Note from the author: I do not own these characters. They belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended. That aside, this is my first published piece. Please enjoy, and please R&R. Happy readings!
Jon's time with the King Beyond the Wall had taught him, more than anything, to be free. He had learned that a man must adapt himself to nature instead of claiming or conquering it. Through that, he learned how to be a better warrior, a better man.
He had convinced the King that it would be a path of conquering if he were to attack the Wall and beyond. Instead, Jon convinced the King to once again help the Knights in Black to defend the Wall and fight off the White Walkers.
He was to move ahead and explain, but he also wanted to find Lord Commander Jeor Mormont and Sam and his other friends.
He lifted his boot from the deep snow and wished he could be more like Ghost who padded silently along in front of him. The crunching noises his walk continued to make annoyed him. These noises prevented him from hearing very clearly.
He had been feeling uneasy for a day and a half now. It felt as if someone followed him, but each night before he slept beside Ghost, he looked yards and yards in each direction and found neither a person nor any sign of such. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling.
This night he'd chanced upon a rabbit and decided to take the risk of cooking it. He found the driest wood he could and lit a small flame beneath it. The flame was only big enough to skewer a small bit of the animal upon his knife to cook. He'd have some tonight and save the rest.
As he worked, he thought of Ygritte. Her red hair and pale face seemed the only thing that was beautiful in the world. He held out some hope that he would have the chance to be with her, in one way or another, before long. However, Ygritte did not seem as interested in him as he was in her. She may just be a wildling, but he could not get past the idea that she did not want him because he was a bastard.
Everyone he'd ever known frequently reminded him of his unworthiness. Sometimes, it seemed as if everyone was telling him that he had no right to even exist. He could not help feeling guilty for who he was.
What did he expect with Ygritte anyway? He had taken a vow and, in truth, that meant more to him than his lust for her. He still took those vows very seriously despite the King Beyond the Wall teaching him that the vows only imprisoned him. He supposed that he was too much like his father in the regard that honor meant more to him than most anything.
His brooding thoughts distracted him from the shadow that subtly blotted out the flickering firelight.
Ghost stood up and perked his ears forward. No growl escaped him, but he turned and nudged Jon into awareness. Jon glared hard into the darkness, trying with all his might to see what was out there.
A great black dire wolf stepped out of the shadows. The beast's yellow eyes seemed to pierce and stare deep into Jon's heart. It seemed as if the beast were measuring him up, questioning whether he were worthy of something.
Ghost squatted low and worked his way to the wolf before lifting his nose to tap the beast gently upon its lower jaw.
The black wolf wagged his tail in approval and turned his eyes back to Jon.
Jon cautiously approached and used his hand to do as Ghost did and tap the wolf on his lower jaw. Again, its tail wagged.
Abruptly, the wolf turned and trotted into the shadows a ways before giving a small yip like a call to follow.
"I cannot follow you, wolf," Jon said. The beast would likely adopt him into a pack, and that meant he would never find his friends nor return to the Wall. He must find them.
The black wolf yipped again and Ghost whimpered, pacing back and forth. Jon placed a soothing hand upon his wolf's side.
Then, once again the black wolf trotted into the light. This time, it kept throwing glances over its shoulder and yipping.
Jon thought that maybe the rest of the black wolf's pack was behind him somewhere and that that was whom the wolf was calling.
Then, from the shadows, there emerged a young woman, crawling cautiously forward. Her limbs and stomach were bare and only her private areas were covered with white rabbit's fur. Her hair was blacker than a raven's feathers and lacked the matted, stringy quality that Jon associated with wildlings. It curled and tumbled all the way down to her trim hips. When she looked up at Jon through thick, black, curling lashes he was alarmed to see ice blue eyes that seemed to blare out in shining contrast to her pale face.
It was the eyes that made Jon leap to his feet and pull out his sword. He had only seen eyes so blue in the face of a white walker.
The girl threw her hands up to shield herself from the threatening sword and the black wolf growled fiercely. Jon hesitated and the girl stood. "Are you real," Jon asked her. She cocked her head to the side the way a dog or wolf does when listening for a command. "Who are you," Jon asked, lowering his sword; she was clearly no white walker. The girl still did not answer, but she took a few steps closer to him. Then, before Jon had time to see what was happening, the girl ran right up to him and used her right hand to tap him under the chin. She then knelt before him and bowed her head, exposing her neck.
Jon was too shocked by her actions to do anything more than stare down at her for a moment. The girl let out a small whimper like an apology. "Do you know the common tongue? If you do then speak," Jon said. She peeked up at him when he spoke, and stood when he finished. She was far too close, Jon thought. He could smell the sweetness of her exposed skin.
