Long Cold Night
Disclaimer: Game of Thrones and 'A Song of Ice and Fire' is owned principally by George R.R. Martin. Please support the official release. Enjoy.
Chapter 1
The hunter took a breath to relieve his desperate lungs. He had to take his time. Everything that besieged him in his environment, the cold, the wet, the uncomfortable position of his body as he kept the rifle steady, he focused all of his mind to the task of keeping the target in his sight. He kept himself aware of the wind, of the trees in his sight, all to make sure the dark shape in the scope would be killed as quickly as possible.
He decided he was going to finally take his shot. He sighed out a breath and stopped his chest from moving, his throat seeming to clench as he held the breath to keep his sight as motionless as possible. He removed his finger from the trigger a moment to flex it to make sure the circulation was fine, then he put it to the trigger and slowly put pressure to the metal.
Finally he squeezed. He gun punched him in the shoulder, but he didn't let that distract him either, taking the blow to keep his sight on the animal.
The dark shape rocked slightly and quickly fell.
Jon Snow finally lowered the rifle and let himself rest easy, gulping down heaps of frigid air. He let go of the grip of the rifle and worked the bolt to remove the casing and slipped it into an empty sleeve on the strap of his pack.
Then he finally began to sling the rifle over his back and climb down the tree to retrieve the deer.
Brandon Stark awoke to an empty room. He could hear people already working in the house. The last day before winter, here in Winterfell, Alaska, meant that everyone had to have everything ready to be cast in near perpetual darkness, come tomorrow.
Bran worked his arms to hold his torso up on his elbows.
"Hodor!" The boy's cry went unanswered for a moment.
Then the door opened and a man filled the entire door. Bran remembered he'd once been very afraid of the giant man, but that had been many years ago.
Wyllis Hodor gave a friendly smile as he walked from the doorway and into Bran's room proper. Wyll, as he preferred to be called, had first met Bran when the boy's father had brought on Hodor to help around the massive house, since Ned Stark himself couldn't always help with such things in his job as sheriff. Free room and board had been all Wyll had asked, and in exchange he'd kept the furnaces fed with wood, making repairs, helping to fight off the snow. And now...
"Morning, Bran," Hodor muttered in his deep voice. Wyll wasn't a dumb man, but very soft spoken. He grabbed the wheelchair in the corner of the room and rolled it over to rest by Brandon's bed.
Since Bran's accident, Hodor had also become the one to help Bran with his wheelchair.
In the main floor of the house, below where Bran had just woken, Catelyn Stark-Tully had been directing a second woman, Jeyne Westerling, in helping prepare breakfast. Cat, as she preferred amongst her family, was forced to contend with the massive interruption of her husband attempting to help prepare eggs and bacon, taking up room in her kitchen.
"Ned, go sit down," she ordered, kindly and firmly.
"Alright," Ned acquiesced with a frown, "go on." The tall man with dirty blonde hair moved away from the kitchen to sit beside his black-haired oldest son. Robbert Stark merely gave his father a sheepish grin at his failed attempt to help with breakfast. Robb, because he refursed to be called 'Bob Stark,' was by all accounts less serious than his father.
A pair of running feet came from the nearby hallway, and a dark-haired head poked in. Arya looked around briefly and settled looking on her mother.
"Bran's awake," she replied dutifully. Ned Stark frowned and stood, gathering his radio.
"Ned," Cat growled, her face going straight with displeasure.
"He doesn't want to see me," Ned declared, as if that settled it, knowing what Catelyn was going to order him to do. Catelyn didn't even seem to register that he'd spoken.
"Of course he wants to see you, you're his father." Catelyn countered, still stern. Arya merely watched, worry twisting her eyes to resemble a sad expression. "It wasn't your fault."
Ned looked away, towards the door, then glanced down at the island table he'd been sitting at before meeting Catelyn's gaze again, sorrow in his grizzled face.
"Yes it was," he declared, not for the first time, and began to leave. Catelyn didn't try to stop him, in practice knowing by now that she couldn't. Catelyn didn't watch Ned leave, merely rolling her jaw, her mouth a closed thin line on her face, staring with quiet anger at the spot Ned had been standing in.
