This Night and All Nights to Come
Chapter 2
The trek to the tent was a struggle for Jon. The snow was packed and deep and was now coming down in hard torrents. His direwolf, Ghost, was happily trotting beside him, jumping and catching flakes in his mouth. The woman, Sairette, was a few paces in front of him, almost gliding through the snow and turning around ever so often to make sure that Jon was still behind her. She wanted to laugh at his distress but thought better of it. Ghost bounded towards the girl and, to the direwolf's delight, she stopped to pat him on the head. She turned back to look at Jon again, but he did not notice.
When they finally made it to the tent, the girl opened the flap and allowed Jon to enter. When he sat down, he was tired and out of breath. He could not yet appreciate the size of the shelter or the warmth that it surrounded him with. He removed his fur and placed it on the hide floor beside him. Sairette followed Jon in and sat in front of him while his direwolf chose to stand guard outside of the tent.
Jon was now able to look at the girl without the hindrance of the falling snow. She was indeed more pale than anyone he had ever seen before, but this ghost like quality only added to her allure. As she removed her hood, he noted that her locks were heavy with silver coins and ivory beads. She shook her head, like a glittering mane, ridding her hair of ice and snow. She also removed the fur that encompassed her shoulders and sat it down. Jon knew it would be a mistake to call the girl gentle, but her round face gave the impression that she had a softness to her hidden somewhere that needed only to be found.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked the girl as she made herself more comfortable.
"Should I not? You have caused me no harm."
"But your people attacked us -"
The girl rolled her eyes. "Why question luck when it is in your favor?"
The man sat still and quiet for a few moments. The girl did not mind, as she was rummaging through a bag, pulling out various odds and ends until she found what she was looking for. She removed a few things, including a few pieces of dried deer meet and handed them to the man and kept a few for herself. He happily accepted her offering and began eating.
"Will they not come looking for you?" Jon asked between bites.
"No. They will know that I am gone. But I am gone often." She smirked at him, a mischievous grin that seemed to not be a stranger to her lips. "Will your people not come looking for you?"
The man thought of his surroundings outside of the tent. "Would they even know where to look?"
"No. I suppose not."
She moved up very close to him, suddenly excited about something. With wide-eyed naivete, she sat on her knees and began to ask Jon her questions. "So, why do you guard the Barrier?"
"The Wall," he corrected her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "The Wall, then. Is it to keep us out or to keep you in?"
He looked at the dried meat in his hand. "At times I wonder that very thing."
She sat thoughtfully for a moment and, not being able to sit still for too long, started to clean and bandage Jon's forehead. The blood was no longer coming out of his cut, but was caked on his skin, so she carefully attended to it, as to open the wound again. The warmth that radiated off of the girl was comforting and it seemed to flow into Jon better than any medicine could. He smiled faintly at the way she cradled the back of his head in her hand as she worked and the way her steady breath softly left her parted lips, lightly blowing his hair.
After she was finished with his head, Sairette began to wrap Jon's left hand. He looked on as she gently bandaged the wound, careful as to not let her nails scrape against his skin. She looked at his face for a moment, but did not catch his eye. "You never answered my question," she reminded him. "Why do you guard the Wall?"
The tent began to darken and Jon realized that it must be late in the day. He looked at the girl thoughtfully. "People are afraid of what is on this side of it. They fear what is different. What is unknown."
By this time she was done wrapping his hand and she put her palm against Jon's bandaged one. He watched this action curiously, but allowed her to do it. Her hand was smaller than his and her glove made it so that their skin did not actually touch. But her sharp nails softly tickled his fingertips and he wondered how this girl could be such a contradiction of herself - a spear wielding she-wolf, both fierce and tender.
Sairette considered their hands against each other, and smiled at him. "But we're not so different."
Jon smiled back and entwined his fingers with hers. "No, we are not."
She looked down at the hide-covered floor and drop their hands. She decided to change the subject. "How is your head feeling?"
His smile widened when he realized that she was embarrassed at his kindness. Was this not the same girl who looked at him that very day like he was a piece of meat? "It is much better now. Thank you... for everything."
She placed a hand on his knee and he did not know whether to feel uncomfortable or not. Was this uncharacteristic of her or was it her coyness that was an act? "I did not do much. It was to my own benefit anyway. You are a pleasant distraction."
He put his hand on her own and ran it up her forearm and back down. And was this now a game that they were playing? "For any matter, I appreciate your kindness."
She laughed at him and took her hand off of his knee. "It is getting dark. I will take you home soon."