"I know little the words," the girl spoke at last. She had a voice like music.
"Can you understand the words I'm saying?"
"Yes, understand much…say little."
"What's your name girl?"
The girl's chin came up just a little. "My name is a story; a long howl," she said.
"Well, I have the long night in which to hear your story. Come, you are freezing; you have no coat. Sit by my fire and I'll share my rabbit with you. Tell me your story," Jon said, taking a seat by the fireside and motioning for her to do the same. He couldn't understand why she wore so little clothing out here nor why she was travelling with a dire wolf at her side.
"The cold no touch my skin," the girl said, but she took a seat opposite Jon beside the fire anyway. Once she sat there, cross-legged and straight-backed, she began her story.
"In this land are many stories, many songs. Old stories sometimes die with old people. No one remembers old story of ice children. No more. I was born and old woman know story. Woman dead now. She tells me when she know I am alive. She tell me many things. I was born and my skin freeze-burn old woman. I no cry. My mother cry. She say I was dead baby, curse baby. Old woman try to tell her, 'No, ice baby alive.' My mother no hear her. When old woman leave, my mother take me out to trees and leave me. I cry then. Old woman hear me and run to trees. I was no more. She searched many moons she says. No find. Old woman says no white walker know how to kill ice baby. She say wolves take me. They did. Wolves were my mother and brothers and sisters. One hunt, I find old woman. She says to me, 'Ice baby, come, I tell you things.' She tells me in…wolf tongue." The girl put her hands in a triangle shape and placed them behind her head so that they resembled the ears of a wolf. She moved them in different ways to demonstrate the way the old woman had told her to follow.
"I go to old woman's tree-den. She teach me much common tongue. Teach me to say when I meet man. She tell me story of ice babies. Ice baby only born when dragon born. Ice babies guard the North. No fire burn here because of ice babies. There is ice in ice babies' skin. Old woman says ice babies put paw on dragon belly and dragon freeze. She say ice baby not understood and left to die in trees. She says the wolves take the strong ones. Old woman say to me, 'You are Dragon Bane.' She says I come to world to help make dragons go away. She say to follow crow. You are crow. You show me how to help."
Jon stared at her in absolute shock. What did this mean? He had always wondered why there were no tales of the dragons' destruction in the North, but he never imagined something like this. He was thinking fast and the girl seemed content to let him digest the information. Could a person, a human being, literally have the winter in their skin? He thought of the House Targaryen. Was it not rumored that dragon's blood flowed in their veins? Was it not rumored that that meant no fire could hurt them?
Jon thought that it only made sense for every thing to have a balance, an opposite. Each thing must have a weakness. If the rumors surrounding the House Targaryen were true, then why couldn't this girl's story be true as well? He looked once more at her exposed skin. It was beautiful, flawless, and unmarred by the cold. He could not help but believe her. She could be his answer, his way of finding his friends and even his way of helping his brother Robb without physically being there himself.
"Your name cannot be 'Dragon Bane' while you are with me. That is not a name in the common tongue. Did the woman call you by anything else?"
The girl shook her head.
"I will have to name you then, I suppose. There was a story that I once loved about a girl who had no place in the world except with the wolves. The people in the story called that girl Tala, the stalking wolf. This is the name I would choose to call you." He looked over at the girl and she switched her position to sit her knees upon the ground, and she bowed her head to him again.
"Why do you do that," Jon asked Tala.
She crawled around the fire until she was disturbingly close to him once again. He leaned away from her, still not accustomed to women being near him (and much less accustomed to women with so little an amount of clothing on being near him).
Tala reached her hand out once more and tapped his chin. Then she bowed again.
"This in wolf tongue mean you lead pack," she explained. "I smaller than you."
She certainly was smaller than him. When she stood he had noticed she couldn't have been more that 5'1 or 2. Everything about her was small and lean with muscle. Jon looked and looked at her until he could no longer deny himself; he had to touch her.
He reached out his hand, and she stilled. He ran his fingertips over her exposed collarbone and he saw her skin's paleness gain color wherever he touched. Quite suddenly, he found himself "excited" and, frightened by that, he drew his hand away. He supposed it was the lack of ever being with a woman that got him so excited over a perfect stranger.
He cleared his throat and slid a pace away from her. When he looked at her face, he saw that she seemed frightened too. No; "frightened" was not the right word for what he saw upon her face. It was more like nervousness, an anxiety.
They looked at one another for what seemed an age before Jon shook himself and asked, "What did your old woman mean when she said that the white walkers do not know how to kill you?"
Tala looked at him with those eerily blue eyes and smiled.