Winter Is Engaging
The draw bridge fell, thudding against the frozen ground and spooking the white horse. Rearing back, its rider would take back control and a moment later, urge his steed onward through the icy gates. Passing the guards, the horse slowed, trotting toward the stableman. Removing himself from the saddle, the dashing man approached the other with his steed's reins in hand. Passing coins to the ready stableman, he only nodded as a passing gesture and moved forth.
The stableman was fairly new, not like the old man from his youth who taught him how to ride when Winter was young. Henry learned quickly and was able to ride circles around his still learning, white haired friend. So many memories from this familiar place. Like in the market place just ahead. He would run to the same baker with his best friend chasing his heels, the old man giving both boys sweet bread in the mornings. Noting the baker's stall as he passed, it was the same old prune from his youth, even more wrinkled and gray than before. Recalling his memories, a smile tugged at his mouth for only a moment, for the doors of the castle were upon him.
Opening the large doors, he was quickly halted by a short man in squire's attire. This little man reminded him of a quiet boy he once knew who was always to busy to give him and his white haired friend the time of day. The man would have a scroll and quill in hand, his squinted eyes and waited on him impatiently.
"Winter is coming?" asked the little man, in a bored tone, still not glancing to the newcomer.
Henry smirked at the idea of the next few moments when the little man would have to acknowledge him, discovering the new man he has become. "Winter. Is. Coming," his deep voice echoed down the long hall before him. A gasp left the lips of nearly every man and woman in the crowd as they became aware of the familiar yet new man.
Among the crowd whispers and murmurs of "winter is coming, winter is coming.", rousing the Lord Stark from his chair.
"Winter is coming?" Eddard Stark barked gruffly, silencing the crowd. As the hush settle, all eyes were turned towards Henry, confidently striding towards the Stark man. Henry's clothes made him stick out from the well dressed crowd, his furs and layers of clothes appeared as though they had rough travels.
"Winter is coming," Henry said in a even tone. The higher ranking Stark nodded in a harsh gesture, his brows furrowing slightly. "Winter is coming?" Henry added, soon after the Stark lord's silent response. Disparagingly staring down Henry, Eddard Stark was still unresponsive. "Winter is coming" he said a little less enthused. "Winter... Is coming. Winter is coming. Winter is coming?" Henry proclaimed, his even tone still strong.
Stark's eyes swelled with a fire. He rose from his chair in anger. "Winter," he said trembling, "is coming."
A sweet voice rose above the fire. "Coming, winter is coming." The eyes of the crowd turned towards the voice of reason. Stark's daughter, Lilliana, flicked her eyes towards Henry and smiled, lighting the room. Eddard, seeing this, only fueled his fires.
"Winter is coming?" Eddard Stark exclaimed in an unsure manner, his anger only contained by his daughter's presence.
"Winter." Henry started again, his gaze turning from the fair lady and to the roaring beast. "Winter is coming." he finished, sounding as humble as possible. Another disturbance in the crowd, whispers and rumors flying. Lilliana, now blushing, fanned herself with her hand and batted her eyes. "Winter," she said breathlessly.
"Winter!" shouted another voice. A tall man wearing fancy clothes as the rest stood up in objection. A man whom was familiar to Henry. Rulf, a nobleman of birth, and bully of youth. "Winter is coming." he said in a cockily and confident manner.
"Winter. Winter. Winter is coming." agreed Stark, nodding his head and smiling now, crossing his arms.
Protesting against the men, Lilliana spoke up. "Winter is coming."
"Winter. Winter is coming." Henry quickly said, walking closer and placing his hands on the table between him and Stark.
A scowl appeared on Stark's face, his fires igniting again. His angry eyes trailed over to Rulf, an idea popping into his mind. Relaxing now, he eased back into his chair and nod. "Winter. Winter is coming. Winter is coming. Winter. Winter is. Winter is coming. Winter is coming?" the sneaky Lord offered. Eagerly, Henry nodded, accepting his challenge. Rulf nods as well, smirking, standing with a swagger. "Winter is coming. Winter," exclaimed Starked, waving the competitors away for their challenges to come.
Winter is Fetching
The sun slowly rose above the snowy white hills, the land appearing to glimmer. The skies were beautiful warm shades, dawn barely breaking and the two men were already awake and attending the stables. Rulf, having his serfs saddling his horse, approached Henry, an arrogant smile on his face.
