The Old Witch of the North

Chapter One

The night was dark and held a bitter chill to it, her bones ached so deeply as she bore the brunt of it. Out in the distance, a wolf howled at the moon and it's pack answered back in great harmony. A family long separated that soon enough would be reunited once again, how very sweet a thought indeed. Though the sweetness of it did little to warm her against the cold.

Her footsteps made no noise as she walked, muffled by the carpet of leaves that covered the forest floor. Untold centuries unfold beneath her soles and they were wet and dark and damp with rot. She must remember to give her thanks to the gods that they had chosen to not have it rain tonight, she found herself growing terribly sick of rain as of late.

She pulled her ragged old cloak close to her as gust of cold air blow past her, she could almost here her bones shaking deep beneath her withered old skin. The Trickster played his games on her, on all of them, and she could do little but to endure it as best as she could. Her bundle slapped against her shoulder with each step she took and she took some little comfort in the knowledge that at the very least, soon enough she would have a full belly.

She came to the clearing where she had made her home, a few sticks and some animal hides did not make a castle but when it did rain or snow it kept her dry and that was all that she needed in truth. She assembled some sticks together and once her fire was going nicely, she undid her bindle and set to work on skinning the rabbits she had found, plump little buggers they were as well.

The furs she tied to her belt and the blood she bottled before she took hold of the small cooking pot she kept within her bindle, filled it with cold, clear water from the nearby stream and placed it atop the fire before she set to chopping the meat up. The rabbit meat was added to the pot, followed by onions and leeks and mushrooms and carrots she had been foraging for earlier.

She had half a black sausage left and a small block of yellow cheese, all of which she added to the stew. If she had sense she would have saved more of it for later, but she wished for the stew to be hearty. She took hold of a long wooden spoon and placed it into the cooking pot, slowing stirring it and letting out a small sigh at the smells coming from the pit.

The noise came quickly and it echoed all around her, how not? The wolfswood had a thousand ears and she could hear through most all of them, their intent was not dark in itself but it was driven by fear and by hunger. Thus, it could only end poorly. A weary sigh escaped her then and her eyes closed, death was on the winds, her hunger was spoiled and thus she readied herself for what was to come.

There were six of them, two men and four women. The largest was the leader, broad in the shoulder and tall. His head was shaven but his eyebrows and his beard were copper. He wore rings on each of his fingers and held an long axe in his hands, the man that followed behind him was shorted but was clearly his son. The nose was the same, the hair the same shade of red and he carried a similar axe.

A woman with dark hair and dark eyes and dressed in pelts, carrying a spear in her hands and a pair of knives at her hips. A blond women with blue eyes, a hatchet clung to like it was her lifeline to the world. A woman with red hair, more fire than copper with a large club banded with iron and her brown eyes were empty, dead but still walking.

And the last of them, shortest and youngest and more a girl than a woman. Her hair was black as a crow's cloak, her eyes were blue and cruel and her lips were as red as blood. She had a longbow in her arms and she smiled at the sight of her and in that moment, she knew that the young one was the cruellest of them all and would see her dead in a moment.

"Good evening to all of you." Her words were naught but politeness to them as she stood, clinging to the hope that perhaps this did not need to end poorly, though she already knew that it would. Her bones screamed protests at her movements but she ignored them as she started at the group of Free Folk who had slipped past Brandon's last defence, the smell of fear and the deepest of cold's clinging to them like a lady's favourite scent. "You all seem to have come a long way, you are welcome to share my fire and my stew."

"We won't be sharing anything Grandmother, we'll be talking." It was the words of the younger man then, but there was not hate in his words. Only fear disguised as bravery and boldness. "If you know what's good for you, you'll turn about and go right back into those woods and forget you ever saw any of us. Do you understand me?"

"We can't let her go." The one with the cruel eyes spoke, drawing an arrow from her quiver. "She must be from Winter's Town, she'll go and run right to Winterfell and then we'll have the Starks after us. Let's just kill her and be done with it." She had already knocked the arrow, it's head was cruel looking thing of black iron and she had to wonder who the cruel child had stolen it from.

The older man held up his hand and stared at her for a long moment, his voice was a low grumble when he finally did decide to speak. "Go now, but know that if you go to Winterfell and speak of this that I will make sure that you wished I had allowed Yalla to kill you. Leave us now."

