A Wolf with a coat of Darkness – chapter 5

I do not own ASoIF/GoT or Warcaft/WoW

Rated M for everything wrong with the Cult of the Damned and the Scourge (including but not limited to cannibalism, human experimentation, murder, rape, slavery, torture, sadism)

Sansa and Myranda spent the noon hours writing letters in the ash before the fireplace, eventually getting up as the fire began to die. Learning letters was hard, the two having gotten through all of them, though the little student barely remembered half. Sansa herself was unsure how to exactly teach. They wrote down, said it aloud and then had Myranda do it by herself. The girl in turn struggled. The process was slow, painful even. The red-head tried to think back of on her time when she learned her letters, but truth be told, she barely had any memory of it. She always…kinda…knew them. She had the occasional fuzzy memory pop up of her standing over books and papers with her septa or mother over her.

Those memories brough tears to her eyes, the sorrowful drops running down her face and falling into the ash. Was her family searching for her, missing her? Surely, they must! Surely…they must…

Her mind wandered. Never would have she imagined that she would miss Winterfel. Sansa Stark, the girl dreaming of southern sun and noble knights. Of honorable court and endless feasts. Of tourneys and glory! That girl, now, found herself wanting one thing. To be back in her room, watching the snow fall out of the window as the fire cracked in the hearth, the knowledge that her family were there, with her. The knowledge that there were no hidden…cults. No undead armies. No horrors beyond imagining.

She shivered as the fire died, the last crack of the wood dispelling the warm memories, returning her to the bleak reality. The cold, old, sparse room. The heavy rain outside. The school of heresy beyond.

Wiping her face with her oversized sleeves, she got up from her kneeling position on the ground. She patted down her legs, trying to get blood flowing into her stiff limbs from how long she was kneeling. Sansa had no way to tell the time, especially with how dark was outside the whole morning. Yet, she found she cannot continue studying, reading the book right after teaching letters. The two of them moved to the bed and collapsed on it. Embracing each other, dream quickly overtook them as the rain drops pounded the thatched roof above them.

When they awoke to silence, it was still bright outside, the rain having stopped sometime during their nap. Sansa shivered as cold crept up her back, the two having fallen asleep without putting the blankets on. Getting up and wrapping her hands around herself, the red-head went to the window, looking out. The sky was still dark, still angry and a light mist blanketed the lake's far shore. Sitting down into one of the chairs with a heavy exhale, she picked up the blue book and for the longest of moments, she simply stood, looking at it. Snapping out of her daze when Myranda sat opposite her, the little girl rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Sansa momentarily fiddled with the book before opening it, finding the beginning of the third chapter. She quickly cast a look at the side of the book. They had made a dent in it, but she doubted they would reach half by nightfall. Besides, this was no novel or love poems. This, they had to think through, they had to pay attention. They had to learn.

Sansa read through the afternoon, stopping only when the light inside became too low to continue. Casting a look through the window, she guessed it would be completely dark within an hour or so. And they were in a cold house with no wood or even candles.

Sighing heavily, she put the book down onto the table. They had almost reached half of it, but things were progressively getting more complicated. Arcane crystals, rune integration, drawing energy, ambient energy. Magi vs sorcery. Advantages and disadvantages of different conduits.

Looking up, she saw Myranda let out a yawn before slumping and clutching her stomach as it rumbled out. The sound brough up her own feelings of hunger. Sansa wanted to avoid going to the fortress if possible and briefly considered starving through the night, but a painful squeeze in her lower midsection made up her mind instead. Wordlessly, the two exited the house and from the corner of her eyes she saw Myranda almost skipping.

'We better get a move on.' Sansa though to herself as she saw the thin red strip of the setting sun opposed the dark sky, the sun piercing the clouds for barely a moment, gently caressing her skin with much-needed warmth. When it finally disappeared below the horizon and twilight set in, with reluctance Sansa pulled up her hood and mask.

As they entered through the archway, the red-head momentarily felt self-conscious of her exposed thighs. And yet, her hunger pressed her on. Thankfully, the food building was on the lowest, widest level. Unfortunately, there were a lot of cultists mulling around. With sadness, she noted that not one or two were of Myranda's age, or atleast appeared so. A lot of people mulled around without their hoods or masks down, the masked ones been a minority. For a brief moment, everything almost seemed…normal. It reminded her of Winter town in the summer. The muddy streets, the dark sky. How there were people talking, but most preferred to keep to themselves.

