 'im."

"With his weapons and all his wealth," Jon insisted, nodding in agreement.

"Aye," Ygritte said in unwavering agreement.

Ghost stood silently watching with Tor dozing on his back as Jon and Ygritte began to dig in the moist, cool soil. They dug a shallow grave with their gloved hands and then went to the skeleton. Laying his weapons, treasure, and helm aside and closing the pouch of treasure, they took hold of the dead man and lifted him carefully into the grave. A few bones fell away despite their care as they arranged the man in a peaceful position.

Ygritte collected the wayward bones that had fallen as Jon slid the dragonglass into the man's bony hands and laid it on top of him. The hands were over the skeleton's chest, inasmuch as they could be, for the small bones of the fingers had started to crumble. It'll have to do. Jon then replaced the skeleton's helm – which bore a hole in it on the same side as the crushed half of the man's skull – and closed the jaw. Lastly, he picked up the coins and gems that had fallen out of the pouch and stuffed them back inside it.

They pushed the loose earth back into the grave and over the dead man, covering him and all that belonged to him. Ygritte collected rocks and began piling them on top of the grave to form a mound while Jon plunged the man's sword into the earth near where the skeleton's head was buried. This will mark your place, sir, should anyone ever come looking for you. Jon knew no one ever would, not this far into the caves, anyway. It was important to him, nevertheless, that the man's final resting place be made clear.

Jon stood with his hands clasped and head bowed for a moment as Ygritte finished with the rocks. It was a decent grave, Jon thought, for what he hoped had been an equally decent man.

"Let's go," Jon whispered.

Ygritte nodded, but when she turned around to face him, her expression startled him. "Where's Tor?" she asked.

Neither Ghost nor Tor was anywhere to be seen, but Jon was not too worried. "He's just wandered off. Or rather, Ghost has."

"He doesn't usu'lly do that…" Ygritte said, walking to the far side of the cavern.

"He smelled something before, he's probably just exploring," Jon said. "Ghost! To me, Ghost!"

They waited for a time, but nothing was heard and Ghost did not return.

"Ghost!" Jon called again.

"Why isn't 'e comin'?" Ygritte asked breathlessly, beginning to get upset.

"I don't know," Jon answered.

"Tor!" Ygritte called. "Where'd you get off to, Tor?!"

They searched the cavern and found nothing. Ygritte wanted to split up, but Jon was adamant that they should stay together. He still had faith that Ghost would return and getting themselves lost in the meantime would accomplish nothing, certainly. Ygritte left off down one of the paths, however, after frantically carving an arrow into the wall near its mouth. Jon followed her dutifully, helping her call for Ghost and for their son.

When that particular path turned up nothing, Jon took hold of Ygritte's arm. She stopped and looked down at his hand in frustration before wrenching her arm free of his grasp and continuing on.

"Ygritte," he called, but she ignored him.

Jon sighed, feeling that they were getting so far away from the open cavern where Ghost and Tor were probably already waiting for them. "Stop," he said to her. When she did not, he grabbed her arm again.

"Let go o' me!" she yelled.

"We cannot wander too far away or they won't know where to look for us," Jon said.

"He's one, Jon. Our wee one's but one year old. Tor can't look for anyone," Ygritte said. Her voice had broken when she said it, and her eyes filled with tears. She turned away from him when her bottom lip began to tremble.

He was shocked for a moment to see Ygritte cry so quickly, but he knew how much she loved Tor. I love my son as well, but Ygritte's bonded far more with him than I have. It's just the nature of the relationship between mother and child. "Listen… They can't have gone far. Ghost probably just decided to scout a little because we were taking a while with the grave. He'll return to that large cavern we were just in, and so we should wait there for him," Jon said.

"He's got a nose. He can find us 'ere, too," Ygritte said bitterly.

"Let's go back. Please?" Jon asked her gently. "They're probably already there."

"What if he's fallen somewhere, hmm? What if 'e needs our 'elp an' you jus' want t'bandon 'im?" she asked.

"I'm not abandoning anyone," Jon said. "If Tor was hurt or if he'd fallen, we'd hear him crying, wouldn't we?"

"Not if he's so far away that we couldn't," she insisted.

"He can't be, Ygritte, he's only just left," Jon said.

"That wolf of yours runs pretty fast," Ygritte said.

"Not with Tor on his back, he doesn't," Jon said.

"We 'ad our backs turned to 'em for so long," she said, getting more and more upset. "We should 'ave been watchin' 'em…"

"I'm sure they're fine," Jon said. "Ghost would never put Tor in danger."

Ygritte folded her arms and looked behind her at the unexplored cave. Jon stepped closer to her and took gentle hold of her shoulders, causing here to turn back to him.

"Come back with me. They've probably come back to that cavern by now," he whispered.

Ygritte nodded but she did not look at all like she believed what he had said. He followed her as she doubled back and walked purposefully back to the cavern, torch in hand. Jon almost walked into her, however, when they reached the cavern. That was how suddenly she stopped.

"What's wrong? What is it?" he asked her, but then he saw them himself.

They were everywhere, different sizes and styles, on the walls and floor and on the hanging rocks that dripped cold water down on them. Arrows... carved into the stone. Ygritte's eyes were wide as she lifted the torch and slowly walked around the cavern. The round clearing with multiple caves and paths leading out of it had begun to look the same no matter where he looked. Which way did we come from again? This way? That one? There are arrows everywhere!

"Seven hells," Jon snow whispered, swallowing hard.

"We're not alone down 'ere, Jon Snow…" Ygritte whispered in fear.

Fragment VI – Despair (Ygritte)

They spent the whole day – and possibly well into the night for all they could tell – searching for Tor and Ghost, but came up empty-handed. No matter where they went, whether it seemed familiar or not, carved arrows littered every surface of rock, confounding their senses of direction. By the time Ygritte sat down hard on a nearby rock as one of the few torches they had left began to flicker and die, she was forced to admit that she was utterly lost. She was also forced to admit to herself that this was real. Tor was truly missing and she could not help but feel responsible. As the hours went by, it seemed less and less likely to Ygritte that Tor would be found. Imagining never seeing him again made her stomach turn in the most unsettling and terrifying way.

Exhausted and numb inside, Ygritte sat in silence, feeling warm tears fall down her cheeks from her sore and unblinking eyes. Jon slowly sat down next to her. She heard him sigh, but he said nothing. His encouragement and optimistic words of hope to her had stopped an hour or two ago. The ceasing of them was enough to make Ygritte think that Jon had reached the same conclusion she had. We might never find 'im. Our wee one's lost in 'ere an' we might not find 'im in time.

She did not know how long they sat there before Jon spoke. Time meant little to her just then. So many things in her life meant next to nothing without Tor.

"Ghost will pick up our scent eventually," he whispered.

"We've been wanderin' for hours in circles, Jon Snow," Ygritte said, her voice raspy and dry. "Our scent's as tangled as a bear's matted backside right now."

"It will be all right, Ygritte," he said.

She turned to him suddenly and shot him an irritated glance in the fading light of their torch. She had wanted so badly for him to continue his encouraging words, but now that he had spoken a few of them, all they did was enrage her. "Oh, it will, will't? An' 'ow d'you figure that? Tor can't live long without food, Jon Snow. It's been 'ours an' 'ours. An' if your wolf could really find us, 'e'd 'ave done it long before now."

"Tor will be all right for a while yet," Jon said.

"You don't know that," Ygritte said. "Why isn't 'e cryin' for me? Why don't I 'ear 'im? He's either so far away that 'e can't 'ear me or… or…"

"Don't," Jon said. "Don't say it."

"Well, what d'you suppose 'appened an' why isn't 'e answerin' me?!" Ygritte yelled.

"I don't know!" Jon yelled back. "If I knew, do you think I would keep it from you?"

"Why not? You've kept things from me before," she said venomously.

"You're really going to dig all that up again?" Jon said, affronted by her words. "After all I've done for you – for him – you're still going to distrust me?"

Ygritte did not answer him. She had not meant to say what she did – not really – it was only that she was angry and afraid and he was the only one there to be the object of her wrath. She regretted hurting his feelings, but she could not bring herself to apologize. When Jon moved to hold her, however, her anger flared again.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, standing and stepping some distance away from him.

"Why are you upset with me?!" Jon yelled. "How is this my fault?!"

"I wanted t'leave these caves! I wanted to turn back but you said no, let's keep on explorin'!" she yelled.

"How was I supposed to know this would happen?!" he asked.

"You should 'ave been watchin' 'im!" Ygritte said.