"I am afraid I can not do that, you are hungry but so am I. I snared the rabbits, cut their throats, skinned them and cut up their meat. I put the pot to boil and added the meat to it, and the vegetables as well. The black sausage and the cheese was my last, the stew is mine. But I say again, you may share my fire and my stew. Will you break your meat with me, goodman?"

For a moment, she thought she might have saw a flash of hesitance on the man's face, but soon enough it turned to regret as he turned to the woman with the bow. "Clean shot to the heart, I don't want her suffering anymore than she has too." The girl looked disappointed but did raised her bow and drew back the string of it, and loosed the arrow.

It speed towards her, and old Aghna raised her hand but once and waved it at the same time as she whispered an old and forgotten word to most. The arrow burst into flames mid-flight, the ashes fell to the ground with singed iron arrow head amongst it. The wildings starred her, perhaps remembering all the stories their mothers had told them of witches and their powers they were said to have,

The younger man broke out of the stupor first and charged at her, murder in his eyes. Aghna sighed and spoke another word and when the man swung his hands down, he found that they were empty. He looked at her, his eyes wide and stumbled back away from her. Tripping over a root and staring at her like she was the worst monster in the world.

The woman with the spear and the woman with the hatchet both came at her together, fear making them move fast and without a singe thought of caution. Aghna raised her hands and with a groan, sent them both flying backwards. The woman with the spear landed on the forest floor, a soft groan slipping out of her lips as she lay there.

The woman with the hatchet was not so lucky, her body hit the large old oak tree at the edge of the clearing hard, a sickening crack filled the air and she slid to the base of the trunk. Her head bowed and entire unmoving.

Two arrows were loosed at her in quick succession and Aghna was quick to meet both of them, with a wave of her hand she changed the direction of them both so that both arrows would fly past her, flying into the darkness to be lost amongst the trees.

The older man came forward then, and his size did not give a hint to his speed. Every swing he made was so fast that Aghna had no chance to cast a spell, to summon the old powers to come to her aid. She fell to the ground to avoid a cut from the axe that would have taken off her head if she had stood to retrieve it and took advantage of the gap the man granted her as he raised his axe to finish her.

Aghna throw out her hand and shouted out the first spell that came into her mind, a flash of light filling the clearing. The man was sent flying away from her, a hole had been burnt through wolf pelt, old rusted chainmail, leather, skin, flesh and organs as he flew through the air and collided with the ground. Unmoving.

When she finally got to her feet, the hatchet was thrown to her and with a wave of her hand, the hatchet went flying back through mid air. It buried it's way into the neck of the woman who had thrown it, but there was no fear in her eyes. Only peace as she fell to the ground and bent her head, her life blood flowing out of her to the ground.

All that was left, was the one with the bow. The younger man was too terrified to move and the woman with the spear was gone, she had taken off into the woods and would not look back. The bow woman loosed arrow after arrow at her and Aghna made sure that they did not come with in an inch of her, flicking them away without a care in the world.

It only seemed to make the young girl angry, she threw away her bow and drew a dagger and lunged at her. Aghna simply sighed and held out her hand, the girl stopped in her tracks, the hand that held the knife frozen. The girl's eyes widen, terrified at what was happening to her.

Aghna leaned forward and whispered a word into her ear and then moved away from her, tears flooded the young woman's eyes and her hand shook so very had as she tried to fight the magic off of her. But alas, she could not. She brought her steel up to her throat and drew it across her neck, leaving naught but a long red line behind.

The girl stood there for a moment as the blood flowed and then collapsed to the ground, silenced filled the clearing in what seemed like an eternity and Aghna could only sigh and bring her hands up to her face.

It was not the whimpering of the man on the ground that made her show her face, but the sound of hooves falling against the ground. A man, highborn with dark brown hair and grey eyes rode into the clearing, a small child with the same hair and the same eyes, a girl, sat at her father's back. Five men on horseback surrounded them, all armed with spears and all spears were soon pointed at her.

Aghna raised her hands above her head to show she meant no harm, and tried her best not to sigh.

All she had wanted was some rabbit stew.

End of Chapter One

Wanted to try something a little bit different, for me at the very least. I hope this chapter intrigued you all for what is to come and you find Aghna to be an interesting character going forward, more will be revealed about her in the later chapters but don't worry, like most of my stories there will be chapters from other people's POVs.

I am debating myself to either make the next chapter a Ned POV or to see it from Maester Luwin's point of view.

And yes, the kid is Arya. Why she's there will be explained later.

Tons of love.

DiscordantSymphony