Jon was happy to see Edd and Grenn stumble back into Castle Black, he had thought they were long dead at this point. They had shared what was happening at Craster's Keep, what they had done with Ghost.
Jon knew he had to say something, had to make some effort to kill the mutineers, they knew too much, and hadn't any spine. They would be killed and tortured and give Mance all the information he wants.
He explained what had to be done to Ser Alliser, what it could mean if Mance knew he lied about their numbers, but still he didn't sanction it. He was frustrated, he wanted to do more but couldn't, and they were running out of time.
Debating with Sam was helpful, if only for the opportunity to vent. He could imagine what Verona would say, probably something along the lines of "What a fucking asshole." Sam was more polite about it.
After Verona had left, Janous had made remarks towards Gilly that had set him on edge, along with several others of the night's watch. They talked about having her go to Moles town, to be safer. Jon wasn't too sure about the decision but understood how Sam must be feeling at least.
There were raids getting closer and closer to Castle Black, which made Jon himself worried about a small group of three traveling south. They already said they were rarely on the roads, but wildlings didn't take roads either.
A boy, Olly his name was, had delivered the message to them. Part of him wanted to know if Ygritte was there, but he didn't dare ask. There was a pang of longing and hurt, but he had to push it down to more forward.
And as difficult as it was, he knew they couldn't afford to seek out the wildlings, it's what they wanted. It would weaken Castle Black the more brothers they lost leading up to Mance's forces beyond the Wall.
But seeing his friend's return, this was something they had to do, had to risk.
Edd and Grenn were able to join them that day, having time to catch up. Edd went right to what was on his mind.
"What's this about a girl falling from the sky? They can't be fucking serious. Tell me they're not fucking serious." Edd asks deadpan.
Jon half smiles in amusement, understanding the feeling well. It was Sam who answered though.
"It is true. She was quite nice, she and Gilly got on, and she had such stories! About ships that could fly, buildings taller than the Wall! I've been trying to draw something out about the ships she mentioned, something to send to the Citadel perhaps. Her friends were alright, a bit gloomy. They retrieved her not long ago." Sam explained, sounding excited.
"Friends?... Fuck me…" Jon heard Edd sigh, not even managing a quip about Sam's incessant need for knowledge.
"What does it mean? Something like that happening?" Grenn asked, concerned.
What did it mean? Jon hadn't a clue. It seemed like an accident, without purpose or reason. But others might use their presence as a sign. Meeting them though, it didn't seem that way at all.
"I think it was an accident, their coming here. They weren't trying to show up or anything." Jon tells him.
They looked concerned though. Like most people did when Verona first arrived, and when they heard of the Others further south.
More recruits showed up soon after, giving Jon more opportunity to train them. Grenn helping, he had gotten a lot better as time went on, it made Jon proud to see his progress. He called up two recruits to fight. The man with black hair and beard easily won, knocking his opponent out.
"You could have gone easy on him." Jon tells him, looking at the man on the ground.
"Wouldn't have learned anything that way." The man responded simply.
It wasn't long before Thorne made his way down to the courtyard.
"Lord Snow. What is it you think you're doing?"
"Training some new recruits Ser Alliser." Jon tells him.
"That's not your job is it? You're not a ranger, you're a steward. Go find a chamber pot to empty." Ser Alliser sneers at him as he says it.
Jon's anger grew, how could he not see what he was doing was necessary? He was doing all he could to help his brother's, but still he was treated like a threat by this man. Jon took a step forward in anger, meeting him with a scowl of his own.
"Go on. Do it. You're a traitor's bastard. Give me an excuse." Ser Alliser dared him.
He wasn't worth it. Not worth arguing with. He'd never get on with him, but he won't give him the satisfaction in seeing him snap. He backs away.
He puts his things back where the training equipment was kept. The man he just witnessed knock the other to the ground decided to join him. Locke, his name was. From further south, he learned why he was at Castle Black, seemed a decent man.
He also had more stories of the people who fell. The main group. They sung songs, but didn't give much information at all. They were secretive, and people were growing more suspicious that they already were apparently. He told stories of King's Landing being in turmoil by their presence, not sure how to handle what had happened.