"So should you!" Jon threw back. "Look, we both should have been watching him, but that doesn't mean we meant for him to get lost or that we should start blaming ourselves."

"Ghost is your wolf, Jon Snow," Ygritte said. "Your wolf ran off with him."

"So now it's Ghost's fault?" Jon asked, throwing up his hands at her. "Do you hear yourself? Tor didn't answer us, no, but neither did Ghost answer me, so wherever he is, he's not in any distress or I would hear him howling or growling or otherwise."

"Or they're so far away that they can't 'ear us," Ygritte insisted. "Or they're dead. They could 'ave slipped from a ledge or something and… and…"

She felt the emotion well up inside her as she spoke the words, but although she pressed her lips together afterward to prevent herself from showing any of it, a vulnerable little noise escaped her nonetheless. It embarrassed and angered her, this noise but it also broke down the wall she had built to hold all the frustrations of the day in check. Her shaking hand rose and she covered her mouth.

"We need to get some sleep," Jon said slowly. "We've been searching all day, and we've only a few more torches left. We should rest and continue when we wake up."

"How am I supposed t'sleep?!" Ygritte yelled. "My son's gone. He's gone! Your wolf ran off with him!"

"He's not your son, Ygritte, he's ours!" Jon yelled back, standing now and getting very close to her.

Ygritte held her ground. Her jaw jutted to the side a little as her eyes narrowed at him.

"You aren't the only one who lost him," Jon whispered. "I'm scared, too."

She turned her back to him because she felt that she was going to cry again. She was disgusted with how much she had cried that day, over and over, as if the tears would help anything. Her anger melted into despair, however, and she had to let the tears come as they would. It was not long before she needed Jon too much to continue to blame him for what had happened.

"You're right," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Jon whispered back. "I'm upset, too. And scared. And angry at myself for not watching him more closely. But we are where we are right now and nothing can change it. All we can do is all that we can. Isn't that what you always say to me? So let's get some sleep so that we're ready to start looking again tomorrow. If we continue on as exhausted as we are, we risk hurting ourselves or worse. We also… need to start rationing food and torches. We've only a little left of each."

"I'm sorry," Ygritte said again. "I didn't mean for it t'be like this. I never thought anything like this would 'appen, I jus' wanted so badly to go back north where I knew th'land an' come what may an' the gods be fierce but we'd survive't, Jon, I knew we would…" She was crying so hard by the end of it that Jon came around in front of her and took her into his arms. She let him do it this time. "But I was a fool."

"Neither one of us meant for this to happen," Jon whispered, caressing her hair and cradling her head in his hands. "Stop blaming yourself." He was quiet for some time, and then, "Lie down with me?"

Ygritte nodded. She was so tired she could barely see clearly. They laid out some furs to sleep on and lay down as their torch fizzled. Ygritte fell into a fitful sleep, smelling the smoke from the spent torch and feeling Jon's warmth as he held her from behind.

The next day was much like the previous one. They called for Tor and Ghost, searched every cave and path they came across, and attempted to get their bearings to no avail. They hesitated to leave the caves that were covered with carved arrows, as untouched walls meant they were wandering far from the location where Tor went missing. Jon reminded her of their shortage of food and torches but Ygritte could just not bring herself to care about either. I'll search these caves starvin' an' blind if I must. 'Til I breathe my last breath, I won't stop lookin' for Tor.

"I'm not sure we could make it back out of these caves before the food runs out," Jon said after a long few hours of silence between them. "We've enough for one more meal each, and that's all."

"I don't want t'leave these caves, Jon Snow. I want t'find our wee one," she said.

"As do I, but at some point we need to… to realize that our own lives may be in danger as well," he said almost apologetically. "There isn't any food down here that I've seen, and-"

"I'll die 'ere before I abandon 'im," Ygritte interrupted through gritted teeth.

Jon's eyes were so sad then, but all he did was drop his gaze and nod. When their next torch burned out, they did not light another. They only had a few left. They took to holding hands and tracing the walls of the caves with their hands, stepping carefully lest the ground give way to anything they could not see. They moved slowly this way, but this did not prevent them for calling out to Tor and Ghost. Nothing and no one ever responded but their own echoing voices.

Ygritte could barely speak by the time they were forced to stop to camp again. Her voice was hoarse and her throat raw from crying out to Tor so often. A worse pain, however, was the ache in her breasts. They were swollen without Tor to feed, a constant reminder to her of just how long the small boy had been without food. Jon noticed her arms crossed loosely over her breasts and looked to her with concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"He needs to eat, Jon. He's not eatin' where 'e is. It's been so long," Ygritte whispered. Barely any sound came out, but Jon heard her nonetheless.

"I know," Jon whispered softly, having no other uplifting words to offer her.

In truth neither one of them knew just how long it had been since they first entered the cave Ygritte had found while hunting. Especially after they began their frantic search for Tor, Ygritte suspected that they had actually searched long into the night without even knowing it, and that more than two days had actually passed. She did not say this to Jon, for she did not want to worry him further, but she knew how much meat they had brought with them, and it would have lasted them longer than two days.

Her supposition that they had been searching a lot longer than they thought did nothing to calm her nerves. She was alarmed by how frantic she was to find her son, by how careless her footing had grown, and by how easily she cried. All her instincts and confidence had left her, and she was as an empty shell, wandering through life in a state of exhausted apathy. Then, all of a sudden, something would enrage or devastate her to the point of screaming or sobbing. Ygritte was afraid that she did not know herself anymore. I don't like what I've become in so short a time. Take away a mother's child an' this's what you 'ave… a ravin' banshee with no thought of 'erself in 'er 'ead. I jus' need 'im. I need 'im back. I can't go on livin' 'til I've got 'im 'eld snug in me arms an' I know 'e's safe.

They were starting to learn the caves now, even in the dark. Refusing the leave those marked with the multitudes of carved arrows, Jon and Ygritte knew well those few paths and caverns they had traced in darkness or scrutinized by torchlight. There was nowhere left to search, and waiting had not brought Ghost back to their trail as Jon had hoped. By what they could honestly not definitively say was nightfall, they sat down exhausted once more. Ygritte whimpered as she crossed her arms over her breasts again. They hurt so badly that she could barely think.

Neither one of them had eaten anything in hours – or a whole day, I don't even know 'nymore – and Ygritte's stomach rumbled so loudly that Jon turned to look at it. Then he noticed that she was cradling her breasts. She stared forward at nothing, her mind a blur of regret and sadness, but she could still seem him peripherally, looking her over.

"You know…" he said as gently as he could, "we could make use of the milk."

Ygritte shook her head adamantly and closed her eyes, forcing tears down her cheeks. "No," she said, starting to cry. Her bottom lip trembled violently "It's for Tor."

Jon put his arm around her and she moved to cling to him desperately. She sobbed the hardest she ever had in her life, feeling the pain of losing Tor surge through her faster than she could comprehend it all. She gripped the furs and hides Jon was wearing until her fingers were sore and sobbed so hard she could barely breathe.

"You are the strongest person I have ever known, Ygritte," Jon whispered to her. "This will not break you."

"It already 'as," she cried. "He's gone, Jon… My wee one is gone… He's gone…" She sobbed into his chest as he held her tightly. After a moment she realized her error. "Our wee one," she said.

"No," he said with such affection. "It hasn't. And we will find him."

When she lifted her head, she saw the look of glass in his eyes and the redness in them, but his tears did not fall the way hers did. Her first instinct was to b furious with him that he seemed to care so little for Tor as to not be nearly as affected by the loss, but she knew that was not true. He's holdin' me up. If 'e loses 'imself now, we both fall. He's knows that. I know he can see how hard I'm fallin' meself. 'Tis there in 'is eyes. I don't know wha's 'appenin' t'me! Losin' Tor was like watchin' me 'eart get ripped from me chest, cooked, an' et right in front o' me!

"I should be stronger," Ygritte said, squirming out of his arms, albeit gently. "I know. I don't know why I'm not, I jus'… I…"

Jon pulled her to him again. Her tears were slowing now, replaced by exhaustion. "You need him," he whispered.

"Aye," Ygritte sighed.

"So do I," he said. "That's why we're going to find him. Together."

She stared at him, letting herself believe his words and take comfort in their conviction rather than let her common sense tell her he had no way of knowing. She fell asleep in his arms, sitting near him, but found herself wrapped in furs and lying down beside him when she woke.

