Note: Large segments of this are copied or slightly adjusted from A Storm of Swords by George RR Martin.

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CHAPTER 4: Heights of Love

Jon had learned how easy it was to lose your way beyond the Wall. Jon couldn't say with any certainty what was right or wrong, and he wasn't sure he could tell honor and shame apart anymore. He'd been made to inform on his brothers at the Wall to keep himself trusted by the Wildlings, and alive, at that. And, what felt worse, was he had confirmed Ygritte's lie that they, as she had phrased it, "danced beneath his cloak many a night." Jon did not regret, per say, falling in with Ygritte, but it did make his conscious prickle uncomfortably from time to time. Less often as they had grown closer, and they had grown closer.

Two days ago, he'd been sent with Jarl, Ygritte and Styr, the Magnar of Thenn (Jon had learned that Magnar was a bit like a Lord), to cross the Wall. With them would be perhaps two dozen men in total. Some were Jarl's raiders, all who were experienced, but others were to be Thenns. Jon shared a slight frown with Ygritte but didn't linger on it. He might not like Thenns, but he was more troubled by being sent to the Wall.

"It is time you proved your loyalty with more than words," Mance had told Jon gravely.

Mance would take the rest of the Wildlings to the Wall as well, where they meant to open the Gate and cross through, as no Wildlings had done in hundreds of years. But then, Mance had assembled the many Wilding tribes and made them into an army the Wall had not seen in likely thousands of years.

Jon had been forced to confess it was the Old Bear who had led the expedition North of the Wall, with most of the men, leaving Bowen Marsh in charge of the Wall. Mance had laughed once or twice at that, but to Jon he looked more relieved than anything else. "If that is true," he had mused, "and we get to the Wall before them, we have already won."

Jon thought that was probably an accurate summarization. He grimaced.

That same day he had spoken to Mance and been commanded to head to the Wall, an eagle had tried to take his eye out. He could vividly remember the feeling of its talons in his face, and the hard ground against is back. When he had managed to open his eyes and scramble for a sword, it was Ygritte his eyes fell to, standing over him protectively and staring up at the bird. It had been Orell's eagle, she told him.

"Some of the man still lives in the eagle," Tormund, who apparently knew quite a bit about wargs, had said then. He too was looking up at the bird. A moment later, Ygritte had shot it out of the sky, and no more lived of Orell, in a bird or otherwise. They watched it fall to the ground, dead.

Jon wondered how much of him was in Ghost. Then he thought of the dreams he'd had, when he had been Ghost in the night, and wondered how much of Ghost was in him.

It was a nasty cut, but luckily it had missed his eye. Other than that, little had happened since he had joined the Wildlings a few weeks ago. He had grown to like many of them, he supposed. Eating with them every night and still considering them as enemies was difficult. He knew who he was in his heart, though. As Qhorin had told him to do.

They were little less than a day's ride from the Wall now. They had some thirty men with them, and Jon wasn't sure what they would do when they reached it.

"What happens when we get there?" Jon asked Ygritte.

She gave him a wry smile. "We climb."

He must have known that, he thought. Old Nan had told him and his brothers and sisters stories of Wildling savages climbing the Wall when he was young.

"Oh," was all he said.

Ygritte looked up at the sky. "We ought to stop for the night," she called to the Magnar. to Jon, she quietly said, "We passed some caves a half mile back, you fancy some exploration, Jon Snow?"

He grinned at her, although his stomach still felt strange at the revelation he'd have to climb the Wall soon.

The Magnar didn't stop his horse. "It's too early to stop."

Ygritte stopped, and Jon next to her. Ahead, Styr reluctantly did the same, and in the rear Jarl hurried to join them and them stilled.

"Unless you want to start climbing tonight in the dark," she said in her defiant voice, "This is as good a place to stop as any. Besides we can do some hunting and get some fresh meat before the morning."

That convinced him. "Fine."

Jon and Ygritte quickly fed and watered their horses at a nearby creek and field, where the others were starting to make camp.

"Jon and I'll go hunting," Ygritte was quick to volunteer, smiling again at Jon.

The Magnar snorted and Jarl rolled his eyes. "Right. Hunting," said the Magnar. "You'd better bring back something, then."

Jarl said nothing. Jon had found him hard to dislike and easy to like. The man, who was little older than Jon said hardly anything, but when the Magnar had said he'd half a mind to have wolf for dinner a night into their journey, it had been Jarl who had first told him to shut up. Jon knew that Jarl had taken a liking to Ghost after the direwolf allowed Jarl to get close enough to pet him once, but Jarl had, like most who met Styr, seemed less than eager for a confrontation with the Magnar. Jarl had surprised him then, but he supposed there was a reason Ghost had allowed him to touch him. Jon hoped he wouldn't have to fight Jarl.