That was unfortunate to hear. Jon hoped Verona wouldn't find out, she would feel responsible somehow, he was sure. It was interesting to know her own group was missing music as well. He wondered what they chose to sing.
Locke asked about the Blue Lady that was here, the others saying he traveled with her, beyond the Wall. What they said about her, he asked if it was true. Jon wasn't sure if he should confirm it or not, he had misgivings after telling the high table anyway. But there was something he wanted to know first.
"You just got here. You already heard about her?" Jon asked curiously.
Locke gazed at him for a moment before responding.
"Some lords know of her, won't be long until more people do too."
That… probably wasn't good. He knew how northerners could be to people not from the north, or Westeros itself. What could he do though? He could worry but it wouldn't change things. It just added to his growing frustration.
Locke could see his concern on his face and stored the information away in his head.
"When did she leave?" Locke asked.
"Not long ago. Less than a week." Jon told him.
"Hmm. Sorry I missed her. Heard she had blue hair." Locke says easily enough, not sounding concerned he missed the opportunity.
He still had a chance to find out about Bran and Rickon Stark. He would focus on that.
"Aye. She did." Jon mutters before walking away.
Not long after, Ser Alliser gave him leave to go north of the Wall, and take care of the mutineers at Craster's Keep. He reminded his brother's who Lord Commander Mormont was to them. How he deserved better. Even Locke was moved by his magnanimous words.
But Locke had other reasons for joining him. He overheard part of his conversation with Sam, he knew he had to take this chance to find the boys.
They left the next day.
Barrowton had never been the most powerful stronghold in the north, or the most populous, but they had long traditions, like any ancient family. Wood carvings were seen through the city and decorated the mostly wooden walls. The houses wrapped around the hill in the center of the city, where the central keep was located. The stronghold of House Dustin, for centuries past, and centuries to come.
There were four gates into the city, east west, north and south. Though only the northern gate was open at all times these days. A way of keeping track of how many visitors entered. Many people came to Barrowton now, a new inn had been able to open because of it.
The plains and small hills stretched for a long time around the city, along with a river on the east side. The forest could barely be seen when looking east, but people looked in that direction a lot lately.
When the other worlders were there, they stuck to the lower sections mostly. Where the inns were, as well as the blacksmith. Occasionally going up a level to the main market.
They didn't have much to sell anymore, but sometimes they would bring things they made, sometimes drawings or carvings of places they were from. Never cities though. Lothor always found a buyer for them eventually, these curiosities were one of a kind after all.
It became an unspoken agreement that the camp the other worlder's made should be left alone, they would go to town when they needed. Only the Maesters of the Citadel would visit them, sometimes staying for days at a time. But rumor had it they were sharing secrets and shouldn't be interrupted.
For now the Citadel group was in town, sending some ravens to Old Town, and compiling their notes together. Five Maesters were in the group itself, each with an assistant to help them.
They planned on sending some people back to the Citadel to deliver their notes, but deciding who would leave was difficult. Not one of them wanted to leave yet, the people were just starting to tell them more about the technical side of things.
For months they had been having philosophical debates, a run around to avoid talking in specifics. They didn't mind though, their cautiousness was respectable, given their situation. They had been through a war of their own, but were reluctant to give details of any kind. Sometimes they spoke of older things, that they had in common, but recent history seemed to haunt them.
But the last few visits had been… different. Some of them truly loosing hope they would ever return. Something had them on edge, but it wasn't clear what.
A new discussion began on the moral dilemma of explaining technology to people who haven't created it themselves, how destructive giving weapons to people can be. When told not all technology is a weapon, they were told everything can be a weapon, to the wrong people.
It was an interesting and promising back and forth. The most senior Maester there, Gerrad Stally, thought that this could mean actual explanations to how their machines work. An exciting breakthrough! They first had to sort out their paperwork, before getting back to visit them properly.
Before that though, Lord Dustin had received another raven from the night's watch, they were summoned to the keep at the top of the hill.