Fragment VII – Wolf Dreams (Jon)

Jon woke to the sounds of Ygritte screaming. Jolted from his deep slumber, Jon stumbled a little as he rose to his feet. Blinking and running his fingers through his hair, he willed himself awake. Longclaw was already in his hand, and he was prepared for a fight. Ygritte however, had covered her mouth with both hands and fallen to her knees beside something Jon could not see. Rushing to her, he saw that a tattered piece of gray cloth has been laid out on the slanted, flat face of a rock near where they had camped. By the light of Ygritte's torch, he could see that two large cuts of meat lay on the cloth. Beside them was a pile of dry sticks. They had been arranged rather ceremoniously as to suggest that it was an offering of some kind. Ygritte whimpered into her hands as she stared at the meat. Jon soon realized why.

"It's not Tor," he said, kneeling down beside her and putting his arm around her. "They're too large to be him."

"Ghost…" Ygritte asked with little more than a terrified whispered.

"I doubt it," he said, looking at the meat again. "It's not the right size or shape…"

"Are you sure it's not Tor?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Absolutely sure," Jon said. "You know it, as well. Look at it, Ygritte. You know meat and the anatomy of animals and people far better than I do. How could these steaks be Tor?"

"Aye," she said, nodding a bit. "You're right. I know, I just… I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he said, but he watched her face. He felt her shoulders shaking under his arm. Losing Tor has truly harmed Ygritte. She doesn't even trust her own judgment anymore. "Calm down," he whispered. "Shh… it's all right."

"What do we do wit' it?" she asked, finally looking at him.

Jon shrugged. "Eat it?" he said with a little grin. "We're hungry, aren't we?"

"Should we?" she asked. "We don't know where't came from – or what't came from – or who put it there."

"We should. And then we'll keep looking for Tor," he said.

Ygritte nodded with conviction and swiftly began to set up a cooking fire with the sticks that had been left for them. Jon saved one of the largest sticks to skewer the steaks, for lack of anything else to use. When he had skewered the first steak and lifted up the second, the cloth stuck to it and lifted off the cave floor as well. Underneath it was a large carved arrow.

He handed the skewer to Ygritte as he took their torch and wandered slowly in the direction the arrows pointed. Other arrows, smaller and poorly scribed, littered the cave floor, but this one had been larger and more carefully made. He found another one just like it some feet away. And then another one. And another. The fourth one was on a wall, angled upward toward a path that had previously contained no arrows at all.

"Jon!" he heard Ygritte call to him, for she could no longer see him from where she sat. "Don't run too far off, now."

His heart pounded so hard he could scarcely draw breath. Jon walked with purpose back to Ygritte and pointed to the first arrow that had been concealed under the cloth. "Look," he said firmly.

"It's an arrow, what of it? There're 'undreds of 'em all 'round us," she said in utter despair.

"Not like this. Not carved specifically like this and this one was directly underneath the meat," he said.

"So?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

"I've found several others carved in this manner. They all point toward that cave there." He indicated it to her and her eyes grew wide. "I think whoever left us this food wanted us to go that way."

"Let's go!" she said, jumping up instantly.

He caught her and held her still. She cast him an irritated glance. "Let's eat first. We need our strength. Then we'll search the path."

She was reluctant to wait for any reason, Jon could see, but she still agreed with him and went back to cooking the meat. As soon as it was ready – perhaps still a bit raw in the center, but they were too hungry and in too much of a hurry to care – they scarfed it down hungrily. It tasted good, Jon thought. Really good. Like mutton, but saltier. Satisfied for the first time in days and with renewed spirits, they doused their fire, packed up camp, and started off down the marked path.

Whether the hope was real or not, Jon did not know, but he was thankful for it nonetheless. It gave Ygritte renewed purpose, lifted her spirits, and helped her to find her strength, even as doubt crept into Jon's mind. Who or what is leaving these marks? Are they meant to help us, or lure us into a trap?

Jon let Ygritte track as she would, knowing that she felt guilty for leading their family into the sprawling web of caves in the first place. When whoever – or whatever – replicated her markings and caused them to become disoriented, she began to doubt her skill and knowledge as a tracker. Jon knew full well that none of this was Ygritte's fault, and yet he was keenly aware of her waning confidence, exacerbated by her grief over losing Tor. Thus, he silently followed behind her as she searched for arrows left by hands others than theirs. Jon pondered what hands might have carved the arrows, but far more than that he pondered what their motives might be.

As terrifying as the notion of Tor being abducted by someone living in the caves was to Jon, he had to admit that he vastly preferred that to Tor merely wandering off and dying of starvation or from not knowing enough to find his own water. He thought that Ygritte was focused solely on finding Tor until she slowly came to a stop and turned to him with a pensive furrow in her brow and sad eyes.

"Whatever 'appens, Jon Snow… I jus' want you t'know that I love you," she said.

He stepped closer to her and lifted the torch above them so he could see her face. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

She shook her head and looked away, swallowing hard. "Why wouldn't they jus' give 'im back to us?" she asked.

"Who?" he asked.

"Them that whisper at night. Them that carved these marks," she said, touching the latest arrow she had discovered.

"You heard whispering?" he asked.

"Aye," Ygritte said. "Last night, an' th'night before."

"What did they say?" Jon asked with great interest.

"Don't know. Weren't any tongue I knew," she said.

"I've been thinking, too," Jon said. "Maybe someone found him and they're taking care of him."

"Fine 'nough but now give 'im back," she said with seething frustration. "We must 'ave done somethin' wrong."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"That dead man back there. Way back. The one we put in th'ground…" she whispered.

"Aye…?" Jon said.

"That was a test," Ygritte said, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the arrow as she traced the carving with her fingertips. "He was set up for us, like you said. Planted there for us t'see. We were meant to find 'im. Meant t'react to 'im some'ow. What if th'answer we gave t'their question… was wrong?"

"Whose question?' Jon asked.

"Them that whisper…" Ygritte replied ominously. She looked at him now with such worry in her eyes, such desperation. Shaking her head again, she took her hand away from the wall but watched the carving as though she expected it to move.

"How was it wrong?" Jon asked. "We took nothing from him, not weapons or armor or coin… We buried him respectfully and marked his grave."

"But what if whoever lives down 'ere's not in th'abit o' buryin' their dead? What if we insulted 'em some'ow?" she asked.

"Insulted who, Ygritte?" he asked, unable to keep his voice from bearing a foreboding tone. "Who do you think is down here with us?"

"You said it yourself," she whispered. "It might not be jus' a story, Jon Snow. They might be 'ere. Th'gods only know what's become of 'em 'r what they want, but they could be down 'ere with us!" She grabbed hold of the fur of his sleeve and gripped it tightly.

"Who?" Jon repeated.

"Gendel's children," she whispered.

He wanted to tell her she was out of her mind, that such a thing was not possible. As much as he could entertain the notion that the story could be real – or even that it was – his rational mind wondered how people could live within these caves in practice. Although, there is something down here that's edible, for where else did that meat come from? There is plenty of water… It's cold, but it's warmer within the caves than it is above ground… is it so far outside the realm of what could be to imagine people living down here? If we reached this location, others could as well. That dead man… perhaps his final condition was a bit contrived, but he did exist at one point and made it through these caves… to a point at least.

"There could be people living in these caves, yes. As to whether they are Gendel's children, Ygritte…" He sighed. "It's far more likely that people just like us sought refuge from the cold or perhaps even from hostile tribes out in the open and they decided to stay here."

"They took 'im right after," Ygritte said. "We buried that man… and then Tor was gone."

"We don't know that anyone took Tor," Jon said.

"I'd stake me own life on that bein' some sort o' test, Jon Snow," Ygritte said firmly. "They tested us… an' we failed. So they took our boy."

Her eyes welled up with fresh tears even though she tried to hold them back. She choked a little on her own emotion as she pressed her lips together and struggled to maintain her composure.

"Without any sound?" Jon asked with a slight smile, attempting to calm her down. "Ghost would have attacked any strange person who came near Tor. The fact that we didn't hear anything that would have made us turn around and look at them means that Ghost just wandered off with him."

"Why would 'e do that?" Ygritte asked.

"I don't know," Jon said, "but I do know that these marks are new and they're leading us somewhere. We've got to follow them."

"An' if it's a trap? What then? If they've murdered our wee one an' your wolf an' want t'skin us alive an' cook our bones int'stew, Jon Snow… what then?" she asked with dire seriousness.

Jon laughed at how far Ygritte's worry was taking her.

"Laugh all you want, but what then?!" she asked loudly.

"How badly do you want him back?" Jon asked, already knowing the answer for both of them. The smile left his face.

"I'd die for 'im," Ygritte said without hesitation. "I'd do anythin'… give anythin'. In a heartbeat."

"Then we press on," Jon said, "and we keep on until someone stops us. Come what may."

