A Son of Ice and Fire

A/N: This chapter probably could have been split into two, with more at Craster's, but I realised I didn't want to just copy the TV material, and doing what I've done has pushed the story on better.

AJFury: I'm sorry about that. Just be warned, this won't be the last heart-breaking chapter :**(

Guest: Of all the major houses I've added, the Haddock words are 'Fire from ice.' The Jorgenson words, as stated by Spitelout during the sea attack in chapter 13 are 'Here comes the storm.' The Ingerman words, stated by Fishlegs' father in chapter 4 are 'As one we stand.' The Hofferson and Thorston words will be revealed at a later point, I assure you :)

Guest: The Haddock Sigil is a red Dragon on a black background (as shown on Hiccup's armour). The Ingerman sigil is a golden heart, with two swords crossing over it, on a purple background (That's what I chose as the pommel for Fishleg's sword in chapter 11 so I'll keep it at that.) The Hofferson one is a gold star on a light blue background. The Jorgenson sigil is an image of a red set of fangs on a black background (to match the name of the Jorgenson castle and sword). I will take an idea from a reader's review and from now on, the Thorston Sigil will be a green two-headed snake on a white background.

Guest: At some point, yes, Hiccup will make his flame sword. I'm planning on using the armour I've designed for Hiccup to be what he wears in battle, but this will transition more towards the HTTYD2 outfit as more flying is involved.

Guest: I think I am definitely doing a Stoick POV now I think about. Game of thrones POV coming down the line too.

Guest: I think I'll leave the dragon's descriptions quite light, so this way, if you want to see them as the HTTYD ones, that is very possible. I'll just probably say that there has been evolutions etc. causing the dragons to have new abilities :)

Therealsteal: While I do agree with you about Toothless, it just wouldn't work with how I planned it. It'll just make it that much better when the dragons actually come onto the scene. That way it doesn't get stale having Toothless just there for no reason for 90% of the story.

Guest: For those worried about Stoick, all I'm going to say is that he shouldn't be the one you should be worried for… for now.

Guest: I've tried describing Dragon's edge as best I can to convert it into a castle. In my story, the castle is made out of black stone like Dragonstone, but I have tried to incorporate race to the edge features into it.

Sam Hill: The Haddock sigil is a red dragon on a black dragon. If you picture that as the one from the book of dragons, then I have no arguments with that at all :)

Odinson: I do like your idea, but I've already wrote in over half of the sigils already, so it'd be a bit hard to change now.

Guest: If anything, Valka would have to be Rhaegar's older sister, to make her relationship with Stoick possible. I'll make a decision on this later on and when I know what I want to do with it, you will too :)

Batmd: I'm not having Hiccup and Snotlout be related in this one. It's a bit difficult to add in, with where I've placed the characters, especially as how I've added Viggo and Dagur as Snotlout's 'family'.

Guest: I'm sure Hiccup and Stoick may patch things up. Probably…

Chapter 34: The nightmare never ends

Fishlegs

"How are you feeling?" Jon asked cautiously, upon hearing me groan, as I snapped my eyes awake.

"I'm not dead?" I murmured, from beneath the mountain of shirts and cloaks piled upon me. I quickly sat up, shuffling forwards, so close to the fire that the backs of my hands are almost burning. I breathed heavily against my palms, the relaxing warmth spreading down my sleeves and under all my layers, across my chest, forming a barrier to the cold. The sun is bright and high, its light spraying down upon the snow, as the horrors of yesterday soon start to sink in. I felt a light brush against my shoulder, as Jon came and sat next to me, smiling as he passed over some sort of hot drink.

"No, you're not dead." He chuckled. "It was close though, by the time me and Eret got you back." As he finished, Eret came walking towards us but stopped to lean on a tree a few metres away.

"Thank you both." I said honestly, making eye contact with both of them.

"I should be thanking you. We had no chance there until you saved me." Jon beamed, as he put his arm around my shoulder. I couldn't help smiling, even more so after Ghost began to nuzzle up against my leg. I softly placed my hand on the wolf's head, as it lowered it, as if gesturing a bow, before it soon bounded back around to Jon's side. I took a few sips of the drink, before forcefully spitting it out, watching the liquid melt small holes in the snow.