Quickly, Jon and Ygritte slipped away and quickly found the caves. Ygritte stood in front of the largest one and seemed to listen hard for a moment. Jon did as well but heard nothing.

"What? What is it?" he asked her when she suddenly smirked triumphantly and entered the cave.

She looked at him oddly, as though it were obvious. "You didn't hear it, Jon Snow?"

"Hear what?"

She snorted and didn't answer.

He followed her through the cave, and for a few minutes they walked in darkness. Then, Jon heard it too and they came to what Ygritte had heard back at the cave's mouth.

"Water?" Jon said. Then he looked past the pool deeper into the cave. "I wonder how deep it goes."

"It goes on and on and on. There's a passage goes down further. There are hundreds o' caves in these hills, and deep down they all connect. There's even a way under your Wall. Gorne's Way."

Jon frowned and tried for a moment to remember where he had heard of a Gorne before. It came to him quickly, in the voice of Winterfell's Maester. "Gorne was King beyond the Wall."

"Aye. Together with his brother Gendel, three thousand years ago. They led a host o' free folk through the caves, and the Watch was none the wiser. But when they come out, the wolves o' Winterfell fell upon them."

Jon knew the tale. "There was a battle. Gorne slew the King in the North, but his son picked up his banner and took the crown from his head and cut down Gorne in turn."

"And the sound o' swords woke the crows in their castles, and they rode out all in black to take the free folk in the rear."

"Yes. Gendel had the king to the south, the Umbers to the east and the Watch to the north of him. He died as well." Jon couldn't see Ygritte in detail, as they stood near the water in the darkness.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow. Gendel did not die. He cut his way free, through the crows, and led his people back north with the wolves howling at their heels. Only Gendel did not know the caves as Gorne had and took a wrong turn. Deeper he went, and deeper, and when he tried t' turn back the ways that seemed familiar ended in stone rather than sky. Soon his torches began t' fail, one by one, till finally there was naught but dark. Gendel's folk were never seen again, but on a still night you can hear their children's children's children sobbing under the hills, still looking for the way back up. Listen? Do you hear them?"

They listened. All Jon could hear was water, and Ygritte breathing beside him. It had been a bit of a sad story, but he didn't think Ygritte was sad, and he didn't feel sad either. He felt very far from sad, in fact.

The water was cold, but he felt quite warm when he pulled Ygritte to him in it.


On their way back, Ygritte shot a few rabbits, and they ate them roasted that night.

The next morning, Jon took a bit of rabbit left over and fed it to Ghost. The direwolf had hunted last night, but come to their camp early in the morning, as if sensing Jon needed him. Jon sat next to animal, and grinned when Ghost's head was of a height with his own. He took of the gloves he wore and sunk both his hands into the direwolf's fur. Ghost turned his eyes to look at him piercingly.

"You cannot come with me," he told Ghost, cupping the direwolf's large head. "You have to go to Castle Black. Do you understand? Castle Black. Can you find it? The way home? Just follow the ice, east and east, into the sun, and you'll find it. They will know you at Castle Black and maybe your coming will warn them." Jon had briefly thought of writing a letter to go with Ghost, but he had nothing to write on or with, and discovery would mean death. He looked back to the wolf, and his heart ached painfully. "I will meet you again at Castle Black," he continued. "But you have to get there by yourself. We must each hunt alone for a time. Alone."

It sounded sad even to his ears, and he was glad Ygritte had gone hunting and he was a ways away from the others.

Ghost blinked at him once, then twice. For a moment, Jon knew the wolf had understood him and was as mournful as he was. Then the animal was gone.

He sat a moment, then stood up, put on his gloves, and went to find Ygritte. Today was the day he would climb the Wall.

The Wall was said to be seven hundred feet tall. All rock and hard ice. Thinking of this, Jon was less than eager to climb it. Looking at it, he felt ill.

Jarl, an experienced if young raider, told them this was probably true enough but not for all of the Wall. There were places where it was taller, and places where it was lower. Jarl had chosen a place to climb that taller. If most of the Wall was about seven hundred feet, then here was probably closer to eight hundred. Jon had been horrified to hear this.

"But why?" he had asked Jarl, stricken.