Yet that illusion was shattered at a closer look. No small part of the cultists bore skulls on their waists. Sometimes…they were not even skulls. Lifeless eyes from scream-locked faces more than once met her gaze. She felt her gaze also wonder to several female cultists that were much, much more exposed compared to her. The side cuts of what she now knew to a leotard were much high up, while additional pieces of fabric were missing as well, mainly around the breasts, giving the surrounding people either an upper, lower or side view of their assets.

Swallowing hard as she watched one such woman and a man disappear into a building, she focused her gaze forward, back towards her destination. Sansa noted with happiness that a lot of people were exiting and barely anyone was entering. In the narrow entryway, she inevitably bumped into the outflow of people exiting. As squeezed through the doorway, the girl felt a hand on her stomach, freezing her in place in shock and terror, Myranda almost running into her from behind.

The offensive hand was gone almost as soon as it had come, but the feeling remained. A disgusting, slimy, violated feeling. Her own hands shot up to her midriff, Sansa cradling herself as she resumed her movement forth. Never before had she been touched there, by anyone. Maybe her mother once or twice and when she was getting measured for new gowns, but beyond that, never. She wanted to scream, to fight, to find that man and put him in his place. Her mouth opened and closed, both due to her now labored breathing as well as her desire to say something, only for the words to dissipate.

A voice in her head kept telling her this was not the place for this, that no one would pay her any heed. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stopped, having moved to the left once inside as to not block the door, her back now leaning against the wall in desperate support. Myranda stood infront of her, looking at her questioningly, the little girl having not seen what had happened.

"Someone touched me." Myranda gave her a slightly confused look. They had passed through a narrow doorway. Bumping into someone's shoulder was not unexpected. Wiping her tears away, Sansa tried to calm her breathing.

"I am fine. Let us get something to eat." She mumbled as she looked away from her friend's eyes.

Wordlessly, they both moved to the table with the food and each picked up what they wanted. Sansa chose what she though to be onion soup and a few pieces of bread. She did not see what her companion picked, her head been down the whole time. Without waiting to see if Myranda was ready, Sansa moved to a table, thankfully, once again the hall was almost empty. She sat in a corner, her back to the wall. As she sat down, her hand idly once again moved across her midriff, almost as if to make sure it was still there, still alright 'But I am not alright!' she screamed in her head.

Her head still bowed, she did not bother lowering her hood, only her mask. With small spoonfuls, she began to eat, the strong taste soothing her, if only a little. Every now and then, she would still feel the offending hand, her free arm swiftly shooting up to her stomach only to discover it free, undisturbed. She vaguely noted Myranda sitting down opposite her, her face and hair fully visible.

"Are you alright?" she heard her asking after some time. Raising her head, she saw the little girl looking at her with concern, her food untouched. Sansa wanted to scream out, yet instead:

"Yes." She said, fixing her posture, straightening up. Her hands moving to her hood, pushing it back down exposing her bright red hair. Myranda looked at her for another few moments before digging into her food. With her no longer looking at her, Sansa's shoulder relaxed, her posture sagging a little. As her spoon was about to be filled with more soup, her friends' voice stopped it.

"Thank you." It was barely a mumble and it was definitely with a full mouth, but the red-head heard it nonetheless.

"What?" she asked looking at Myranda whose head was bowed, the girl playing with her food now.

"…thank you." She repeated. "I never sai-I mean, you di-…" the girl stumbled with her words, starting and stopping. As Sansa's curiosity peaked, her blue eyes tried to find the girl's own brown ones.

"You can tell me everything." She tried to reassure her. Myranda looked up at her for a moment before turning away.

"I should be…I don't know what I would be now if it wasn't for you and for…for…granny…" the girl nearly sobbed, her voice hitching.

"I don't want to do this… any of it… "she said in defeat, looking back down at the food. "I wonder if it would not be better if I was dead like mother and father… "

Looking up towards Sansa, there were tears running down her cheeks.