There was another in the north, a lady of theirs, who had unnatural hair and supposed but unproved powers. They had been questioned about their knowledge of this lady, but they were as surprised as they were. A few days after, they received a raven of their own.
From Maester Aemon himself, at Castle Black. It held more information about the lady herself, but less about her world than the raven Lord Dustin had gotten. She was asking for her people to receive her, wanting to make sure they survived and return home with them. Unable to travel due to her lack of vision.
They certainly had a lot to talk about when they went back. Certainly, this is the reason four of them were missing. They had already headed north.
It was unfortunate they didn't tell them; they could have helped them. Maesters were respected throughout the seven kingdoms well enough, they could have hidden them if they wanted to be discrete.
Not only did they receive that news, they had received a message from Stannis Baratheon. It was tempting to open the letter to see what he wanted but, Maester Gerrad decided to respect their privacy.
They ended up having two assistants go back to Old Town and sent for more Maesters to return. There was so much they could learn, a whole other world and history. It should be preserved somehow, this historic, impossible situation that has happened.
They parted from the city that morning to visit the people in the woods.
"You should know Lord Bolton, that your presence isn't welcome here. No true northern lord would welcome you after what you did to our King. And no southern declaration can change that." Lord Dustin declared coldly.
The nerve he had, requesting to be permitted into the city, to be welcomed as an honored guest, as Warden of the North.
He had only a single small company of men with him it appeared. But still, Roose didn't look perturbed in the least. Staying calm and continuing smoothly.
"Then it would be a shame if your keep burned to the ground. I've instructed my men that if they do not see me entering the city, to start with your home first." Lord Bolton gaze was cold, and challenging.
Lord Dustin knew what he was implying. His men were already in town, probably in a guise as a visitor they had so often now. Even though most of their buildings had been worked on over the years, to prevent fires from occurring, a deliberate flame would not protect them. He needed to find out who these men where.
Their own forces had been sent south long ago, leaving the bare minimum to guard the city walls. Perhaps 50 were there now, with more able citizens that could fight if called upon. But their men were butchered at the red wedding, and so far, none yet had returned.
Lord Dustin knew what this man was capable of. He had to think of the people of the city first and foremost. He begrudgingly let him enter, going back to the main hall to converse without the people hearing.
The old keep was often changed and added to, since it wasn't made of stone like most others were. It had sections with different styles of different ages past. A history carved in the wood itself. There was a small courtyard inside, where a weirwood tree grew. As long as it stood, they would have protection. Only two fires in history reached its walls, but the old gods favored them, and neither was that damaging.
The hall had a fireplace, lined in stone, which cackled warmly behind where lord Dustin sat, waiting for his unwelcome guest to get to his purpose here. Some other candles were lit, aiding the light in the room as the sun waned in the sky.
"Are you aware, Lord Dustin, that you have been harboring outlaws?" Bolton began.
Lord Dustin's eyes narrowed, but he gave no response.
"These people you allow into your city, are an affront to nature. They don't belong in the north, and they don't belong in this world. They're more dangerous than you know." Lord Bolton continues, watching as the Lord he was speaking to frowned as if insulted.
"I would not allow them entry if they were dangerous. I've been assured by a group from the Citadel, and by the captain of these people, that they will not do us harm. They've been here for over a year and have kept that promise. Which makes them more honorable than you." Lord Dustin sneers, still showing contempt openly.
"I'm not here to debate my actions or justify myself to a lesser lord in the north. My legitimacy is not determined by you. But I assure you, I will not forget your words in the future." He pauses meaningfully, letting the threat sink in, before continuing.
"No. I'm here to find out, how much these people trust you. And which people they trust most in this city. It's high time they're taken care of."
"… even if I wanted to help you, how could you think that's a good idea? Have you not heard of the other one that's at the wall? It's the first time I've heard their numbers… if something happens to their people, how can you be sure they won't attack us?"
"The woman is being taken care of. And I've been assured that they are stuck here. With no way for their people to locate them. They may claim to be trying to return, but they are not. They are simply biding their time."