She nodded and took the torch from him, continuing the search. They followed the trail until their exhaustion caught up with them. Vowing to rest only for a short time, Jon kept watch while Ygritte slept for a couple hours, and then they switched. Before he woke Ygritte, he offered a prayer to the Old Gods, for whatever good it might do.

Gods, the oldest and truest of them all, the ones I was raised to respect, and the ones I broke an oath to before… perhaps I've no right to address you now, but I'll find no rest this night if I do not. I beg you – prostrate myself before you – and humbly ask that you keep our son safe. If there is any value at all in sparing a life as innocent and new as my little Tor's, then I beseech you to take action now and protect him. Not for myself, but for his young soul, and for Ygritte… who meant no wrong in coming here. Please… I'll not ask for my own life, but only for his. If a life must be taken, let it be my own.

He was so tired by the time he laid down that he felt suddenly ill. The cave spun around in the torchlight until he was forced to close his eyes from the nauseating feel of it. Once he did, he fell asleep almost instantly.

But then, as quickly as sleep had taken him, he was suddenly not tired at all anymore. He was warm and invigorated and curious. Low to the ground and smelling it, Jon wondered where he was. The rocks smelled earthy and crisp to him. They were moist and gray in the darkness, but he could see well enough. He lifted his head when he heard a noise and saw Tor seated on a ledge some distance away. The child giggled and played with toys in his hands that Jon did not recognize. Despite his elation at seeing Tor, he could not make his body move toward him. Terrified to realize that he was not in control of himself, he merely watched helplessly as some force outside himself moved his body forward toward a different rock.

He stopped moving when he saw something as gray as the rock itself slide from its surface and approach him. Jon felt that he should be alarmed by its presence as it crept slowly closer to him on its arms and legs to come so close as to nearly touch his nose with its own. He was perfectly calm, however, as this slender, gray, wet creature gripped his head and parted the lids of one of his eyes.

Its head was hairless and its face was smooth, with only two small slits in a soft bump where its nose should be and large eyes that were paler than its skin. Jon might have said it was a man – its naked condition certainly revealed a form that suggested it was male – but the long and gangly nature of its body, the strange oval shape of its bald head, and the strangeness of its face were unlike anything Jon had ever seen… especially its wide, cloudy eyes. With these seemingly blind eyes it peered into his own, twitching slightly each time it blinked and flicking its head quickly here and there like a bird. It had two sets of eyelids, one vertical and one horizontal, one skin-like and one clear. The clear lids lay underneath the ones made of skin, and blinked more sluggishly, allowing Jon to see them briefly each time. With one eye close to his, the creature peered, and then turned its head and switched to the other, although neither eye appeared to focus very well on his.

It was seeing something in the eye it was scrutinizing, however, and Jon did not understand what it was. Deep inside, another life was calling to him to be more afraid, to take action, to force this creature away from him and run for Tor, but no amount of wishing himself back into coherence would do the deed. He simply remained calm and watchful.

When the creature finally released his head from its firm, icy grip, it began to crawl away from him. It plunged its hand and arm into a nearby standing pool of water, gouging the soft earth underneath. Lifting a black slime into its hand, the creature smeared it all over its arms. The act of spreading the viscous substance caused it to light up before Jon's eyes. Bright whites, grays, and yellows illuminated the black and gray rocks around them. Indeed everything now seemed to be lit in those muted shades. Jon began to wonder at the lack of color in his vision – are the rocks not many shades of brown? – even as the creature began to move once more.

He watched its lithe form deftly traverse the uneven ground. The substance on its arms lit the way and allowed Jon to see with beautiful clarity the path the creature tread. It came to stop beside a thin orifice in the rock face. With its pointer finger – thicker and at least two digits longer than any a human might possess – it pointed ceremoniously to the space between the rocks.

Jon felt his own body start to move again. With more skill than he felt he should have and climbing on all fours as the creature had done, he got as close to where it was as the ledge would allow and peered inside the orifice. It smelled of spent fires, rainwater, and musty bedding. He felt a gentle tap on his nose and looked quickly to his right where the creature reclined near him. It stared at him, pointing first at its eyes and then at Jon's. Slowly and with great interest, it began to smile. Its mouth contained multiple rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

Never did Jon feel any fear, despite the creature's impressive display of teeth. It never threatened him or Tor, although it moved toward the baby now. Perching on a ledge near the child, the sinewy being picked up from the ground what looked like a leather pouch of some sort. It dipped one of its long fingers into the pouch and withdrew a dollop of what appeared to Jon to be some sort of cheese or curdled milk. Uttering a few syllables of a language Jon did not understand and holding the white, pasty substance out to the child, Jon was astonished to see Tor open his mouth in obedient anticipation. The creature placed the paste in Tor's mouth, and the boy gummed it contently as he turned back to his toys. The creature smiled happily and reached into the pouch once more to retrieve more paste.

Jon had a mind to try and talk to the creature, or to go to Tor and take him into his arms, but he suddenly felt very cold and sick to his stomach. The world moved forward even as Jon was wrenched backward. He felt something deep within his core tugging at him, drawing him back to himself. Disoriented, he threw out his arms to stop himself from moving so fast.

He cried out when he woke, flailing his arms and looking around in terror. Jon looked all around the room for the creature – and for Tor – but all he saw was Ygritte. She was crouched before him, staring intently at him.

"What… did… you… see?" she asked in a breathless whisper, tears streaming down her face.

Jon locked eyes with her, bewildered by her question. Swallowing hard and shivering from the sweat that soaked his clothing, he breathed in quick but deep gasps. "It… it was a fever dream," he forced out.

"'Twas no fever that did that…" Ygritte whispered. "Your eyes were white. White as snow. White as Orell's whenever 'e took to th'sky on th'wings of 'is eagle. You're a warg, Jon Snow."

"No, I'm not," Jon threw back in fear, even as he shivered again. He barely understood what a warg was or how exactly they accomplished what they did. What he did understand was that nothing he just saw or participated in had been under his control at all. He did not sit down cross legged and voluntarily give himself over to this strange power as he had seen Orell do several times. As he stared at Ygritte's wide and hopeful eyes, he could not help but wonder despite his fear. Was that why I was so low to the ground and how I could climb so well? Maybe that's why the world looked and smelled different. It wasn't my body… it was Ghost's!

"Aye, you are," Ygritte said with the utmost respect for it. "Which means your dire wolf's alive somewhere in these caves. Where's 'e now? Think hard."

"I don't know," Jon whispered.

"What did you see?" she repeated.

"Tor…" Jon said, "with one of Gendel's children."

Fragment VIII – To a Crawl (Ygritte)

Her son was not dead. That was the one detail in all that Jon related to her that Ygritte had chosen to focus on. She could face any hardship so long as she knew that much. He's not dead, an' 'e's not starvin'. Now all we've got to do's find 'im. Already she felt her strength returning to her. Something as simple as knowing Tor still lived was all she needed to persevere. She and Jon hiked through most of the day, still following the arrows carved deep into the stone walls every twenty or thirty feet.

Ygritte did not know what to make of Jon's description of the male creature that seemed to be taking care of Tor and Ghost. Rather than dwell on it too much, Ygritte tried to put it out of her mind. Imagining Tor with such a creature had frightened her to no end. But as the hours dragged on, Ygritte began to wonder if such creatures as he described really live in these caves and keep all to themselves without the rest of mankind knowing about it. And, if they could, was there any way they could be the fabled Gendel's children of legend? Do Gendel's children live 'idden down in th'dark caves where no one can find 'em 'less they want t'be found? Might be they've been watchin' us for some time – for centuries evens – wit' their white eyes hid down far inside th'darkness…

They were down to their last two torches and had completely exhausted their food supply. The food was far less of a problem, for unseen hands left meat, nuts, and roots for them near pools of water, around corners, and laid out on ledges. Without light, however, their means of following the trail left for them would be all but gone.

They could move well and quickly enough through the cold, dark caves until the one they were currently in seemed to end abruptly. They had come upon a pond surrounded by rock on all sides except from the direction they had entered. Ygritte would have been frustrated but for the fact that the cave had no ceiling. It was open as far up as they could see. That's where we've got t'go…

Lifting the torch in her hand, all Ygritte could see were almost sheer walls of rock. Closer to the ground, there were narrow ledges where the rocks had been worn away by water running down their faces or had crumbled away and fallen near the pond. Other than that, there seemed to be no way out of the cave but straight up.

"Do they mean for us to climb it?" Jon asked, peering upwards as she had done.

"Seems like," Ygritte answered him.

