A Son of Ice and Fire
Chapter 23: Coming home
Hiccup
"Lord Stark is dead?" I read out, more like a question than the statement it actually was. Maester Mildew replied only with a sharp nod, a straight face, and no sign of any emotion. I crumpled up the note in my palm and I couldn't dim the fire that was burning inside of me. He was a proud, honourable man just like father, and he had been stabbed in the back the second the king had died. I'd spent many days at Winterfell, and now it just wouldn't feel the same. He was always good to me, and it was always a pleasant change from my dad's disappointed scowl. I used to go there more often in my earlier teenage years. I would train with Jon and Robb in the courtyard and it was nice to have no pressure on me for once. I would lose almost every time to them, but on the rare occasion I got lucky, I looked up to see his clapping and smiling down to us. Now I will never get to see him again, or Sansa, or Arya…
I snapped back to reality, pressing the scrunched-up letter back into the master's old rickety hands. He tried straightening it out, but gave up quickly and tottered off down the hallway. I paused for a moment, before storming off in the other direction. Through corridor after corridor, down two flights of stairs and under the low-hanging arch into the courtyard. The black rock of the castle walls was shining from the rare flashes of sunlight. The day was growing darker, as the sun was setting, and it wouldn't be long before the cold depths of the night was upon us. As I trudged towards the forge, I was staring down, focused only on my boots, and on the floor slowly vanishing under foot. I couldn't think straight, every day it's like I learn something new and it's slowly tearing me apart.
As I reached the courtyard, I was blocked off by two men. One was towering over me, the other was about my height but twice as wide. The loud clinking of their armour alerted me, as they turned to face me.
"Move out of the way." I grunted, a lot more rudely than I intended, as I pushed through them. I only walked a few more paces before I slowed to a stop. I rubbed my hand through my hair and took a deep breath, before turning back towards the two knights.
"I'm sorry Sirs, there's just a lot going on right now." I apologized
"Oh, don't worry about Hiccup, we've survived this long with your father," the taller man spoke. He wore a full set of armour from head to toe, and was the best swordsmen dad had left at the castle. His self-made helmet, unique as anything I'd ever seen. The helmet was shaped like a long cylinder, with the bottom at his chin being far wider than that at the tip of the head. The eye slits were large, and his eyes were kind underneath all the metal.
"That's lord Hiccup to you," the shorter man interjected, while simultaneously giving the other knight a knock on his helmet with his fist.
"Oh, I am sorry Hiccup… Lord Hiccup." The taller man stuttered, receiving a loud sigh from his friend, who also just brought his hand his face to conceal his annoyed expression. Sir Mulch wasn't the picture of your common knight. He was far stubbier and less mobile, but he hs served our family since my father was a boy. Dad said there were no-one he trusted to protect me more than these two men, except Gobber, in a way. The man with the odd helmet is Sir Brendan, although most of what made him Sir Brendan was lost in a hunting accident a decade ago. He was saved, but lost parts of himself, and now prefers to be known as Bucket, a fitting name that matches his helmet.
I could see the taller man becoming a bit more agitated, so I gave him a calming smile, "Hiccup is fine, Bucket, lord Hiccup never suited me anyway," I let out a small chuckle at the ridiculousness of that title. "Thank you for understanding, I know I can have my father's temper at times. I'll let you both get going, there's somewhere I need to go." The two men offered long bows, before I turned away. I calmed myself, before heading to the forge, now at least in a more calm manner. This all felt so surreal. I never wanted to be a lord, now I had the responsibility for our entire family castle. It hasn't burned down yet, so I must be doing something right.
As I entered the forge, the heat of pressed metals hit me like a cavalry charge. Gobber was working way on a new sword, or shield, or axe. I couldn't see clearly through all the mist and steam that was building up in the enclosed space. The rhythmic hammering ringing in my ears. Even as I snuck past into the back room and closed the door behind me, the beat of metal on metal was still a constant, though now slightly faded at least. I pulled out the small wooden chair, and sat slowly down, tucking myself under the desk as the loud scrapes of the chair legs dragged across the stone. The room was dark, and the fading light of the sun barely lit the room through the small window. I stopped to look around for a second. On all sides, bar the entrance, the wooden walls were littered with hundreds and hundreds of scraps of paper. Some new and fresh, others, were years old and browning at the edges. Gobber had given me full access to this room, and it is where I spent thousands of days as I grew up. The wall to the direct front had drawings of all my favourite inventions and creations. My sword. My armour. My shield. All the sheets of the designs were pinned up right there in front of me, as well as a few small things I'm working on. Training was what dad taught me, but this was where I could truly excel. I love how everything fits perfectly together. How the limit isn't your strength, or your power, just your own imagination.