"Then why would I help a traitor, who killed his own King?" Lord Dustin challenged.
"Because, Lord Dustin, you should really keep a better eye on your own daughter." Lord Bolton explained.
The house Dustin men all started drawing their weapons, the Bolton men drawing theirs in response. Lord Dustin stood, looking alarmed.
"It seems the threat of burning the city to the ground isn't enough for you. I sent my men in ahead of me, and they found her unprotected. She has dark brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a plain grey dress. She was playing with the common children near the market square. My men have her with them. I did hope nothing would have to happen to her but, I get the impression you might need some persuading."
This vicious fucker, how dare this man come here and do this? Lord Dustin thought.
His daughter, his Annara, who resembled her mother so much, his last reminder of her. She often ran about the city, not bothering to have people with her. But why would she? This was her home, it had always been safe for her.
Lord Dustin's blood boiled in anger, but he was afraid as well. She was only twelve years old, but even at that young age he knew what men were capable of. And he knew this man in front of him, was not just words. Still the anger in him demanded he do something.
"You fucking cunt. Give her back, and I won't have my men slaughter you were you stand!"
"If they don't see me before nightfall, I've given them leave to do as they pleased. You think you'll have time to find her?" Lord Bolton challenged, not looking phased.
Lord Dustin's hand shook, fear and anger mixing inside of him. He looked down defeated, he couldn't allow his daughter to be hurt. He signaled his men to put their weapons away.
"So, Lord Dustin. You agree to help me, and make sure none of your own people are killed, and allow us to take care of unnatural people, who aren't your own, and have allegiance to no one?" Lord Bolton asks for clarification, sounding condescending.
"You must leave when after I give you the information you want. And return my daughter to me, unharmed." Lord Dustin demands.
"We'll leave when they are taken care of. And not before." Lord Bolton responds firmly.
Lord Dustin sits slowly and pauses considering before continuing.
"They aren't close with my house, or the other lords here. They stay in the lower part of town, or the market. They trade with a merchant named Lothor. And stay at the inn by the east gate. Only three or four are here at a time, and never for long. Their camp it to the east, about a half days ride. The Maesters are the only people they allow to stay."
Lord Bolton considers this carefully, and nods to himself. He already had an idea for a plan, this could work out for them.
"What exactly are you planning on doing?" Lord Dustin asks, brows furrowed.
"If you are able to get them all here at once, I'll make sure you're rewarded accordingly. That includes returning your daughter to you, unharmed." Lord Bolton responds instead of explaining.
By the way Lord Dustin was looking at him, it seemed he understood the idea. It made his skin crawl to think it would happen within his walls, but he had to think of his daughter. He would order his men to search the town tonight, to find her and make sure she was safe. Once she was back, he would expel this man from his city, he was clearly a disease.
For now though… he would have to go along.
He nodded once in response, staring daggers in the man's back as he walked out of his hall. His hands fisted in anger.
Lord Bolton had managed to lose the people following him easily enough. They really weren't practiced in subtly here it seemed. When he entered the house his men had secured, he saw the girl bound in the corner. He gaze scared yet defiant.
He didn't even know her name. But it didn't matter.
"Lock her in room somewhere, she's done her part." He tells his men.
Not long after, another man enters. He's not in the Bolton's attire but he quickly identifies himself. They had detained the Maesters on their way to the Other's camp. But they didn't want to draw suspicion, so they were being kept outside of the city.
He'd have to find a way to get them inside then. But that was a problem for later.
He wanted to find this merchant that Lord Dustin had mentioned. He could be useful.
Captain Leonard didn't go to town as often as some of the others, but he felt the need to go with the group this time. They were still in the inn but he wanted to check around. After hearing his crew tell him about the shift in perception from some of the higher-ranking members in the town, he was curious.
Having Lord Dustin offer his own home up to all of them was even more so. In all the time they've been there, never had he offered them all to be welcome. It was the general understanding that only a few should be here at a time.
Perhaps he should look for the Citadel group. They had mentioned potentially sending people back to gather more members and sending what they had back with someone was safer than transporting it another way.