"There isn't much to get a foothold anywhere, especially the higher up it goes…" he mused.

"This from a man who climbed a great wall of ice," Ygritte said with a haughty smile.

"It's not me I'm worried about," Jon said with a playful grin. "I didn't almost split the wall in two with my pick the way you did."

"Oh-ho!" Ygritte exclaimed with playful affront. "So that was all my fault, then? Couldn't 'ave been th'collective weight of us all, 'r the shoddy buildin' o' your ancestors that done it."

"Nope. Just you," he said, still smiling.

"I see," she said, nodding at his words. "Well, if you're scared an' want t'stay, I'm not waitin' for ya."

"I'll do better than you will with that torch in your hand," Jon said

"Then maybe you want to carry't for me an' 'elp me out," she said, passing it to him.

Securing their belongings and searching for the best possible path, they began their climb. They quickly realized that it was a lot more difficult than previously anticipated. The rocks were not only flat with little to grab on to, but also slick. Several times Ygritte felt her hands or feet slipping, and then she would hug the wall and stop moving for a moment until she was certain she would not fall. She dared not try to look down to Jon as he followed below her, lest she become disoriented and lose her footing.

They had only gotten about thirty feet up into the tall cave when Ygritte found a decent ledge to grip. Happy to see it, she tried to pull herself up.

"There's a flat ledge 'ere!" she called down to Jon, even venturing to look down at him for the first time since they began their climb. When she looked back up to the ledge, however, someone – or something – else was staring back at her. Its smooth gray face, white eyes, and hairless head was the stuff of nightmares. It cocked its head to the side with a swift and sickly looking twitch – as a bird does when tryin' t'better see the world – and Ygritte's heart nearly stopped. She screamed and was startled, slipping from the rock. Jon tried to catch her as she slid but it was no use. They plummeted to the ground along with their equipment. Jon fell onto his side near the pond. The torch fell from his hand and was doused in the water. Once the light left them, Ygritte could not even see her own hand before her face.

She tensed up at the waves of pain that rushed through her body, but as they began to fade, she knew she was not seriously hurt. Once her breath returned to her, she called to Jon and he answered, and so she knew the fall had not killed him either. Despair welled up inside her at their misfortune, however, as Jon's words made her heart sink.

"Ygritte, my… my pack fell into the water…" he said. "Our torches are useless."

"Oh, gods," Ygritte whispered. She sat up and felt her painful body for broken bones. Believing she had escaped that dire fate, she slowly moved to stand until something made her freeze with fear. She crouched low to the ground again.

"Jon…" she whispered breathlessly, "somethin' jus' breathed on me."

"Be still," he whispered back.

All around her she heard scraping and shuffling, a few scratchy whispers and the sounds of a few pebbles being dropped and kicked from the rocks above. Then, everything fell silent. The sounds of dripping water were all that surrounded them, but Ygritte could feel hot breath on the side of her neck and face. She shivered, closing her eyes even though she sat in total darkness.

"They're all around us," she whispered, unable to keep from trembling.

"Aye," Jon whispered back.

A few more shuffling noises, a grunt of some kind, and then silence again. Ygritte swallowed hard.

"I don't think they'll harm us. Just be absolutely still," Jon whispered.

"What do they want?" she asked.

"I don't know," Jon said. "Maybe they're just curious."

"Maybe?" Ygritte asked desperately.

"If they wanted to kill us, I think they could've done it by now," he said.

There was a second creature very close to her now. In addition to the one who sat on her right, another had come nearly nose to nose with her – 'cept that I saw they 'aven't got noses at all – breathing on her face. Its breath smelled of rotted plants.

"What d'we do now?" Ygritte asked.

"Let them look," Jon said. "They'll leave when their curiosity is sated."

"Are you sure o' that?" she asked.

"No," Jon said, "but attacking them wouldn't be any better, now would it? We can't see, and there's a lot more of them than there are of us. Besides, they haven't hurt us."

"We need to do somethin'!" Ygritte said.

"We are in their world, Ygritte," Jon said, "and at their mercy. We've tread where we don't belong. We must wait for them to let us pass."

"But…" she said, unable to calm herself.

"We've got to know our place," Jon said. "This is not our world."

Ygritte remembered the story Jon told her about his father. Sometimes we've got no control over th'natural world an' what it does to us. Sometimes we do more 'arm than good when we think ourselves above't. I've seen what becomes o' them that flaunt their arrogance in th'faces o' th'gods. There're no gods 'ere, only Nature. Only these… things… that are closer to th'earth than Jon 'r I'll ever be. He's right. We're to move through their world by their leave 'r not at all. The Free Folk never bow… 'cept per'aps to Nature 'erself. And them that're closer to Nature than me, well… I'd be a fool t'say I know better'n any of 'em.

She remained still except for her eyes. She opened them now, not able to see anything but feeling the breath on her face and neck all the same. Truth's in th'eyes. I'll let 'em see mine. Then they'll see I mean 'em no 'arm.

Shortly after she ventured to open her eyes, she felt something tug at her right hand. Terrified, she tried to be still as something pulled off her glove and poked and prodded her hand. Cold, thick fingers, she felt. They were leathery and rough but gentle. They pulled her, these fingers, drawing her to the right.

Reluctant to let these strange creatures lead her away from Jon, she vowed that she would only let them take her so far. What she would do after that was something she did not want to have to consider. How do I fight people I can't see? The creature did not lead hear away, though. It only tugged at her arm to get her to move a few feet to her right and then it plunged her hand into the pond and down into the mud.

"Jon, one's touchin' me…!" she said.

"They're touching me, too," he said. "It's all right. Let them do it. They're helping us."

"Me 'and's so cold," Ygritte said, feeling around in the muck for something she did not know was even there. What does it want me t'grab?

Just then, a bright yellow, blue, and green light began to emanate from Jon's arm. Ygritte sat with wide eyes and a thumping heart as she saw Jon smear something on his arm. Wherever his hand went, light was left behind. It was both beautiful and frightening to Ygritte, but what frightened her even more was the faces she saw lurking around him.

"Take some of the slime and smear on something. Anything. The spreading of it makes it glow," Jon said.

"Magic," Ygritte whispered, terrified of it." It's black magic, Jon Snow! Don't touch it!"

"It's not black, heh," Jon said. "It's blue and green… It's beautiful."

"Don't play wit' what you don't understand, Jon Snow," Ygritte said.

"It's got to do with whatever this slime is. It isn't magic Ygritte," he said. "Just do it. We need the light."

She took a fistful of the mud her hand was submerged in and pulled it up and out of the pond. Hating to make her clothes wet but needing to see her surroundings, Ygritte tentatively began to rub some of the slime on her arm. The colors were vibrant, coming out in little bursts of light that soaked into the fur of her coat. She shivered from the cold feel of it, however.

The creature in front of her was gone, but the one to her right still sat beside her. Ygritte slowly turned to look at it. It was so thin she could see most of its bones, and yet the rest of it was thin as well and so she wondered if that was not how it was supposed to look. Her mouth hung open and her wide eyes barely blinked as she stared at this seemingly female creature that crawled a small distance away from her. It paused for a moment, the slits in the center of its face expanding and contracting as it appeared to smell her. Its large, white, clouded eyes blinked exaggeratedly and a second pair of lids underneath the first blinked more slowly in a vertical manner. Curious but also wary of her, the creature moved even farther away, turning back to her only once more before slinking away into the darkness.

All around her and Jon, Ygritte heard others climb and crawl away from them. Shadows moved in the dim light until they all were gone, the echoes of their movements the only indication that they had ever been there. She sat motionless for a short time after, unconvinced that it was acceptable to the creatures that she move just yet. When she saw Jon smile at her, she ventured to speak.

"How'd you know 'ow t'make th'light?" she asked.

"I saw one of them do it," Jon said. "Or rather, Ghost did. I recognize this place, now. This was where they were. Ghost and Tor, I mean. Tor was sitting on that ledge right there."

He pointed to it, but it was empty. Rising to his feet, he moved closer to the ledge and turned to face away from her.

"I was standing here, and…" He looked up at something Ygritte could not see.

"An' what?" she asked, rising to join him, still mesmerized by the glow that surrounded her arm.

"And he pointed to that crevasse there," Jon said. "The one who fed Tor. He made me look at it and then he pointed to it and smiled."

"Maybe tha's a better way through than climbin' straight up?" she wondered.

"For us," Jon said. "They climb well. I've seen it. They probably don't need as much help as we do."

"Let's go, then," Ygritte said.

"We'll take some of the mud with us. I'll fill a water skin with it, so that we'll be able to see once we're inside the crevasse," Jon said.