"Winter is coming. Winter is coming?" Rulf asked mockingly, making an attempt to intimidate Henry. Without speaking, Henry only continued to prim his steed, not even giving his opponent a glance. Waiting a moment, Rulf became irked with Henry's lack of response. "Winter is coming" Rulf huffed, turning his nose up to him. Hastily, Henry would mount his horse and withdraw from the stables, leaving Rulf behind.
Guiding his horse to the draw bridge, it slowly lowered down and made a thud against the frozen ground as it did the day before. Henry promptly kicked his horse into a gallop, the steed rearing back a little then bolting out of the gates, heading towards the far off forest.
The ride would take most of the day to arrive, and more to venture deeper inside. Then even more time to find a dragon bone. Then even more time if he was to defeat a dragon, depending if there were and bones vacant or not. For now though, Henry focused on his riding. His hand reached from the reins, grabbed a hanging fragment of fur from his shoulder and he placed it over his face, protecting himself from the chill. Even with his sort of attire, the cold crept close and bit at him.
Passing the silent snow, the horse had eventually tired and slowed, making the journey only seem longer. Time ticking by, the sun would rise and hang high in the sky. And, as soon as it rose, fall dragging shadows along with it. As the shadows stretched to the right of Henry, he looked forward, something catching his eye. Squinting past the snow and cold, spotting a faint picture in the distance, Henry urged his horse back into a gallop, speeding closer. Kicking up snow, the horse carried Henry closer and closer until the image was clear.
Dark green pine trees were scattered around, many naked trees sprinkled along as well. Carefully guiding his horse through the trees, Henry scanned for any intimidate dangers. There seemed to be none present. Though he had made it to the forest, it was hard to tell where to go. Henry could roam the whole forest and not find one dragon bone. Or dragon at all for that matter. Still, he had to look, for the hand of the beautiful maiden, Lilliana was at stake.
Closing in deeper, looking back Henry could not see the clear lands anymore. There was only a collection of trees. Tall and short, dark and light, thin and thick, young and old. Slowly walking, Henry's horse suddenly stopped, stomping it's front hooves a few times. Flicking his ears around and turning his head, the horse now seemed nervous. Henry jolted alive from his frozen state and look around, his hand flying to his bow, the other to his arrows. As he reached for his weapons, he heard a long, deep roar echoing from a distance. Holding his bow ready now, the beast was absent from vision. Hesitantly, Henry kicked his horse forward, still readied.
Riding through the timber, Henry had to abandon his horse soon for the forest was becoming too thick for him to ride through with ease. Tying his horse to a tree, he grabbed his quiver and sword, and attach the weapons to his body. Setting off alone, his journey was now even further lengthened. The shadows were stretched further and further, the cold gnawing on his body, Henry finally spotted something of use. Large, black scales running down a lumbering body. Halting, Henry would grab an arrow, pulling his bow for a shot. Aiming and releasing, the arrow whizzed through the air and lodged itself into the scales of the dragon. There was no reaction from the creature, the silence still upon him and the forest.
"Winter?" Henry asked himself. Slowly and hesitantly, he eased closer, moving around to the tapering end of the beast. It's head lay in the snow, eyes closed and underbelly completely ripped out, nothing but bone, scales, and a bit of skin were left. Placing his bow around his body, Henry trekked closer to the hollowed out cavern of the dragon's belly and walked inside, ducking his head. Glancing down at the ribs then up at the other side, he thought a moment as he determined the easiest way to remove a bone. Henry unsheathed his sword, the sound of metal rubbing along leather and a soft ting echoing out of the dragon's belly.
Turning his attention down, Henry pointed his sword at a rib, striking it down with all his might. The cold being his aid, the now brittle bones would chip away easier and break. The remaining weight of the creature would then push on the broken point, breaking it upward. The fraction of the rib was freed. Henry sheathed his sword and jerked the rib from the skin, peeling it away.
Suddenly, a loud, deep roar would echo from outside, sounding much closer now. Turning around, Henry grabbed for his sword, bone fragment in the other, and turn to witness another dragon. This one much larger. Knowing he was outmatched right away, Henry shoved his sword back into its sheath and move back inside the decaying beast. This was not the best idea though, for the larger dragon was coming for the carcass.