She was finally distracted from her thoughts by Arya speaking again.
"You're not going to seperate, are you?" Catelyn's head spun to look at Arya, mouth falling open in shock and sympathy for her daughter's concern. She held an arm out to Arya who walked in to give her mother an embrace.
"No," Catelyn assured, her arms around Arya's shoulders and head, stroking her black hair gently. "No, don't worry about that, Arya. We'll drag him back by his thick bushy beard if we have to, won't we?"
Jon drove his massive grey truck into Winterfell, the bed of the vehicle full of the moose Jon had felled, hours after he'd finally dragged the beast to the vehicle. Jon finally felt warm for the first time as the massive white wolf laid its head in his lap. Jon lowered a hand as he entered town to rub his fingers in the wolf's hair with a small smile.
He finally pulled into the Giantbane Diner, causing the wolf to sit up and pant, looking around. Jon turned to the wolf, mischief in his expression.
"Coming in, or do you want me to bring you something?" the wolf stopped panting and looked back at Jon with its blue eyes, almost as if it had understood him. Jon chuckled and opened the door to get out, then stepped aside as the wolf followed him, jumping out to circle him excitedly. Jon closed up his truck and moved inside quickly.
"Ah," came the gruff baritone voice from behind the counter. "Still bringing this ugly beast around with you still, huh?" Jon greeted Tormund Giantbane with a look of incredulity and slight offense in sympathy for his wolf.
"You're calling Ghost ugly?" Jon asked, disbelieving.
Tormund's head actually recoiled just a bit at the question, meeting Jon Snow's gaze with his own pale blue eyes.
"No," Tormund replied, his voice completely serious. "I was talking to Ghost in the first place." The big redhead went down on his elbows to lean over the counter to meet Ghost in the eye. "He talks too much, too," he told the wolf, before adding. "I've got a lovely bone in the back for you, do you want it? Speak!" The wolf barked once, familiar with the routine, and Tormund stood straight again.
"Have a seat, Jon Snow," Tormund said, walking to the back room. "Ygritte will be right with you." The big man's entrance into the back room brought forth, from what Jon could hear from his place in the diner, a cacophony of shouting orders and being shouted back at in return.
Ygritte quickly glanced into the dining room and saw that Jon was there, and immediately smiled. She breathed to regain her composure, then entered the dining area to walk over to Jon, affecting a coquettish smile, with an edge of teasing. Jon didn't look up from the menu at first, looking up at the sound of Ygritte's sneakers hitting the floor and putting on a polite smile.
Ygritte wasn't dressed like one would expect of a waitress at a diner, instead wearing well-fitting blue jeans and a dark green and blue flannel shirt that matched her dark blue eyes. Tormund's hair was a shade brighter than the girl's own.
Jon paused a moment and realized he was still dressed mostly in his thick fur coat and coveralls. He quickly forgot it just as fast, remembering he'd worn the same a hundred times going into the diner.
"Back again, Snow?" Ygritte teased. "Coffee, or would you like something stronger?"
"Coffee's fine," Jon declared nonchalantly, and looked back down at the menu. Which Ygritte knew he'd seen a few thousand times. She frowned, annoyed, and walked over to the coffee station. She was distracted when the door hit the bells as it opened, and she looked over her shoulder to see Ned Stark entering in his sherrif's uniform.
"Could I get some coffee as well, please," Ned called, sitting down a space away from Jon.
"Yeah," Ygritte answered, looking back to filling two mugs with the fresh black liquid.
Ned looked over at Jon, then back to the table before him to pick up the menu himself.
"Forecast says the weather's supposed to be bad this tme tomorrow. The road's going to be covered in three or four feet here in town, could get anywhere up to six feet of snow between here and Old Town."
"I wouldn't mind getting covered in six feet of Snow," Ygritte muttered to herself under her breath, before carrying both mugs over to the two men, just as Tormund emerged with a giant thigh bone. Thankfully it was perfectly dry and clean, with a few strips of meat still on it. Tormund leaned over the counter again and held the bone out to Ghost just as Ygritte set the second mug in front of Jon.