Ygritte climbed the rocks to reach the narrow orifice and peered inside. All she saw was darkness past where the light extended. She had no choice but to trust in these creatures – in Gendel's children – to lead her to her son.

Fragment IX – Light and Snow (Jon)

The trail was a difficult one. There was never any room to stand or even crouch. Forced to climb and crawl on their bellies through very narrow tunnels, Jon fought through several waves of panic when at times it felt as if the rock walls were closing in on him, ready to crush every bone in his body. Fortunately, Ygritte's moments of panic never coincided with his own, and thus each of them managed to talk the other through the harrowing ordeal. Cold and stiff, they took their time making their way through the crevasse which steadily began to pitch more vertically. One they were climbing almost straight up, it was easy enough not to fall, for they could press their backs and anchor their feet against the narrow rock walls. Their bouts of panic became less frequent as they acclimated to the tight space of the crevasse.

Ygritte's spear was easily carried on her back, but her bow scraped long the inside of the tunnel. Jon knew it bothered her, for every now and then she grunted and tried to look at it to see if it had been damaged. Jon smiled sometimes when he saw her do this. Even if your bow is ruined, you'll make another. Nothing will keep you from having a bow in your hand, love.

After a couple hours of such climbing, they were exhausted. Frequent pauses did nothing to replenish their strength. Out of food and with no other choice, they continued onward, stopping every so often to smear more mud on themselves and shed light on their movements once again. During one such time, something occurred to Jon. Looking up at Ygritte, for she had gone into the tunnel first, he called to her as he rubbed the mud on his hands and arms.

"There is no way we could have made this climb with Tor," he said.

He saw Ygritte look down at him as she moved her legs aside to see his face.

"There's not enough room to carry him on our backs and we need our arms to climb. Furthermore, there isn't any way we could have managed with Ghost either," he said.

"Aye," Ygritte said. "I reckon not."

"Maybe they knew that," Jon said.

"Hmm?" Ygritte asked, scrunching her nose at the idea. "Why would they care?"

"Why have they cared?" Jon asked. "They're keeping our son alive and leading Ghost somewhere. They helped us find this tunnel. They taught us how to use the mud for light."

"What for?" Ygritte asked.

"I've been thinking…" Jon said as he strained to hand the waterskin of mud to Ygritte. She grunted as she carefully lowered herself to take it. "Maybe you were right and the arrangement of that dead man was a test… we didn't fail it."

"Then why'd they take our wee one from us?" she asked.

"Because we might have gotten him or ourselves killed had we continued on as we were," Jon said. "If we had fallen with Tor on either of our backs down there by the pond…"

Ygritte's eyes widened a little and she looked away.

"They know these caves better than us. They've probably gone over every bit of each of them hundreds of times. Probably they anticipated that we'd make mistakes like that… but thought we were worth correcting instead of just watching us die. They can carry Tor more easily than we can, and they can find ways to climb that are suitable for Ghost if not for ourselves. Maybe that's why they split us up."

"There's a great wide world o' might-be's inside your 'ead, Jon Snow," Ygritte said affectionately as she smiled weakly.

"Then one more won't hurt," he said, grinning. "Maybe our dead friend that we buried on our way in here… failed one of their tests."

"You don't know that," she said. "Now you're just s'posin' an' craftin' tales."

"There's no one else here but us and them… and that one dead man," he said. "Would your people leave one of their own behind?"

"Aye," Ygritte said definitively. "Espec'ally if we couldn't carry 'im none."

"Without burning him?" Jon asked.

"Oh, no… No, we'd 'ave burned 'im first," she said. "Could 'ave dragged 'im out an' then done it, I s'pose."

"The dead walk this far north. We've seen it. He'd been dead a long time to be nothing but bones and a bit of hair and skin. Why hasn't he gotten up on his own and walked out of these caves on his own two feet by now?" Jon asked.

"Maybe the White Walkers and the Others don't tread this far down," Ygritte said.

"We're moving north," Jon countered. "And… does one need them present for the dead to rise? Because I've seen the dead get up all on their own," Jon insisted.

Ygritte swallowed hard.

"And in these hard times – times which I'm sure existed well back into whatever year that man lived – who would leave a man with multiple weapons, all his armor, and that much wealth behind, Ygritte?" Jon asked.

"I don't know," she whispered, sounding suddenly frightened.

"How many of your people would have attacked those creatures on sight?" Jon asked.

"I can't think o' one who wouldn't 'ave," she said.

"Right. I don't know of anyone who would not have immediately threatened them either. Except for maybe my brother Bran who cannot walk, let alone wield a sword…or my sister Sansa, who knows nothing of combat…" Jon said with a slight nostalgic smile, but then it ran from his face, "or my father, were he alive now."

Ygritte looked at him again when he mentioned Lord Stark. The gentle furrow in her brow and her pensive expression told him that she understood his meaning. She nodded gently. "'Cause 'e'd 'ave nothin' to fear from 'em. He'd know 'is place."

"Aye," Jon said.

She nodded again and looked upward with renewed vigor. "Let's trust 'em, then," she said, her voice stronger now, "an' keep followin' th'trail."

"Aye," Jon repeated, readying himself to follow Ygritte.

Despite the fervor of their purpose, the mood had grown somber. Jon was sure that Ygritte was pondering his words. What he was not sure of, was how many of them, if any, were actually true. Father, if you were here with us now, you'd know what to do. Far better than either of us. You may ultimately have fallen victim to a vicious and disingenuous boy king drunk on his ill-gotten power, but here in the North where men live by honor and there are unspoken codes that all good men follow… here, Father… you would have known what to do. These creatures share your honor. I can feel it. With each step I take I grow a little calmer, for I know I've nothing to fear from Gendel's children."

He paused in his climb for a moment and watched Ygritte. There was a deep furrow in her brow and with each movement of her hand, each placement of one of her feet, the depth of her concern only seemed to increase. She needs something to take her mind off of Tor for a moment…

"I'm very glad you decided to go first, Ygritte," Jon asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Ygritte laughed, and the sound of it was a welcome one for him. "Wha's wrong, then? You scared?"

"No," Jon said. "It's only that… this way, I get to stare at your arse the entire time."

"Hmm…" she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Jus' remember I can kick you in th'face from up 'ere."

"It'd still be worth it. I'm willing to take that chance," Jon said, chuckling.

"What a brave man you are t'stand up to a whole lot o' broken teeth," Ygritte said playfully.

"I don't need teeth to love you," he said, feeling the hot sting of tears come to his eyes.

Ygritte had noticed the tremble in his voice. With one last smile that mirrored his emotion, she began to climb again.

The carved arrow markers continued to appear even inside the narrow tunnel, pushing them ever onward. Jon knew it was uplifting for Ygritte every time she found one. He listened as she called out every one she noticed, even though there had been no sign in hours that the tunnel had any end to it. Once, Ygritte even mentioned that she thought it may have been no accident that one of the creatures startled her shortly after they began their climb up the cavern walls. That path was unsafe, too difficult for Jon and Ygritte to manage. A fall from a great height might have killed them, so why not make them fall sooner and teach them the error of their decision?

"That's why they frightened me," she said, "to make us fall from a safe height before we fell from a worse one."

Of course, there was no way of knowing if Ygritte was right, but Jon felt there may be some truth to it. There, in the dark and without their son, all they had was their thoughts. Speculating on the kindness and virtue of the native creatures in the caves comforted them, gave them hope. That and conversation took their minds off the arduous nature of their climb.

When Ygritte commented on the presence of another arrow and then abruptly stopped climbing, Jon waited for her to begin again. The light on his arms was fading, and so he stopped to apply more mud as he waited for Ygritte to move. When she did not, his brow furrowed with concern.

"What's wrong?" he said to her.

"You don't see that?" she asked.

"All I see is you," he said.

She pressed herself against one side of the tunnel to allow Jon a clear path to whatever it was she saw. At first he noticed nothing, but then his eyes focused on a tiny point of light a long distance away. "What's that?" he asked.

"A way out?" she asked. "Do you s'pose it could be?"

"I don't know what other light would be down here…" Jon said. "It doesn't look like this." He lifted his glowing left arm.

"Come on!" she said, but whether she was excited or nervous, he could not say.

They picked up their pace now. With every hoist and every new footing, the light got a bit brighter, a bit broader. It was a soft white glow after half an hour's climb, and the air was significantly colder.

"I smell snow!" Ygritte cried out excitedly.

"Now, that's a bit unfair, Ygritte," Jon said playfully. "I'm covered in mud and I haven't had a bath in days."