"I don't want to die… but I…but I…"

"I know. Me too." Sansa reached over and grasped her hand, squeezing hard, Myranda's other hand coming to rest above hers. "We will not die. We will get through this and one day, we will go home."

Choking down a sob, Myranda asked:

"Where is home?" and for a moment Sansa wondered. Where was home? Myranda's parents were dead, probably her entire family as well. Winterfel was… Sansa did not know. Where was home?

"Wherever we want it to be. We will get out of here and I will try to find my way home and you can always come with me."

"Thank you." Myranda said again. Thank you for…this… and for helping me study…and for teaching me letters… thank you." Sansa squeezed once again.

"We are in this together. And we will make it out!" she declared before a small smile fell on her features. "Now eat up. The less time we spent here, the better!" Myranda in turn only nodded.

Not long after, they found themselves along the now familiar path along the lakeshore, the girls just barely been able to see. They made a note that tomorrow they should dine earlier to avoid this darkness. As they approached the house, they saw a silhouette that made them freeze in their place.

A ghoul waited at the door.

With sharp head movements, the ghouls looked at them, occasionally, tilting its head one way or the other. When it did nothing, Myranda moved forth, been the first to snap out of her shock and fear. Following suit with much smaller steps, Sansa tried to get over her fear of ghouls, her blue eyes never leaving the rotting form at their door.

The closer they got, the more they were able to see despite the darkness. They saw that it carried quite a few pieces of wood on its shoulders, as well as surprisingly intact pouch on its waist. As they approached, the ghoul never stopped following them with its head. When they were almost next to it, just as they were about to stop, the ghoul moved aside, allowing them entry. Myranda was first to open the door and enter, stopping a few steps inside and looking back out. In turn, Sansa entered much more slowly, her back to the wall the entire time. When they were both finally in and just when they were about to close the door and possibly barricade it, the ghoul moved in sharp movements, startling them.

In one motion, it dumped all the wood at the doorway, the two bundled tied together with string. One bundle of plenty of small sticks and twigs, another of larger logs. Straightening up, the ghoul began to rummage within its pouch and with some effort, it managed to pull out two candles, extending its arm toward the two girls.

With extreme hesitation, Sansa reached out and taking great care to not touch the flesh of the ghoul, she took the candles in hand. As her hand retracted back to her side, the red-head looked between the candles and the ghoul. The creature stood for a few more moments, looking at them before wordlessly turning away and walking down the road towards the fortress.

Myranda was again the first to snap out of it, quickly taking the bundle with the smaller sticks before moving to the hearth and within the dim light of the room, she tried to start the fire. Wondering what had just happened, Sansa nevertheless moved the larger bundle from the doorway, but left the door open to allow what little light there was outside to enter.

For some time, the only light within the room were the occasional sparks as Myranda tried to start the fire. Yet within a few moments, a soft light appeared. Much of the room remained dark as Sansa closed the door before been drawn to the fireplace. Towards the warmth and light. The fire grew in strength, the two of them deciding not to waste too much of the wood, for they would be going to bed soon. Once it reached its proper size, Myranda added two larger logs and both got up, leaving it alone.

In the dim light, Myranda began to fiddle with the locks that held the cloak and hood in place before Sansa moved in to assist her. Even to her, it took some time to release the two pieces of cloth from one another. Myranda was the first to take of her boots before warming her toes on the fire and once deciding they were sufficiently warm, she made a dash for the bed, slipping of her dress-robe along the way before diving under the covers. While laughing at first at her friend's antics, when Sansa began to undress for bed, she paused. Just how was she supposed to sleep? They had taken everything! With embarrassment, she remembered she did not even have underwear. Thinking it over and over again, she was unable to produce a solution. Eventually, she removed the socks and the detached sleeves, remaining only into her hated piece of cloth – the leotard. Warming for a final time by the fire, she too moved below the covers of the bed.

Sleep did not claim her instantly, the girl observing the light slowly dim within the room as her mind raced, the cracking of the dying flames been her only companion. There were no sounds of the night. No birds, no wind, no people… nothing. Complete silence. And this uncomfortable, overbearing, loud silence unfortunately left plenty of space for her thoughts to fill.