Ned took a sip of the pure black coffee with exhausted relish. Ghost began to chew the bone hard enough for it to emit a cracking sound. Tormund was watching a moment before standing up straight again to speak to his two customers.
"That beast is eager for that bone," he remarked, somewhat impressed by Ghost's eager gnawing.
Ygritte grinned, despite herself. "I can empathize." Jon didn't look up, reading something on the menu, though Ned raised his head a moment to raise an eyebrow at Ygritte, who just met his gaze with a frown and used her eyes to gesture to Jon. Ned did a silent double take from Ygritte to Jon and looked back to his menu, understanding. Jon seemed blissfully unaware of the double meaning, causing Tormund to move his giant paw of a hand to cover his mouth as if he was rubbing his mouth and beard thoughtfully, but really to prevent escaping laughter.
"So," Ygritte called, smiling again. "What can I get started for you, Lord Snow?"
"Just a number three, I think," Jon declared, setting the menu down, not looking up. Ygritte's smile faltered as she ground her back teeth in her head, exasperated. "Actually," Jon added, "Could you have it made to go, I got a moose in the truck and I need to get it to Clegane before sun down."
"Aye," Ygritte answered, running the ticket back to the cook.
Ygritte took up a position next to Manse Rayder as the cook was moving hash browns from the skillet.
"Number 3, to go, please," Ygritte asked, still grinding her teeth.
In the dining room, Jon took a sip of coffee as well after adding a bit of sugar.
"How's Brandon?" Jon asked quietly. Tormund didn't wince, but his eyes turned to look at Ned carefully. Ned didn't look up from the menu.
"Better," Ned replied curtly.
"Ned," Tormund began, seeking to change the subject. "I hate to trouble you, but I did want to ask you if you could tell Baratheon to encourage some of the town to begin payin' their damned tabs sometime soon."
"Aye," Ned answered, giving Tormund a smile. "I'll bring it up."
"All I ask," Tormund assured, waving a hand in a low key gesture of thanks.
In the back, Ygritte pulled a pen quickly from her belt and wrote something on a napkin, before tossing it on top of the container, the writing down against the insulated plastic. Then she paused, getting an idea, and pulled a tube of lipstick from her pocket, quickly applied it, then kissed the napkin on the writing side and replaced it.
"Trying for that crow-headed idiot again, Grit?" Mance asked.
"Piss off, Manse," Ygritte replied, then walked out with a smile to deliver the package to the man in question. Jon stood with a grateful smile.
"I put some extra napkins on top," Ygritte explained, still smiling. She shrugged with a tilt of her head, her eyes blinking. (Am I some fucking schoolgirl now?) she asked herself. "Just in case."
"Thanks, Grit," Jon replied, "but I don't need 'em."
"Well," Ygritte said with a grin. "Keep 'em just in case then." Jon nodded with a smile and walked from the diner. Ygritte's smile disappeared when she saw Jon toss the extra napkin, with her number and kiss on it, into the bin just outside the door and move toward his truck.
Tormund actually went to one elbow, watching Snow with his chin in his paw, slightly amazed. Ned just watched over his shoulder.
"That boy's fucking thick," Tormund declared. Ygritte put a hand on her hip, the other planted on the bar top to lean slightly, watching Jon with angry exasperation. Jon Snow suddenly turned around and opened the door, causing both to widen their eyes a bit, surprised, expecting Snow to finally have gotten the millionth hint.
"Ghost," Jon odered, "come." The pale wolf stood, carrying his bone out the door, Jon closing it behind himself and going to his truck to leave.
Tormund actually wanted to hit Jon over the head as the hunter drove off.
"I was wrong," Tormund declared. "He's a fuckin' idiot."
Bran rolled his chair by hand into the kitchen. His mother didn't see him at first, concentrating on cooking, her back to Bran. When she turned she gave an excited expression. Robb reached over offering his fist, knuckles up. Bran smirked and touched his fist to Robb's own.
Bran locked his wheels as he came to sit at the table. Catelyn handed him a plate stacked with eggs and hash browns. Bran took the plate in his own hand, his arm shaking slightly under the weight.