Jarl gave him a rare grin. "Because," he said, sounding pleased with himself. "Here the Wall is about a third stone and earth, not ice. Ice is too chancy to climb, so the less the better. It can break. Stone is tricky, that's true, but there are ledges that are more secure than ice is. Trust me, Snow, this is best."

"Have you done this before, Jarl?"

He smiled again and doing so made him look young. Indeed, he looked so young, Jon could hardly believe him when he said, "Three times."

Jarl and his eleven raiders, all of whom looked born to climb and had done this before, were unimpressed with the sight of the Wall when they stopped in the trees to look at it. But the Thenns with them, including the Magnar, paced and most went extremely pale. Jon, having seen it before, just craned his neck to see the top. They were nowhere near any maned castles, of course, and there would be no one atop it, but still, Jon couldn't help but look.

The others began to make ready, and Ygritte took off the bag she carried and began to unload it. Jon watched as others wound thick coils of rope around one shoulder and then down across their chests. They had odd boots made of doeskin, with spikes jutting from the soles. Ygritte told him some of them were metal, but most were jagged bone. She smiled, although there was a nervous edge to her face, and told him the ones they would use were elk bone. She handed him rope and the boots. He helped her tie the rope around herself, and her around him, they she tied them together with perhaps fifteen feet of rope.

"In case you fall," she'd said. "The other can catch you."

He had nodded and aspired to stay above Ygritte, to be in a better position in case she fell. He would not let her fall, nor let himself fall.

Ygritte had small stone-headed hammers as well, and she tied one to her hip. Jon did the same. On her other side she had a small leather pouch. When Jon received an identical one, he opened it and took out one of many sharp stakes.

Jarl and his eleven raiders split into three teams of four. Jarl spoke to them, although everyone heard and were listening; in the time since the Wall, they meant to climb had been seen, anything Jarl said now was listened to very closely, as though he might casually tell you the secret of how not to die when climbing. The young raider was beyond revered. "Mance promises swords for every man of the first team to reach the top," he told them. "Southron swords of castle-forged steel. And your name in the song he'll make of this, that too. What more could a free man ask? Up, and the Others take the hindmost!"

Jarl and his men made for the Wall then. Jarl had found a tree close to the Wall, and they climbed it first for an edge of height. Jon couldn't believe the tree had been allowed to grow so tall and so close to the Wall, but he supposed they were at a fairly desolate part of it. Rangers hardly ever traveled here, on the ground or on the Wall.

The plan was that Jarl and his would climb first, then another wave including Jon and Ygritte, and then the last of them. They were to be spaced out by about six hours. This was so that if anyone fell they were less likely to knock down others on their way to the ground. There was a hard pit in his stomach as he watched the small figures climb the Wall, growing smaller and smaller as they did.

The first fall happened about two hours in.

"There!" said Ygritte, craning her neck.

Jon looked. He had missed the fall itself, but he could see the man being held only be a rope, dangling back and forth slightly. His heart was beating strangely as he watched, and he certainly felt ill. He was wishing he hadn't eaten that morning.

But the man didn't die. Within a minute of falling, he had sunk his hammer back into the Wall and reclaimed his footing. The tether tied around him had held, and Jon wondered whether it had been secured to a stake in the Wall, or one of his team. He and Ygritte watched in silence as they slowly continued to climb.

It was uneventful for another hour or two. Jon and Ygritte were sitting in the shade of a tree, checking and triple checking they had secured themselves tightly.

Jon just happened to be watching the Wall as it happened. It was extraordinarily bad luck, he though, that he even saw it. His breath caught in his throat when the small dot fell from the Wall. He didn't—couldn't— say anything through his suddenly too tight throat, but Ygritte must have seen his face and followed his gaze. Seeing the Wall, she jetted to her feet.

Jon stayed sitting. A man had fallen, but unlike the first time, where everything had gone well, this time things were bad. The falling man had ripped another down with him. Two men dangled on the Wall. Jon watched the next man to see if he was to fall. When he didn't, Jon sighed. The men were so high up on the Wall it was hard to see what was going on.

Time dragged on. Jon knew as he watched that they were unable to regain their feet. They could only dangle. For a few horrible moments he watched them try to sink hammer into the Wall or find footing. His horror grew as he tried to imagine what would happen next.

Ygritte knew, though. She turned her back to the Wall and looked at her feet when it became clear the men who had fallen weren't going to start climbing again. Jon looked at her for a few seconds, confused.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," she whispered but wouldn't meet his eye.

Jon looked back to the Wall.