I reached to the side, opening the top drawer and reaching into the darkness. I couldn't see it, but I knew where it would be. I felt my way over various prototypes and trinkets. A dagger, a small axe, a large metal ring among the things I could make out. As I reached the back of the drawer, I finally felt the hilt in my fingers. I slowly pulled out the sword, admiring the shine of the steel as the light struck the blade. It was small, but sharp, with a slight curve in the metal giving the sword a beautiful shape. I ran my fingers slowly up and down the smooth steel, hovering over the words I had engraved, 'When winter comes, I will always be by your side." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before mumbling softly to myself, "Arya, I know you're out there. Please be safe. This will always be here waiting for you when I see you again."
"RIDERS AT THE SOUTH GATE!" A booming voice bellowed from the battlements. I carefully laid the sword back down onto the desk, before shooting out of the room. In the rush, I knocked the chair over, the gust a wind blowing a few of the papers on the desk all over the floor. I slammed the door behind me, as I rushed out into the centre of the smithy, running straight into Gobber. As I squeezed out of the forge entrance, just before he had blocked my path, I sprinted up the hard steps and up to a highpoint overlook the southern gate. Three horses were approaching, yet only two were being ridden. As the first rider lowered their hood, I could see it was actually a woman. Sat proudly upon the beautifully coloured black and brown mare, she rode with elegance, yet her eyes were darting around nervously. Her purple eyes. The black stallion following her carried another two women, the first looked to be asleep in the hands of the person behind her. The weather was growing cold now that the sun had fully set, and I wouldn't leave them out there to freeze to death.
"OPEN THE GATE." I shouted, as I made my way back to ground level and stood next to Gobber. As the first woman entered, I saw him gasp in shock, his mouth wide open. I looked around and several of the older soldiers were also acting similarly. Bucket and Mulch came running but were halted in their tracks. Bucket remove his helmet, eyes wide open in astonishment. He dropped to one knee, pulling his sword out and plunging it point first into the dirt. I was looking around, completely and utterly confused. What is going on? Gobber stepped forward towards the woman, who gave a long wide smile as she ran up and hugged him. Gobber gestured for me to come forward,
"Laddie, erm, this, is…" He stuttered, before being interrupted by a loud, piercing cry.
"HELP HER. PLEASE HELP HER." The voice was soft, yet the emotion I could hear in the plea was heart-breaking.
I quickly rushed past until I was almost at the side of the black horse. The beautiful rider-less white mare was bouncing around skittishly. The stallion's rider had her arms wrapped tightly around the waist of the sleeping rider. The black-haired girl's tear covered cheeks and blood-stained clothes now clearly showing the other girl is definitely not sleeping.
"Please help her," she pleaded onc more, now more softly. I nodded immediately, reaching my arms up towards the front of the horse where the unconscious rider was laying, still gripped tightly in the girl's arms. The horse was quite tall, but I could just about reach the top of its back. I place my left arm under the legs, and stretched my right arm up towards the back of the injured rider. The bright green eyes of her friend staring into mine.
"Let me help her." I said softly. The girl paused for a second, before nodding and lowering the other into my arms. It had rained most of the day, and I could feel how soaked her heavy fur coat was I placed my right arm around her. With my left now firmly under her knees, I carefully turned and slowly headed inside.
"Get Mildew. Now." I voiced to Gobber, as I walked past. The two women followed me, as I headed back through the archway and up the stairs. Although I couldn't see what was wrong with her, the cold breaths forming small clouds of mist above her lips at least let gave me hope she would make it. As we headed deeper into the warmth of the castle, I tried to whisper soft reassurances, "you're safe now… no-one can hurt you… I know you can make it through this." It's not like she could actually hear it, but deep down it felt like it was helping. That's all that matters.
With the forge work, and all the practice dad forced on me, it had at least given me enough strength to handle myself, yet as we reached the top stair, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. The girl wasn't that heavy or hard to carry, but the journey from the courtyard wasn't a short one. And it's not like I have experience in picking up and carrying girls. The door was half open, and I gently pushed it open with my foot, before I carried her inside. I gently removed her thick, damp coat and the swamped, fur boots as the other women quickly followed into the room. I placed her legs carefully onto the bed, before resting my hand on the back of her head as I laid her down onto the pillow. I reached down to pick up a blanket, and I slowly started to pull it over her. Only then did I notice the thick bulge of bandages wrapped around her lower chest, and the darkened colour of the shirt, where the blood had soaked through. It was only then that I noticed that her skin was pale and cold, yet her forehead was burning up from what must be a fever. It was only then that I noticed, despite everything… she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen…
GAME OF THRONES SEASON 1 END
A/N: I have decided that this is going to be the last chapter for season 1 of thrones (timeline wise). I think this is a nice resolution to the first part of this story. 23 chapters and 60k words later and I'm only 1/8th of the way through, I told you this would be a long one. I'm just letting you all know that I have decided to put this story on hold for 2-3 weeks while I get everything sorted at university, and so it is very likely there won't be an update for this story until the 25th-30th January. I have two or three chapters written out on paper, but I will finalise and publish them at that later date to kickstart season 2. It will be a few weeks, so make sure to follow so you can know when I get back to the regular uploads. Any reviews on season one would be greatly appreciated, and I will make sure to answer any questions in PM that you have. Thank you all for your support :)