the sword in the darkness
DISCLAIMER: Every character mentioned and anything in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire belongs to George R. R. Martin. I own nothing except the writing. Or, obviously, the phrase, "You know nothing, Jon Snow," or, "You'll see a hundred castles."
A/N: Ygritte was pretty difficult to write at first, and I can't help but worry whether or not I got her right, but all the same, this was as painful as hell.
11. eyes
Ygritte had wanted to see him. She knew that. She'd just wanted to get a glimpse of him, and survive the attack on Castle Black, and travel with her clansmen after while they took what was theirs. She just wanted a small glimpse of him, to see if he was all right, if the leg she'd shot was fine, if he was alive, because even though he'd left her in the end like she'd always feared he would, broke his promise to her in favour of his precious crow's vows, she was his, and he was hers, no matter how far either of them were from each other. Or whatever they did.
Maybe, she'd thought, when they won, when the free folk prevailed, before they killed him, she'd speak to him. What she'd say if she had the chance, she didn't know. Maybe she wanted to ask him why. Ask if he regretted it, leaving her, in any way. Kiss him one last time, get to actually say good-bye, and let him taste the salty tang of tears on her lips.
But, as it turned out, she was wrong this time.
And as she found herself lying on the snow, helpless and exposed, trying not to breathe in too hard as the pain ached in her chest, too weak to try and pull the arrow out and get up, she found her mind empty of thought. Idly, she wondered if she was going to die. She closed her eyes and felt the snow on her cheeks where tears had been long ago before they had dried up, but she opened them at the sound of heavy boots and a familiar lumbering step. There he is. She wanted to laugh, suddenly. Laugh hard and deep and hysterically. You'll see a hundred castles, she heard him say, though a haze of misery that lingered between them. She'd wished that with all her heart, she had.
She touched his cheek, cupped it in her palm, when what she really wanted was to pull his face down and kiss him like she'd done a thousand times before. You know nothing, Jon Snow, she whispered, looking into his eyes, and she saw the agony in them. They were deep and full of secrets and mysteries she'd tried her best to unravel every night they had spent under their furs, and failed at, though perhaps in another life she might have succeeded.