He hadn't heard any other updates but, he felt that by now something should be known about the attack on their camp. If it was being kept secret, for whatever reason, why? Could it be used to turn people against them?
He thought he was being careful in avoiding that. It didn't look like people here knew. Walking up to where he knew the Citadel members were staying, newcomers to the city were gawking. Whispering to other townsfolk he had met, wide eyed in disbelief.
He understood, sort of. It was easier pretending to be a celebrity than in this alternate world. Not many had the courage to approach, but if they did it was always entertaining. Sometimes he winked at them to see them sputter about.
Before he could reach his destination, he felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him away from the street. He turned quickly, hand going to his hip where he had a concealed weapon, but saw Lothor. He paused confused, but Lothor continued to guide him towards a side street.
"What - "
"The Bolton's are here." Lothor interrupts quickly, looking over his shoulder and speaking in a hushed voice.
Leonard's surprise was visible, as well as alarm. His gaze sharpened and he looked around slowly. He nodded for Lothor to continue.
"They came to talk to me the other day, they wanted to get you all here in town, all at once. I think Lord Dustin knows but I'm not sure who else." Lothor continues sounding urgent.
Well that put things into perspective. Their first attack didn't work, or was just a test of their defenses and capabilities, and so now it was on to plan b for them. Captain Leonard's face darkened, they were in town, disguised or hiding, they might strike if they think he's suspicious.
Lothor was taking a risk even telling him this. He heard people approaching from behind him, he held a finger to his mouth for Lothor to see.
"Good day, Captain." Lord Dustin's voice greeted him.
He steeled his face before breaking out in a friendly smile and turns to greet the man.
"Good day Lord Dustin. It's nice to be back here, it's been too long." Leonard states warmly.
Lord Dustin seems suspicious though, glancing at Lothor behind him. Well, he needed to do something about that.
"I was just, thanking my good friend Lothor here. He's been very welcoming to us, it's almost like home now. Perhaps I'll bring my crew into town and we should celebrate, to our friendship with Barrowton!" He says, smiling charmingly.
Lord Dustin raises his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't thought it would be so easy… but they were close with Lothor, and if he did help as Lord Bolton believed, perhaps it was possible. He feels guilt, for allowing this to happen within his city. But they still had his daughter, his sweet and headstrong Annara. He had to do this for her, for his city and all the people in it. These people weren't his. He had to protect his own.
"For now though, I should rejoin my men. If you'll excuse me my lord." He states formally, the way the upper-class liked to be addressed.
He turned to Lothor before he goes and gives a wink. "You're a good man." He claps him on the shoulder before leaving.
He finds his men still at the inn, just ordered some drinks. So early in the day too… but no matter, they would be leaving. Right fucking now. But he couldn't make it seem like it was urgent. Who knew who was watching. Even looking around the room carefully, he wasn't sure who could be one of the Bolton's men. There were many who stared at them anyway.
"Sun's getting low. Maybe we should get back home." He says lowly when he sits by them.
He sees them tense a bit, but continue their drinks, acting normally as possible. Only one gets up with him to get their things that they had already put upstairs. He gives him a curious look when they're alone.
"We're getting the fuck outta here. Go get as much food and supplies as you can, I don't know when we'll be back. Meet me and the others by the east gate, got it?"
He gets a quick nod, and he leaves quickly.
Back at camp, he shared the news with everyone. Many wanted to go back, guns blazing and take them out. The city obviously wasn't safe with those backstabbing murders there. And they wouldn't be safe with them close by.
Lothor could be in danger for telling him. Everyone had grown fond of the man, and his family since they've been there. But he couldn't take the risk. If all went well, Laureen and Everett should have found out something about survivors in the north. Maybe they found people already. Maybe they found her. He had to wait, to measure their actions.
As much as it pained him, he couldn't afford to go back and protect the town, or Lothor. He had to think about his crew's wellbeing first and foremost. If they caused too much ruckus, it could paint a target on Everett and Laureen's backs.
No, they were staying here, actively patrolling, and not leaving for the foreseeable future.