It's yellow eyes spotted Henry quickly and roared, opening it's jaws and pushing it's snout into the hollowed out body. Diving out of the way, the dragon only pushed his jaws through the other dragon, conveniently making an opening through the organic wall. With the dragon pulling his snout away, Henry took his chance and made a break for the hole. Squeezing through the hole and out the other side, he looked back to see the dragon opening it's mouth and breathing fire out. Flames igniting and flowing into the body and forcefully out the hole, they chased Henry as he ran off toward his steed.
The dragon lifted it's head and hunted after Henry, roaring as it climbed over its kin. Flapping its large, powerful wings, the dragon would breath flames after him again. The dragon the lifted it's head, roaring and standing over the dead victim. Stopping it's pursuit, it would be left to it's feast.
Not looking back, Henry sprinted to his horse, grabbed it's reins, swung himself over, and turned his steed around. Kicking the horse into a gallop, he clutched onto the bone to chest so as not to drop it. Looking back now but no longer seeing the beast after him, he could relax a bit. Panting with Henry's attention still forward, he smiled acknowledging how lucky he was.
Returning to the castle, the night already upon them, Henry walked into the long hall for the second time. The fragment of bone, measuring almost as tall as he was, tucked under his arm. His attire was frigid, cold, and snow piled, his eyes confident as he set the bone on the table between the Lord and him. Stark looked unimpressed, angry almost as he looked at the bone.
"Winter is coming?" Stark asked, not sounding happy that Henry was back first. Henry nodded to him and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the doors whipping open.
Rulf entered the hall, a serf at his heels with a bloodied bone in his arms. Winter is coming" Rulf haughtily proclaimed, smiling as snatched the bone from his serf and dropped it on the table next to Henry's. As Henry quickly studyedthe bone, it looked nothing more than a cow's thigh bone, blood and bits of fleshy matter still fresh on it.
"Winter is coming!" exclaimed Eddard Stark with a smile, being much more delighted with Rulf's raw offer. Henry held his tongue, his fingers drumming on the bone he obtained.
Rulf smiled and chuckled a bit, playing as if it were a dragon bone. "Winter." Rulf hastily said, looking proud.
"Winter is coming" Henry said impatiently, interrupting the cozy discussion between Rulf and the Lord Stark. The interruption took Stark aback, looking miffed again.
Nodding his head, Stark would furrow his brows and answer. "Winter. Winter is coming. Winter is. Coming. Winter is coming. Winter. Is. Coming." Explained Stark like before and, again, like before, he waved them away.
Winter Is Red
The next morning, the drawbridge fell once again to the ground, creating the path for a new journey. Exiting the gates, 3 horses galloped to the East, riders upon their back, urging them faster. Henry rode his trusty white steed as perusal, supplies tied, along for the ride. Rulf, on a black as night ride, whipped and kicked his horse faster and faster. Lastly, a dark bay horse carried a sad, little man and endless supplies piled atop him.
The trio would race to the snow capped mountains, cold gusts pushing them back. Arriving to the tallest East mountain, the competitors slowed and looked up toward the seemingly unobtainable challenge. Halting, Henry and Rulf would look to each other then up again, almost daring the other to go first.
Henry, brave and forthcoming, threw himself to the snowy ground, unhitching the supplies off the horse and onto him. He turned to the mountain side and took a deep, icy breath, preparing himself for the worst. Rulf, feeling inferior, his medal was being tested.
Rulf too jumped down, turning back to the serf and called to him. "Winter! Is coming!" He ordered roughly. As soon as he was ordered, the little man struggled off his horse and scurried over, attaching the supplies needed to Rulf's body. Following close behind, Rulf would struggle up the rocks, attempting to pass Henry.
The cold mountain surface froze the fingers and palms of the climbers, the cold air almost suffocating them. As the two scaled higher and higher, the bitter air would thin away, making it harder and harder to breathe. However, both contestants pressed onward, racing against each other and the stinging chill.
Finally, when there seemed to be no hope in finding the top, there was a light at the end. Magnificent glimmers of a rough, lustrous rock reflected off of the sun's setting rays. Perched upon the very peak of the mountain, lovely frost ore stuck out as if being presented to the men. A new hope filled both the climbers, racing even faster to te top.