"That. That is awful." I sputtered, making Jon chuckle, before forcing myself to take another drink. Though utterly revolting, the feeling of the heat inside me gave me more than enough of a reason to suffer the taste. "Eret, have some." I offered, turning to face the giant of a man. Looking to be about thirty-five, with dingy blonde matted hair and a narrow jawline. He gave a shrug, then strolled straight to us.

"If you insist." He conceded, taking the tanker, and taking a long, deep swig, before wiping his mouth. "I don't know what you were complaining about, it's not bad." He laughed, passing it over to Jon.

"No, you're right, nothing can be as bad as yesterday. That was awful." I mumbled quietly.

"We got you back quickly Fish, but it was left to the Gods if you survived the night. That should be something worth celebrating" Jon said optimistically. I couldn't meet his gaze, just staring into the fire, watching the embers flicker away.

"How are you so calm?" I asked sharply. "I killed three people. THREE! One with my own bare hands." I said ashamedly, before feeling the lurch in my stomach, as I violently through up. I turned back to face him, but it hit me once more, and soon I was gagging again. Jon removed his hand from my shoulder, instead patting me gently on the back, as he reached into pack for a small pouch of water.

"I'm not as calm as you think. The man I killed out there. He was my first. I didn't want to do it, but I did what I had to do to survive. As did you." He reassured calmly, passing it across. I took it off of him, unscrewing the lid and taking a long swill.

"Sometimes you don't have a choice, Fishlegs, some things are out of your control and you have no choice but to act." Eret added insightfully, walking over, and sitting opposite me, on the other side of the fire.

"But… That's not me. I'm not a killer. I'm not a…" I whimpered, holding my head in my hands in shame.

"You are what you needed to be." Jon said, pulling my arms down to look at me. "You didn't have to help. You could have stood by and let me and Ghost die. That's why you are worthy to be a ranger. You showed true courage back there. Your father would be proud." He said confidently.

"I don't think he would." I said regretfully. "He would have wanted me to restore House Ingerman and all I've done is run away as far away as I could. I can hardly take the castle back from Drago if I'm dying up here." At Uncle's name, Eret's eyes, if only for a moment, looked pierced by fear. His lip curled fiercely at one side, but by the next second, all the signs were gone. What was that about? Does he know Drago?

"Surely your father would want you to live your life how he taught you. Focus on your actions now. Not this… Drago's." He said haphazardly, skimming the man's name off his lips at such a pace you could have missed it.

"He's right, Fish." Jon compounded. "You just need to realise that there is nothing wrong with doing your duty. You shouldn't feel guilty, or angry at yourself. You did what was necessary, and next time I'm sure you'll do it again." I listened carefully, taking one final gulp of the water, before passing it back across. I know they're right. I know it. If they were in danger again, I wouldn't ever do anything different. But why did I feel nothing? I didn't even pause to think before I killed them. I sighed heavily, as I looked down at my palms. These hands ended someone's life. Even now, I can still feel the man's neck struggling violently within my grasp, and then it falling still within my fingers. How can I live with myself after this? As I fought myself internally, the imposing footsteps of the Lord Commander crunched in the snow loudly, causing Eret to jolt back instinctively, beginning to draw his sword. Upon seeing who it was, he quickly shuffled his sword back into its hold, before making a quick exit. There's definitely something going on with him. That is for certain.

"Jon, could you give us a moment?" Lord Jeor asked leisurely. Jon nodded to me, before picking up his pack.

"Yes, Lord Commander." Jon replied, before heading off to join the others. Now in private, the Lord Commander reached out his arm towards me. I paused for a second, but firmly shook it, as he grinned at me. His ink-black cloak was blowing gently in the wind, as the icy chill came in on one more attack run. Still need to get used to that. With a gruff laugh, he released me, and turned to bathe his hands in the warmth of the flames.

"There's not many I've known, that could have survived something like that, especially this far North." He began. "Jon told me what happened. Will you still be able to manage until we reach Craster's?" I nodded briefly. I've come this far, I can hardly go back now. "Good. We'll need all the men we can, especially those proven in battle."

"I'm not…" I denied.

"Wildlings are coming further and further South. They must be running from something, or they wouldn't be anyone near here. We are going to see plenty more of them by the time we next sit in Castle Black. That won't be the last time you'll have to put your life on the line." He continued directly, ignoring my comment.

"I don't think I can do that again." I admitted nervously.

"Listen to me, Fishlegs, no matter what happens, you have to fight." He said sternly, holding me by the shoulders. "Out here, everyone and everything is against you. It's life or death. No in-between. Once we get further in, you'll realise there's nothing more dangerous out here than your conscience. They are the enemy. That's all there is. I know you won't fail me."