His heart was in his throat. The man had been dangling for maybe five minutes now. Then suddenly— Jon didn't see what had happened— the two who had lost their footing were falling, falling from the Wall. A ragged groan came up from the men in the forest around them. Jon didn't know they had been watching as well.

He closed his eyes when they hit the ground.

Ygritte wanted to know who it was, so they joined a few others to go and look at the bodies. They had fallen where they had started; they had fallen to the tree. Jarl had been impaled cleanly through the chest. But another man had only taken a tree branch through the leg.

"Mercy," he croaked when he saw them. So a Thenn crushed his head in for him.

Jon looked to the rope that was still attached to both of them and saw where it had been cut. It took a moment to realize it had been cut by the third man, the one who was still above them, climbing the Wall. When he realized it, he felt a bit ill. But what choice did they have?

It was an hour or two until they were due to start climbing. Jon wished they hadn't gone to see who had fallen, and he could tell from Ygritte's she felt the same.

And then, like no time had passed at all, Styr was gathering the second wave to him to being their ascent. Unlike Jarl's raiders, the second wave were tied together in groups of two or three instead of organized groups of four. Some were climbing alone, with nothing to hold them to the Wall but stakes, and nothing to pull them down but gravity.

Jon and Ygritte were tied together, and he at least felt relief that she would not cut him loose, and he would not cut her loose either. And best of all, this did not even need to be said between them. Awkwardly, they began to climb upwards. Jarl was right, the stone was full of ledges, and the ice was tricky to climb.

It seemed to go at once very quick and at once very slow.

It was largely unremarkable, boring work. Well, Jon thought, it was boring... until it wasn't.

They were three quarters up the Wall when they heard a scream below them. Jon dug his hammer in, cast an eye to the stakes, then Ygritte to his left, and then looked. Immediately he wished he hadn't.

The height wad dizzying, and there was a sharp pang in his head... but only for a moment, then it cleared, and he felt better than before. He could understand why his ancestors had craved this height. It was amazing. A fierce feeling burned in him for a moment, and he smiled in something like relief.

His eyes found below who had screamed... although they were just a thin, small splat of red below. Ygritte had looked as well, but while seeing the ground had made Jon feel emboldened, it seemed to have done her no favors. She looked at him and they met eyes. Sure of himself, and sure he would not fall now, he smiled at her. She managed to smile back, but he could see she didn't feel great.

But Jon did. He was no Stark after all, though their blood ran through him. He was a Targaryen. A dragon. And dragons did not die when they fell. They flew.

Jon pulled his hammer out, struck in higher, and began to climb again, lock step with Ygritte. He would not let her fall, either. His heart soared.

Finally, they reached the top. It was near midnight, and while the moon was full it was accompanied by stars. He was had gotten there a minute or so before Ygritte and he shouted encouragement to her as he hammered a stake into the top of the Wall to hold her should she fall now. When she was close enough, he secured his footing and reached down to grab her shoulder. Easily he hauled her up, and together they collapsed onto the widest section of the Wall. It was easily six or seven feet, but it did not feel like much when you knew how far you had to fall.

"I almost fell," Ygritte said, trembling. "Twice. Thrice. The Wall was trying t' shake me off, I could feel it." One of the tears in her eyes broke free and trickled slowly down her cheek.

This sobered Jon, who had been grinning. "The worst is behind us. Don't be frightened." He tried to put his arm around her.

But she wanted no comfort, and she slammed the heel of her hand into his chest, knocking him back a few steps. "I wasn't frightened. You know nothing, Jon Snow."

"Why are you crying then?" Jon was bewildered. So far as girls went, he had only ever seen Sansa cry, but Ygritte was more like Arya than Sansa and her tears caught him unawares.

"Not for fear! I'm crying because we never found the Horn of Winter. We opened half a hundred graves and let all those shades loose in the world, and never found the Horn to bring this cold thing down!"

There was a long moment. She had stopped crying. Jon tried to lighten the situation and said hopefully, "Well it is made of ice."

Again, she said, "You know nothing, Jon Snow." She fixed him with a flat, tired stare. "This Wall is made o' blood."

When he took her in his arms then she allowed him, and they stood on top of the Wall together. Jon looked out over it back the way they had come, then he looked up at the sky. He thought of the man impaled on the tree, of Jarl and of the two who had fallen during his climb. He thought of those smears of blood and wondered if the Wall had had its fill tonight.

Somehow, he thought it hadn't.

But it wasn't have his blood. Or Ygritte's. And that was enough for tonight.