She laughed out loud. "Tha's not what I meant an' you damn well know't," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "Don't you smell't too?"

"The air has changed a bit, yes," he said.

"Jon…" she said, "what'll we do if we get to th'top an' there's a way out… but Tor's not there?"

He was long in answering her, for he did not even want to think about the possibility that he was wrong about the creatures living in the caves. It had been easily to believe his own tales of Gendel's children, in their wisdom and deep connection to Nature as Ygritte had pointed out and he had sensed, and in the idea that they had gone through trials in these caves and managed to gain their trust and respect. There was nothing and no one else there to challenge such ideas, and neither one of them wanted to give into the grief of losing their son, and so their wildest imagination had become fact. Ygritte wanted to believe every bit as much as Jon did, for if they did not, they would have to admit that all the events they had experienced since they entered the web of underground caves had been far more random than they wished. They would be forced to admit… that the cave dwellers may have no intention of giving Tor back at all.

She looked down to him when he did not answer. The desperation in her eyes forced the words out of him, even as they caused a twinge of pain in his heart.

"Then we gather as much food in the forest or plains or hills that we find ourselves in as quickly as we can… and we come back here," he said firmly. "We come back and we search until we find our son and Ghost."

Ygritte nodded, taking comfort in his words. She looked upward. "I can see th'end from 'ere. You ready?" she asked.

"Aye," Jon replied.

Fragment X – The Gift (Ygritte)

The tunnel opened onto a bed of jagged, black rocks with cold, icy surfaces. Ygritte rested by the mouth of the tunnel while Jon slowly made his way out. Exhausted down to her bones, she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling them burn. Every muscle in her body throbbed and her back was stiff and sore.

Jon extended his hand to her and helped her to her feet while he surveyed where they were. They were in a cave not unlike the many others they had seen in past days, except that this one was much colder, and tiny points of light could be seen where sunlight poured through fissures in the rock above their heads.

"We're close," Ygritte said. "To see th'light o' day, we've got to be."

"Let's see where this leads," Jon said, starting to climb over the rocks.

She took his hand until they found themselves on more even ground. Her bow appeared to have survived the climb, albeit a bit more scratched up than she remembered it. She brushed off the bits of dried mud that clung to the fur of her coat. It had lost its glow long ago. Ygritte was sorry to lose the beautiful light. It was magic, I know't was. I've never seen it's like before. Might be I'll never see such a wonder ever again. When no more of the dried mud fell from her coat, she stopped brushing and beating it. Standing still for a moment and feeling her heart pounding in her chest, Ygritte dared to do what she barely had the courage for.

"Tor!" she called as loudly as she could manage. Jon turned to her when she said it and smiled. Her eyes brimmed with tears to see that smile. It was sad, but also filled with love for her.

"Ghost!" Jon called.

Their voices did not echo as they had a few hours ago, and so they were optimistic that there was an opening in the cave large enough for them to escape through it. Jon inspected the rock above them every now and then, but concluded that it was too thick and therefore dangerous to try to break through. Ygritte continued to call out to their son while Jon attempted to appeal to Ghost. Neither one of them had any way of knowing if their voices were heard.

Trembling with emotion, Ygritte fell into silent thought and prayer. He's got t'be 'ere. Me 'eart'll break in two if 'e's not. You showed us th'way. You protected our wee one. Now, please… please… give 'im back. Only Jon's arm thrown suddenly across her waist shocked her out of her introspection. She stopped walking and looked down at it, realizing his other hand was on Longclaw's hilt. They relaxed quickly, however, to see Ghost stepping lightly over the rocks toward them.

"Seven hells!" Jon exclaimed in utter disbelief.

"Tor!" Ygritte cried out desperately. Ghost turned and ran with Ygritte close behind him.

"Watch your footing!" Jon called to her.

Focused on keeping up with Ghost, she slipped on the icy rocks, but recovered quickly. Ygritte did not care if she fell. Nothing would stop her from following Ghost, least of all some ice. She had been raised on ice and snow and had scarcely known a day of her life without it. The smell of the air, the biting cold, even the color of the light shining down through the rocks… Ygritte knew the Real North as well as herself, and right now she knew she was there. She was home, Ghost had returned, and at that moment only one thing could make everything right again and erase all the sadness, worry, grief, and terror of the past several days.

She stopped when she saw him, her feet sliding a little on the icy ground. Rounding a corner, Ygritte had come upon the open mouth of the cave, an ancient pine and oak forest visible just past it. Icicles hung from the rocks above and she smelled the telltale odor of a spent fire. She saw the remnants of it there, the black char and smoldering embers, not far from her. Sitting just passed it on a small bed of woven cloth was Tor. The happy baby hugged the wolf doll she had made him in one arm and played with something else in his right as Ghost moved to sit beside him.

"There!" Jon yelled, but Ygritte was already rushing to Tor. She fell to her knees and scooped him up, unable to stop her tears. Thinking this was some sort of game, Tor giggled loudly.

"Oh, my sweet wee one!" Ygritte cried, kissing his forehead. "Are you all right?"

She looked him over and found that he was not hurt. Jon knelt beside them, taking hold of Tor's hand and moving to hold Ygritte. The baby dropped the wolf doll to hold his father's fingers instead.

"Thank the gods," Jon said, barely able to breathe for all his emotion.

"Aye," Ygritte whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Mama…" Tor said, tugging on her coat with one of his tiny fists as he usually did when he was hungry.

Ygritte could not tell anymore whether she was laughing or crying. All she knew was that emotion that strong had not flooded her senses since she first held Tor in her arms, just hours after he was born. Not even the pain of Jon Snow's betrayal – now a distant memory – had shaken her down to her core as had her son's disappearance. She parted her coat and lifted her hide shirt to nurse Tor, holding him close and touching her lips to his curly head of hair. Something restless inside her was calmed the moment he was at her breast. She stroked his curls and tickled his face, watching his fleeting little smiles.

Jon gently drew back her long hair and sat with her while Tor nursed. He rested his chin on her shoulder as he held her from behind and let his head fall against her own. There were tears in his eyes as well and he had released a shuddering but cathartic sigh that made her shiver. "We made it," he whispered. "All of us."

She nodded and continued to caress Tor's dark curls. Usually whenever Tor nursed she was distracted, always talking to Jon or trying her best to do other things with the small boy in her arms. Just then, Ygritte wanted nothing more than to watch her son's innocent face as he watched hers. There was not a strict bone in her body at that moment as she gave into the urge to coddle her son. Tor 'as time yet to become a man. If 'e wants to find comfort in 'is mum's eyes an' smile an' embrace, then let 'im. Right now, 'tis me who's takin' comfort in 'is eyes. Eyes I thought I might never see again…

"What's this?" Jon asked, taking the object Tor had been playing with. He shook it a little, and it made a rattling noise.

"Bone?" Ygritte asked.

The toy had the color and texture of bone, even though its surface was covered in runes. Carved such as it was, it was impossible to tell what animal it might have come from.

"Aye, I think so," Jon whispered. "Do you know what these mean?" he asked as he moved his fingers over the markings.

She shook her head. "No, I've never seen that sort o' writin' before. Most o' my kin didn't write none anyhow."

Tor reached for the toy as well as he could while he nursed, and Jon put it back in his hand. The baby shook it vigorously and then smiled. It had been made from a single bone, with a thin handle and a round end that had been hollowed out to contain loose pieces that rattled inside the carved cage. Each piece had been smoothed into an oval shape, while the holes of the cage were square. Because the loose pieces of bone were much larger than the holes of the rattle and would never fall out, Ygritte could tell that they, too, had been part of the same original piece of bone. Some expert carvin' it took t'make such a thing, she mused. 'Tis a piece of art, truly. Might be they make these playthings for their own wee ones an' thought Tor would like it jus' th'same. Ygritte smiled at the thought.

"D'ya think they give 'im that?" she asked Jon.

He nodded slightly, staring at the rattle. Soon, however, he rose to his feet and wandered toward the edge of the cave. Ygritte started to hum for Tor, cradling him in her arms while Ghost came to lie vigilantly beside them both. She smiled for him, and he smiled back. Her son's smile was the most wonderful sight in the world to her. She thought nothing would move her gaze from Tor's eyes, but when Jon began to talk, she realized he had left the cave and looked up to see what he was doing.

Jon was some distance away, out in the forest, kneeling before an old tree with bright red leaves. Making obeisance before this odd yet beautiful tree, he bowed his head and began a prayer. Ygritte could vaguely see from where she sat that the tree had a face – a red one, carved or painted perhaps – of solemn vigilance.