"I won't, Lord Commander." I replied as confidently as I could.

"Good man." He said proudly. He gave me a conclusive nod, before turning and heading away, as heavy snow began to fall.

Two days later we finally arrived at somewhere that wasn't entirely abandoned. More of an overgrown shack than a keep, but it was warm. Thank the Gods for that. The place was disturbing. I mean, having your own daughters as wives. That's something incredibly perverse. What a horrible life those women must have. Stuck here with no-one but him. I shoved that thought to the back of my mind, as I trudged out into the cold. Jon, Pip and Grenn were tasked with cleaning out the livestock, so I forged myself a pathway through the snow towards them.

"Why do we have to do stuff like this?" Pip moaned loudly, while using the shovel to hurl lumps of excrement to the side.

"Yeah, they don't really tell you how much shit-shoveling is involved when you sign up." Pip grunted, flinging a load full behind him.

"We're practically done anyway, so can you two stop moaning for a minute." Jon grumbled, finishing his third of the job, and planting his shovel firmly into the ground. He looked up to see me, then turned to the other two, "I'll see you two later, when you actually finish your job for once. Come on Fish, let's see what Sam is up to." He lead the way out of the makeshift pen, as we headed to the far corner of Craster's domain. It took us about ten minutes due to the unforgiving weather conditions, as the heavy blizzard hit us constantly, but soon the shape of Sam scuttled into view, with, a… woman.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Jon said uncomfortably.

"This… is Gilly." Sam responded nervously, tilting his head to look back at the young woman. "She has asked if we can help her." I looked over at the woman. Her face flustered, and her hand curled awkwardly about her lower torso. She caught me looking and brought a second hand down to cover her stomach.

"Please don't shun me away. We need your help." She pleaded. We? Yeah, she's definitely with child.

"You're pregnant, aren't you… Gilly?" I asked tentatively. She sighed, then nodded.

"I'm one of Craster's daughters, Sam said you could possibly help me." She said nervously.

"Help… How?" Jon asked uneasily. Sam shifted around for a few seconds, before he met anyone's eye contact, then he looked to us. With a pleading look in his eyes, he took a deep breath.

"We need to take her with us when we leave." He blurted out. Take her with us. Come on Sam. Are you serious? We can barely protect each other, never mind a pregnant lady. I was about to respond, when Jon beat me to it.

"That is absolutely mad, Sam. It's impossible. It's…" Jon argued.

"We are sworn to protect. She needs…" Sam protested, stepping closer to Jon, to try to beg him to go along with it.

"She needs a warm bed, and to not be walking miles and miles in the cold winds." I responded. This clearly means a lot to him, but there's just no way we can help her. "I'm sorry, Sam, it's just not safe for her."

"Please, Sir, please." Gilly begged me, hands cupped in front of her. All I could do was reply with a shake of the head. "I can still run if I have to."

"It's just not possible." Jon said softly.

"I'm going to have a baby. If it's a boy…" Gilly started, but quickly hushed herself.

"If it's a boy, what?" Jon questioned intently. She went to respond but couldn't. She closed her eyes and stepped back. Jon just sighed, as he turned to Sam, then back to the frightened girl.

"You want us to risk our lives for you, and you won't even tell us why?" He challenged her. "Two days ago, we both nearly died." He said, looking over to me. "You are in more danger if we take you."

"I'm sorry, if we could help, we would." I finished. Gilly just backtracked further, tears forming in her eyes, as she turned and walked away. Sam tried to reach for her hand, but she was already gone. He sighed heavily, before turning to face us both.

"Why'd you do that?" Sam whimpered. He stepped forward a pace, a hurt look in his eyes.

"What? Ask her a question." Jon replied coldly.

"You were cruel." Sam blubbered.

"Cruel?" Jon replied loudly, seemingly surprised at Sam's reaction.

"We couldn't take her Sam. There is no point leading her on. That would be crueler." I interjected, hoping to split up the argument, before it got too heated.

"You lose a hand for touching her, what do you think Craster would cut off you for stealing her?" Jon followed up, more softly this time.

"I can't steal her, she's not a goat." Sam responded innocently. Jon just took a deep breath, as Sam looked to me for assistance.

"We're going further and further into Wildling territory. We can't take a girl with us." I reasoned to him.