Lord Bolton was not pleased, to say the least. He paced up and down in front of where Lord Dustin sat, surrounded by Bolton men. After the others had been in town a few times, after making sure he was keeping his word, they just stopped showing up.
Someone had to have warned them. The Maester's were being held as well, much to their chagrin. He had taken what they had on those people, but it wasn't much at all. It was quite interesting to read the letter from Stannis Baratheon, however.
It seemed that he wanted the Lady Rendell on his side, and the rest of her people to follow him. That wouldn't do at all. He should tell the Lannister's what Stannis is up to, and make sure the fallen people don't find out they might have a powerful ally. Better that they feel alone.
He had the guards around Lord Dustin killed when he walked in. The doors bared. His daughter was behind him, still bound in rope. His hands tensed on his chair, watching silently.
"I thought we had a deal. I thought that you would help me, and your daughter and city would be spared a horrific death?" Lord Bolton says coldly.
"I didn't break the deal. I didn't warn them or have anyone else warn them. Last I spoke with the Captain, he wanted to bring his crew here." Lord Dustin responded stiffly.
"Well," Bolton scoffed, "What am I to make of this then? They're suddenly clairvoyant? They've proven they aren't." He paces back and forth again.
He stops and signals to his men. One pulls out a knife and walks towards Annara.
"NO!"
His men hold Lord Dustin back, he yells at them to stop but Roose Bolton does not waver. He stares expectantly.
"It had to have been Lothor, he was talking with the Captain alone! It had to have been him!"
Roose Bolton hold up a hand, just before he was about to slice the girl's throat.
"There's still a way to get their trust, the Maesters are closer to them than anyone! You can use them, use them to get close and ambush them, if that's what you want!" Lord Dustin continues desperately.
Roose Bolton considers this. He had thought of using them to get the Others here, but they were proving to be tight lipped and hard to control. Perhaps now he didn't have a choice. But with them at their own camp, with their own weapons and gods knows what else up their sleeve?
What he needed was a way of finding out what they had, and how to either replicate it, take it, or negate it. Numbers could work, his bastard Ramsey was taking Moat Calin for him after all, it was only a matter of time until his full forces could travel north. But now that they were guarded… he didn't know what they were capable of.
Perhaps the Maesters would be better as reconnaissance, that way they weren't truly lying, but just doing what they've always done. Discovering new information.
He would visit them after the merchant in the market square. Perhaps they'll be more receptive when they realize he's not messing around. He couldn't let this go unpunished either, and though he couldn't just kill Lord Dustin, his hold on the north not secure enough to do that, he needed to send a message.
"Cut off two of her fingers." He tells the man next to Dustin's daughter.
Verona's POV:
It hadn't been that long since they left, but they were making good time. In the evenings I would try to ride by herself, with help from either Everett or Laureen guiding the horse for me. I was still tense, too tense and tipped to the side sometimes, but getting used to it at least.
I couldn't really see though, it was unnerving not being able to. Like flying was but even less to feel. But the horses were nice enough, I was worried they would try to throw me off when I was by herself, but they were both pretty chill.
It didn't hurt that I bribed them sometimes with scraps. Both Everett and Laureen had extra food with them all the time. They wouldn't touch a certain portion, and hunt for dinner usually instead of eating it.
It was something most people did in general, after the years of food shortages in recent memory. Being in the army was different though, it wasn't allowed, all food was carefully monitored. But now that they were here, the added security of having food was reassuring, even to me.
Maybe I would have been like that too, if I hadn't spent years in a cell, or chained to operating tables. I was never in charge of my own food source… it didn't serve me well out here, not knowing how to feed myself. Maybe I should ask them… but what would I even ask anyway, that's ridiculous.
We stopped at a tavern in a small town, one that Laureen had said they stopped at before. She suggested trying to find some hair dye for me… which was fine I guess, if they thought it would help them then it didn't matter.
I kept the hood up on her cloak, it was big enough it dropped in front of my face, but that was fine. I had heard some whispers, of people being creeped out by my eyes. Still, I wasn't sure how much others could see, if my hair was visible or not.