"Old Ones I have trusted… Old Ones I have learned from… Old Ones I have broken my vows to and emerged from my dishonor, reborn… thank you for my son's life. Thank you for this chance you have given me and my family. I… understand now… what I should have learned years ago… what my father sought to teach me."

Ygritte was not certain that any gods – old or otherwise – were responsible for returning Tor to them, but she did know who had helped them here in this earthly world. She turned back to the cave, seeing now from this angle that there were other passages besides the small crevasse they had climbed through. Glancing at the spent fire beside them, she felt its heat and noticed the glowing embers inside the black char of spent bit of wood. 'Tis a fresh fire, newly snuffed. They were right 'ere. Jus' a moment ago. Watchin' 'im. Protectin' 'im. She squeezed Tor a little in her arms as her eyes lifted to the darkness of the cave once more.

"Thank you," she called into that darkness. "I know you can't 'ear me, or if you can, you prob'ly can't understand, but for whatever it means t'you an' whatever good it does to say't… thank you. From th'bottom of me 'eart. I'll never forget this. Not ever."

Just then, she saw the vague outline of a face appear, deep inside the cave, barely lit by the thin rays of light that found their way through rocks above. Ygritte's heart began to beat faster and her eyes filled with tears. There was such gratitude in her heart that she feared it might burst. It beat wildly out of control as she stared at that face, no longer afraid of what lurked in the ancient dark of the caves.

Right there… the whole time. They stayed wit' 'im. Watched over 'im properly to make sure nothin' 'appened while 'e waited for us to find 'im. Knowing that Gendel's children could not understand her, she tried a far more universal language. She smiled the most sincere smile she could muster and nodded to the shadowy face.

The silhouette nodded once – quickly, like a bird… that's 'ow they are – and receded into the darkness.

Fragment XI – Our Place (Jon)

They had not moved far from the cave in a fortnight. Feeling almost as if they had forged some sort of subtle alliance with the ones they had named Gendel's children, it felt right – and perhaps even seemed safer – to remain close by the cave's entrance. The presence of the heartwood tree was something Jon wished to remain close to as well, and Ygritte was simply happy to be back in the North. They were not sure if the Children, as they called them now, ever ventured into the forest or whether they remained entirely inside their caves, but Jon and Ygritte both had vowed to help any of them who might ever need it. It was perhaps a vow they would never be called upon to uphold, but it was important to them, nonetheless.

Ygritte was more content to camp permanently north of the Wall than she ever was south of it. Locating a small abandoned cabin only a short distance from the mouth of the cave where they found Tor, they repaired it well enough to make it a suitable shelter. Patching the ceiling with hides and building a new door helped considerably, even though Ygritte insisted upon building a large tent beside it as well. Near to it they had placed a few large logs, halved to make them easier to sit upon, and a pit for their fires.

Jon took down the inner walls of the cabin and used the wood to help repair the outside of it. Ygritte did not like the feel of enclosed rooms and thus they all lived in one large room, with one large bed of furs for Tor and Ghost and another for Jon and Ygritte. It was there that they stayed on excessively windy or snowy nights, but on clear ones the family camped outside under the stars. They were happy, and once again – for as long as Ygritte allows it, I suppose –Jon felt as if they were starting to settle down. That made him slightly nervous.

Winter was coming. He could sense it in the frigid chill of the air, the silence of the snow, and the cracking sounds of branches snapping and splintering under the heavy weight of thick ice. More than anything, Jon feared the sight of gray, sickly skin, white hair, and glowing blue eyes. He was watchful always, an ever-present fear lingering in the back of his mind. But his worst fears were precisely what he saw one day as he came from inside the house to bring meat to the cooking fire.

Torch in one hand, he dropped the meat in the other out of pure shock and stood still as stone. He drew Longclaw but hesitated to attack. Ygritte remained inside the cabin, and Jon had only left Tor for a moment, playing just outside the circle of logs. Ghost was there beside him, growling at a tall and thick-boned White Walker standing not twenty feet from them.

Jon's heart stopped for a moment to see the creature's long white hair, gray and wrinkled skin, icy blue stare, his glistening sword, and his cold, emotionless expression. He looked down at Tor, and so did the White Walker. The baby giggled as he pet one of Ghost's hind paws. The dire wolf, however, was focused on the stranger before him. Ghost's upper lip curled as he snarled, his back arching threateningly.

"Wait, Ghost," Jon whispered. "Please don't hurt my son," he said to the White Walker, remembering what had become of Craster's own infant sons.

The wolf was calmed a bit, but fixed his gaze on the White Walker. Jon heard Ygritte burst out of the cabin door behind him and draw back her bowstring.

"You can't 'ave 'im!" she yelled.

"Ygritte, lower your bow!" Jon said.

"Get back, fiend!" she shouted at the White Walker. "Or I'll put an arrow through your rotted skull!" Her voice broke with fear.

The White Walker narrowed his eyes at her, growled, and slowly raised his sword.

"Ygritte!" Jon yelled. "Hold!"

"Are you touched in th'head?" she asked frantically. "D'you want to lose 'im again?!"

"Just please wait," he whispered.

Tor lifted his rattle, his favorite toy now ever since the Children had gifted it to him. The sound it made caught the attention of the White Walker. He stepped even closer to Tor and Jon saw its eyes widen as the baby lifted the rattle up to him. Is he surprised at it? Why? Ghost began to growl again and bared his teeth, but Jon carefully sheathed Longclaw. He lowered his right hand with his palm flat and his fingers spread wide, telling Ghost to stay where he was.

"Jon…" Ygritte said. He could hear how terrified she was.

I hope this works. He lowered his torch slowly and plunged it into the snow, snuffing it.

"What're you doin'?!" Ygritte said, trying to keep her voice at a whisper.

The White Walker's eyes looked up from Tor when she spoke and narrowed with insult yet again. Moving as slowly as he could, Jon knelt in the snow. He glanced at Ygritte and saw her staring at him in disbelief with wide, frightened eyes. With his gloved hands open, palms toward the White Walker, he showed the creature that he was unarmed.

Tor shook his toy again and giggled. Wobbling up and onto his feet, he managed to stand while innocently offering the rattle to the White Walker with a bright smile. The icy gray figure peered down at the boy.

"It was a gift," Jon said, drawing that blue, glowing gaze back toward his own again.

"Aye," Ygritte said, kneeling beside Jon. He could see that she was shaking violently. Her trembling words were tentative and raspy. "Them that live in th'caves gave it to 'im."

"We know our place, Old One," Jon said, echoing his father's words.

He looked to Ygritte now, this silent and imposing figure. Jon saw her bow her head, and so he did the same. Even so, he kept his eyes on Tor, praying to the Old Gods that he had come to understand the truth of the White Walkers' anger and how to avoid it. He could not help but look up when he saw the White Walker cant his head to the side in contemplation of them. With a ceremonial and exaggerated motion, he sheathed his sword. His eyes lingered on them only for another short moment longer, and then he walked past them all, into the forest.

Ygritte ran to Tor and lifted him into her arms. Ghost ran past the cabin and stood at attention, watching the gray and white figure disappear into the trees and drifting snow whipped around by the howling wind. Tor giggled and shook his rattle. Jon rose to his feet and stared at the rattle, swallowing hard and wondering what the writing carved onto it had said to the White Walker. He met Ygritte's astonished gaze. They had no words for what had happened, and yet on some level they each understood the meaning of the bizarre encounter.

Winter was coming, and with it a trial that Jon and Ygritte had already overcome, a truth they had already learned, and a life that they had come to accept was mortal and uncertain. Soon, winter would come for everyone, even them. At least for now, these forces in the world that Jon barely understood, forces that had protected him, spared his wife and son, and guided his thoughts and actions more than once in his life had seen fit to let them all live. It was not Jon's place to know why, but rather, to simply be thankful for every moment. For it could all be taken away in the blink of an eye. This judgment that is coming for the World of Men will decide our ultimate fates as well. Come what may, my life will be lived for my love and my child, my final moments spent with them. Instead of running from winter and our destinies, cursing it, worrying about it, or praying that it won't, we need to just let it come. Maybe we will survive it, and maybe we won't. Regardless, winter will come, and our place is not to wonder why.

Ygritte smiled nervously as she came to Jon and passed Tor to him.

I love you, Jon mouthed to Ygritte. She returned his silent sentiment and touched her lips to his shoulder as she took hold of his arm. He could still feel her trembling.

"Dada," the baby whispered affectionately, watching his father, oblivious to how close he had just come to death. Jon drew his little face close to his and kissed his cheek.

Come what may…