"Mormont wouldn't have it." Jon added. "And even if he did, what would we do with her? We could hardly deliver the baby."

"I could try." Sam pleaded. "I've read books about it."

"I'm sorry Sam, it can't be done." Jon said softly

"Fish. Please help me." Sam begged one last time.

"We can't do it, Sam. I'm sorry, we just can't." I replied coolly, but inside it was heartbreaking to see how much pain this would cause Sam just to leave her here. Sam gave one last hopeful look, before taking a deep breath and sulking away. As he left earshot, Jon gave a defeated look towards the ground, sighing heavily. "That was hard, but we just couldn't help her." I said sincerely.

"Doesn't make it any easier." He responded solemnly. As he looked back up, Ghost suddenly sprinted past us and into the wilderness. "GHOST!" A look of panic panned across his eyes, as he darted after the wolf. I'm not making this mistake again. I set off with them, at least together we should stand a better chance.

Drawing our swords and storming our way through the blizzard, we covered ground faster and faster. The soft, fluffy snow crunching loudly under foot, hardening as it compacts. Behind us, the deep footsteps quickly get filled, as the snowstorm rages on. Everything around us a picture of black and white. Only the leafless, dying trees blocked us as we advanced, the only sound being the stomping of boots, and heavy panting as the cold air filled our lungs. A swift, sharp breeze pierced through my heavy cloak, like a dagger to the heart. As we breathlessly charged forward, a tense, battle-ready wolf stood silently, back arched, staring into the distance through a split in the trees. I looked over to Jon, who nodded confidently, as we slowed our steps and moved to either side of the wolf. Two trees forming a V-shape were in front, as Ghost peered through the middle. Taking one tree each, me and Jon held there, not moving a muscle as our backs rubbed against the bark. Without letting a single sound be heard, we slowly inched our heads around, watching through the blizzard. Nothing. Time itself stood still. Yet, as we did nothing but watch on, the silence broke by something neither of us expected. The loud wailing of a crying child…

As the howling of the baby pierced the air, the snowstorm almost instantly died. Chilling winds seemed to bow down and fade into the ground itself, as no more flakes of snow fell. How is this possible? Only then did I see the silhouette emerging from the distance. Almost perfectly blending into the background, the figure's shape could only be seen when its path crossed in front of the trees on its way forward. As the visibility increased, the source of the noise was clear. In a thin blanket on the snow, a newborn child lays freezing, frost already forming on its lips. Within moments, the hidden figure silently approached, until it was inches away. With a thick hardwood behind it, the identity of the creature was easy to make out. Not that that makes it any less terrifying. As it picked up the child, I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. The urge to run, almost burning in my soles. As the thing turned to leave with the child, I turned to Jon.

"White Walker… White Walker." I squealed quietly. Not quietly enough. Ghost began to growl loudly, as I turned back to see that the creature had vanished. Gone. Only a soft crackling a bit too close for comfort caught my attention, and then I caught the sight of an icy hand clawing at a tree a lot closer than either of us wished it was. "RUN!" I yelled, as I turned and sprinted. Jon caught up quickly, with Ghost nervously looking back as he ran between us.

"It's on my side. Go. I'm faster than you. I'll draw it away. GO! NOW!" Jon ordered, as he and the wolf split off left. I went to argue, but he was right, together we would just both die. I darted diagonally right, constantly checking over my shoulder, expecting to suddenly have my life stripped away. I ran. Faster than I had ever ran before. The heavy cloak dragging me back, as the wind began to howl around me. Arms and legs pumping, I could finally see it. The outline of Craster's. I never thought I'd be so happy to be back here. I charged through the snow, snapping onto a path that led to the entrance. I'm safe. I'm safe. My mouth curled into a smile, my arms raised in joy, as I could see the rough images of people start to appear in the distance. I'm safe. Yet as I pushed further, A small prick hit me sharp in the side of my neck. Almost instantly, I dropped to my knees. Limbs numbing to nothingness, I forced my right hand up to my neck. Grasping at the feathers, I slowly pulled it out, holding it in my hands. A dart. What is this? What's happening? Before I could ask anything more, my head hit the snow. Two strong arms grabbed at my waist, spinning me over and dragging me backwards. I looked up, eyes on the verge of closing, to meet the messy caramel mop belonging to Eret.

"I'm sorry, old friend, but Drago has waited long enough to have his family reunion…"