From small things and her current discomfort. The cold of her toes and the snagging of her leotard as she constantly turned within the bed. Oh, how, she hated it and having to constantly adjust it around her rear. Even whores would not wear this! With her constant turning and tossing, the accursed piece of cloth moved from its 'intended' position as well, entering places it was not supposed to, but the final straw came when it somehow tightened around her neck. It was tight there to begin with, but having twisted to one side from all the turning, it was now borderline choking her.

Filled with anger, she got up from the bed and nearly tore the piece off of herself. With the freedom of her neck and body, her mind also returned to her, telling her that she now stood naked in the middle of the room.

Shame quickly overfilled her as she dashed beneath the covers anew, bringing them up to her chin. The previous discomfort of the tight clothing was now replaced with the discomfort of been naked beneath the covers, yet that lasted for only a few moments or so before she began to relax.

A sudden wave of tiredness hit her and sleep quickly claimed her as darkness reclaimed the room.

The next day was mostly uneventful.

In the morning, Sansa remained in bed for the longest of time, not wanting to get up and reveal her nakedness. When she eventually got up, Myranda had already been up for a long time, preparing a new fire, but not starting it. As Sansa bend down to pick up her discarded clothes on the floor, a slap resonated across the room as Myranda stood behind her, grinning ear-to-ear at the red-head, having delivered a red hand print to her behind.

So in shock was Sansa that she stood looking at the girl without moving for the longest of time before in anger giving chase, managing to catch her not long after and deliver her own revenge, though the effect was greatly lessened with Myranda having already fully dressed herself.

Nevertheless, they both laughed, probably for the first time in days and for that single moment, the world was simple.

After dressing herself, the two settled down into the chairs to read another chapter or two from the book before heading to get breakfast. On purpose, they waited until later to get food if only to avoid the crowds, to avoid the cultists. On their return from breakfast, Sansa noted with some inner dread how they no longer paid any attention to the skeletons along the lake shore, acting as sentinels. They were becoming accustomed to it. With occasional breaks, they spent the whole day learning, both arcane and letters before heading to early dinner in what they imagined to be the late afternoon, once again hoping to avoid the crowds.

They returned to the house with maybe an hour of sunlight left, reading one final chapter before putting the book down with maybe a quarter of it remaining at most. As night reclaimed the sky, they lit both the fire and the candles, the delivery ghouls bringing new wood and candles just as they were starting up the flames.

They spent the evening talking to one another, trying to get to know each other. Myranda spoke of her village, of running barefoot in the woods and playing with chickens. Of simple, yet delicious foods and seemingly endless summers by the river trying to catch fish barehand.

In turn, Sansa spoke of her family, of her mother and father, of her many siblings. Of the great Winterfel with warm walls even in winter. Of the ancient crypts and endless Wolfs Wood. Of the crisp northern air in the morning that she never appreciated and now sorely missed.

The trio of friendly cultists came to the house for a few minutes of so. They asked questions about them, seemingly even genuinely worried. The ever-gruff Marcus even brough them two dark-green pillows, waving aside their thanks. Leopold grumbled at no one having explained to the two the importance of the masks, saying that they served to protect them from all the pestilences and diseases in the air. He advices the two to never remove them once inside the school.

Sansa tried to speak with Beatrice about her clothing problem or lack thereof, but the blond laughed it off with a pity smile before gesturing to herself, wearing practically the same thing only with the sleeves and leotard been one thing and her behind covered with a long cloak.

"You'll only get underwear if you get a robe and you will only get a robe if you are a high-enough rank. Your friend is the exception given how young she is." Feeling defeated, Sansa wondered just what debauched monsters ran this school.

That night, she did not even bother trying to sleep with the accursed cloth on her.

The third day was much like the second, the girls even managing to finish the book before noon, though there was one difference. The delivery ghoul this time in addition to its usual load also bore a note. A simple note.

'Report tomorrow morning to me for class assignment.
Feralda.'

With dread, Sansa realized that up to now, things were easy.

Tomorrow, they were entering hell.

All that clothing talk was addressing the elephant in the room. I mean, in the end of the day… this is how they are portrayed in game half the time, especially in art of Scholomance. And let us not even talk about half of the armors in WoW… I appreciate them greatly, but still :D

The real stuff starts next chapter.

Thank you for reading.