Suddenly, a loose rock crumbled and fell beneath Rulf's foot. Taking Rulf completely by surprise, he slipped on the ice and snow, fumbling to cling on to the remaining holds of rock. Struggling, Rulf was able to clasp onto a rock. Frantically searching, Rulf struggled to grasp onto another rock, intending to steady himself. Alas, his hands were numb and becoming unable to close around barely anything.
Hearing the struggle, Henry would look back to the Rulf's , Henry went back t to try to help Rulf. He may have been his competitor throughout his life, but he would never wish death upon anyone.
Reaching his hand down to his adversary, Henry called out to Rulf. "Winter is coming!" Henry shouted against the wind. Reaching up with his numb hand, Rulf weakly tried to take the hand offered to him. Although his grip was faltering, the now clung onto Henry's hand.
"Winter!" shouted back Rulf, the unfamiliar winds carrying his voice away. Henry would hold as tightly as he could onto Rulf's hand, his own hand becoming numb and stiff.
"Winter is coming...?" Asked Rulf, his word again blown away with the draft.
"Winter is coming!" Shouted Henry with a shake of his head, pulling Rulf up a bit. Though, he was unable to hold both his own and Rulf's weight, Henry's expression turned gray.
"Winter is coming!" Henry shouted, Rulf's expression turning gray as well. Abruptly, and all to quickly, Rulf's grasp started to slip, his numb hand falling through Henry's fingers.
"Winter!" Exclaimed Rulf, frantically trying to hold on. But his hands couldn't hold any longer and the next thing Henry saw was Rulf falling into the distant mist. Never to be seen again.
Unable to dwell on the situation, Henry turned back to the sparkling ore. Climbing to the peak, his hands now on the frost ore, Henry would remove his blacksmithing, single handed pick ax and chisel the frost away from around the base of the ore. Finally, he was able to loosen the ore enough to jerk the rare rock free.
Returning home, without Rulf, Henry would slowly walk into the castle and place the frost ore on the table, as he did with the bone.
Stark, expecting Rulf, looked around and waited before speaking to Henry again. "Winter is coming?" Stark asked, having waited a long period.
Silence kept Henry, almost unable to speak of the tragedy. Though, he eventually would speak up. "Winter is coming..." he muttered, gasps coming from the crowd of men and women, whispers of "Winter is coming."
Winter Is Coming
"Winter. Winter is coming. Winter is coming. Winter. Is. Coming. Coming" Eddard Stark stated as coldly as the winter that was on its way. Darting his eyes to Stark, Henry held an unusual face of anger at his lack of emotion.
Slamming his hand down on the table next to the ore, Henry shouted at Stark, sore that he was so dismissive about a death. "Winter is coming!" Stark would pause for a moment, taken aback that Henry would even attempt to speak back to him.
"Winter is coming! Winter is coming. Winter" Stark shouted, ordering Henry to again leave out for his last task. "Winter!" added Stark, pointing to the doors.
"Hold on... A snipe doesn't even exist. I mean... Winter is coming" Henry corrected, being confused and bothered by the Lord Stark's words.
"Winter!" Stark shouted, flicking his arm back to door, ordering him to go now.
Just then, a boisterous sound bellowed through the hall. Sounds of collapsing stone walls, far away screams, and cracking wood would echo from the gates. The sounds of destruction would creep closer, Stark and Lilliana flashing their eyes around in fear as the sounds were nigh. Henry, though, seemed cool and collected even as the door flew open and off it's hinges. Lilliana screamed and ran to Henry's arms, finding safety with him.
White swirls of frost and snow would fly in as well, ice creeping in, and snow all over the floors. The source of the destruction was an unlikely suspect, a scrawny fair man with white locks, blue eyes, and a smirk upon his face. He wore brown shorts and a strange blue cloak flowing behind him. In the man's hand was a staff made of wood, a icy blue crystal on it. As the mysterious man walked into the hall, ice and snow would follow him, even spreading up the walls and across the windows. Stark looked obviously scared, yet stood his ground, trembling slightly.
"W-winter is coming?" Questioned Stark, his nose in the air. The white haired man would smirk and glance over to Henry, nodding his head over to him. Then looking back to Eddard Stark, he would lower his chin, his smile spreading throughout his face.
"Winter has just arrived" Winter declared.