Both of my traveling companions are very cautions. And it wasn't just because of me, though that was another thing I noticed. They went out of their way sometimes to avoid startling me, walking on eggshells almost. It was almost thoughtful, but just served as a reminder at this point. It wasn't something I wanted to bring up though.
They were still on edge around strangers, that much was clear. I can't remember the last time I was really scared of someone though. What could people do to me really? Death didn't seem like it was that bad an option at the worst times.
And my drive to find people was pretty stilled right now, after all. I didn't need to anymore. I just felt lost.
I hadn't gotten the nerve to try practicing yet, as they asked. I was afraid.
Laureen was talking quietly to a man on the other side of the room, about hair dye. Apparently, it was something the brothel would have… He asked if they would stay the night, his offer still stood. Interesting, what offer? Laureen told him that they were undecided at the moment.
Walking through the town further made it clear they were unwelcome. I couldn't see the looks but judging from my companions growing unease and tenseness, they were probably being stared at. They decided not to stay the night…
There were light footsteps that seemed to follow them around town, but never close. They disappeared before they left though…
()()()
"You can't be serious Verona. You're mad at me? This son of a bitch tried to kill us!" Everett says loudly, gesturing at the man laying lifeless not five feet away.
They had set up camp for the night when Verona heard someone approaching. Someone that had been following them through the last small town they stopped at.
She tapped Laureen on the arm and pointed discreetly with her head. She heard Everett stand slowly and walk carefully to their bags. Not making a sudden movement.
The man leapt out, sword in hand, lunging at Laureen who was closest, but was interrupted by a large banging sound.
He fell, in shock, and held his leg. He tried to get away, scrambling back, started begging for mercy from them. He was terrified, and hungry, and was desperate enough to try his luck stealing from travelers with no weapons but the one crossbow, he went for her first.
But another shot rang out, silencing the man. That's when Verona started freaking out. Laureen backed away from her, telling her she needed to breath in a soft voice. She got a glare in return.
Verona was offended at their treatment sometimes. She wasn't going to hurt them! She was allowed to be upset! It didn't mean she would loose it though!
"He was scared, probably desperate and needed money or food! One man, coming after a group of three? He was hurt enough; you didn't need to kill him!" Verona continued, sounding upset.
"We couldn't let him get away either. We were told not to let people here know about our guns." Laureen pointed out.
"Don't hide behind your orders. You didn't need to use it. The guy's skin and bones, any one of us could have taken him with a knife, which I know you have! And what happened to getting swords and practicing? If you don't want to use guns, fine, I get that. But you still rely on them!" Verona points out.
"Oh give me a break. We haven't been through a place big enough to have a blacksmith yet anyway." Everett tells her, sounding exasperated but also not taking her seriously.
"You shouldn't have killed him. Gun or no gun. He was a fool and attacked, sure, but it was never going to work." Verona still persists, causing Everett to scoff.
"This is hostile territory Rendell. It isn't like we could arrest him, or hand him over to the authorities. Even if we did they would probably do the same. It's a harsh place we're in. No one here would bat an eye at defending themselves." Everett tells her.
"It isn't wartime anymore, its time to try something different. You really want to live the rest of your life like this? I don't!" She looks troubled, her brows pinched in frustration. "If someone asks for mercy, can't you at least let them speak? Figure out who they are? Can't you consider letting him go, at least do that?"
"I wouldn't think you would be so naive! You know what people are capable of. You can't just let everyone go, he could have come back with more people, sent others after us, any number of things. We can't take the risk." He punctuates the last statement by pausing in between each word, trying to make her understand.
"I don't want to go back to that mentality, this isn't a warzone for us! I don't want to forget myself, not again. I'm sick of this! I'm sick of people just accepting how things are, not trying anything different, just going along and thinking what you're doing is justified. Maybe he was starving, trying to get food for his family, or maybe he was just insane. But you don't know. He's not a soldier we're facing, he's just a person. We can listen. If more people actually questioned what was going on, maybe we wouldn't have become what we were."
They were glaring at each other now, Everett gritting his teeth in frustration. He almost snapped at her to say stop with the 'we' shit. But maybe that was too far.
Everett scoffs and shakes his head angrily. "That's bullshit, this isn't about that. If Laureen had shot him in the head with her crossbow, you wouldn't say a word. Because it was self-defense. Nothing wrong with that right? But let's just go ahead with your plan then, as a hypothetical." He starts to sound mocking now.
"I shot him in the leg, he begs for his life, I spare him. He's still bleeding out. Would you have him crawl away, to die in the woods? Would you have us help him? I'm not exactly a medic. Do we go back to the town we just went to? They didn't want you there in the first place, how would they have reacted to seeing us bring them an injured man? Treat us nicely?"
Verona frowned, she hadn't considered it honestly, the town they passed was unwelcoming. They probably wouldn't react well to them returning. But was that enough of a reason to kill someone? Sure, it would be difficult, but they should have done something right?
"Maybe, we should have just disarmed him. Not immediately go in for the kill." Verona offers, but still, that didn't solve the whole, returning with more men scenario that could have happened.
Everett still isn't buying into what she's saying though. Not looking at the overall point she's trying to make. Thinking only in terms of immediate actions and repercussion, not the morality involved with those decisions. He hadn't for a long time, it was easier that way.
"We can't go back to how it was before. Things aren't what they used to be. You can't go back to how you used to be, no matter how self-righteous you want to act now." Everett's voice was icy now.
Verona's eyes widened, surprised and feeling hurt. She had done things, but it wasn't her fault! She had made mistakes in the war but, she was trying to do the right thing, that's what mattered right? And now, she's trying to be someone better, someone she can live with being. And even now that's still the wrong choice to him?
She turns and marches off, not wanting to hear anymore. She needed a place so sit and not think about anything for awhile.
Laureen was watching the two with a frown, listening to their back and forth. Both not quite listening to the other. She frowns at Everett when he turns her way.
"You shouldn't have used the gun. I have my crossbow; I would have been fine. And it's not like we have much ammunition. We shouldn't waste it." Laureen told Everett. "And she has a point. We should learn more about how to fight here. We could have tied him up till morning before letting him go."
"And that's what you would have done?" Everett asks incredulously.
"No. But she's clearly bothered by it. I'm willing to compromise." Laureen tells him.
She looks to where Verona disappeared and decided to go after her. She finds her sitting by the roots of a tree, arms wrapped around her knees. She doesn't acknowledge her when she approaches. She crouches next to her, before speaking gently.
"I know you feel betrayed and tricked because of what happened. You were trying to help but helped the wrong person. But maybe not having anyone die at all is a bit too extreme a stance to take? And this… it's too much to expect from us. We're soldiers. We were told to get you back safely if you were alive. We were told to keep our weapons a secret. That's what we're going to do. But… I can try to adapt. We won't rely on our guns as much." Laureen sighs before patting her shoulder and standing again.
Rendell obviously had problems with what had happened before. Did she fully agree with her? No. Laureen couldn't do that. She already knew she'd so whatever it took to get home. But she could respect the idea at least.
Verona looks up a bit, showing she's listening. She looks pensive, but still upset.
"And Rendell… you can't hold on to all of them. It'll break you. Try to let some of it go." Laureen said, sounding both exasperated and sad.
Verona eventually returned to camp after being alone for the evening. They were all mostly silent the rest of the night. They took the body away from camp and burned him. Apparently, that was the only way to prevent them from turning, according to Verona.
They were still expecting some sort of punchline, maybe Rendell was having a laugh. But no. This place was just filled with thing's their people only imagined to be real. Like dragons. Apparently, there were bones and skulls, and rumors that across the sea there were three of them living. They were only whispers but, they were only whispered about too.
AN:
Everyone's having a rough time right now. Sorry about that. Everything is sort of at the same time, except for the Barrowton plot, that takes place before Verona leaves Castle Black. The end at Barrowton though, is about the time as everything else.
More to come soon!
Thanks for reading!