"Thank you, mother," Bran said dutifully. He glanced around. "Did father leave already?"
"Yes," Catelyn replied quickly. "He got a dispatch about an accident on the road towards Old Town." Robb's head spun to look at Catelyn as his mother spoke, recognizing the lie immediately. Catelyn glanced back at Robb as soon as Bran began to dig into his eggs. Catelyn looked back to see Hodor entering the room.
"Wyllis," Cat began, drawing the big man's attention. "If you could help Robb bring the emergency generators from the basement after breakfast." The big man nodded and sat down by Robb opposite from Bran.
"You think the lines will go down?" Robb asked. Ned had made sure the power lines to the Stark house were sturdy, but sometimes even they went down in the hardest weather.
"Ned said there's to be a storm coming in, 4 feet of snow maybe," Catelyn informed, moving over to help Jeyne. "Which means Jeyne you might have to stay here for a while until we can get you home safely. I'm sure you and Robb will have a lot of time to spend together."
Robb actually went rigid a moment, Jeyne froze and turned to look at Catelyn evenly.
"Ma'am-" Jeyne began.
"Yes, I know about you and Robb," Catelyn teased, grinning as she stirred some pancake batter. "Don't worry, I'm not going to stop you seeing each other. Just," Catelyn winced and glanced at Jeyne. "Keep your affections a bit more subtle than last week."
Robb could only look down, blushing slightly.
Sandor Clegane emerged from the butcher's shop with out a coat, just his bloody apron over a thick knit sweater, to see what Jon Snow had brought him. He actually sighed and shook his head slightly as he examined the dead animal.
"Big fuckin' animal," Clegane noted. "Good shot," he complimented begrudgingly, pointing to the killing wound.
"How much can you give me for it?" Jon asked, wincing against the cold wind.
"Two and a half, maybe 275," Clegane replied quickly. "Best I can do right now." Jon sighed, hearing what he wished he wouldn't have. Clegane turned his scarred face to look at Snow. "Winter is coming, Jon, you know what that's like." Jon sighed and nodded.
"Alright," Jon agreed. "You can make it two-and-a-half if you throw in some steaks."
"Done," Clegane replied. He and Jon began to remove the beast from the back of Jon's truck, grunting as they wrestled the weight out. "You holing up with that dumb cunt Giantsbane again this year? I heard he's got a niece living in the house now." Jon just growled under his breath at the mention of Ygritte.
"Aye, she moved in with Tormund after last winter," Jon commented. "And aye, I'm holing up with Tormund. Moving into the attic tomorrow."
The moose finally hit the ground and Clegane and Snow let out a sigh as they were freed from the worst part of the burden. Clegane slapped a button to raise the big door to the shop, and ducked in to grab a chain and pull it off a reel, attaching a hook.
"Heard the girl was into you, too," Clegane replied. "Tormund says you can't take a hint."
"I can take a hint," Jon replied, aggravated. "Tormund talks too much."
"Oh, so you know the girl likes you," Clegane muttered. The hooked moose began to be pulled into the shop by a motor. "So either you don't like girls, or you're a dumb cunt."
"I like girls," Jon replied, angrily.
"So you're a dumb cunt," Clegane replied. Jon sighed.
"She can do a lot better than the town's bastard orphan," Jon declared. Clegane turned and walked from the shop to face Snow, his face serious.
"You are a dumb cunt," Clegane replied. "You'd rather have that dumb cunt Theon fuck her?" Clegane held out a wad of bills. "Come back tomorrow I'll have your steaks for you. You should go back into that diner and say pretty things to that girl before someone else tickles her fancy."
Ygritte walked over, her writing pad in her hand, pen in the other, as she took an order from Stannis and Melisandre Baratheon, fighting to ignore Theon Greyjoy calling her name. The mayor's brother paused to look around Ygritte to glance at Theon, seated by two men the same age as Theon.
"Fool boy," Stannis muttered. Melisandre smiled at her husband, leafing through her bible. Ygritte finished jotting down the couple's order. "Don't let that Greyjoy give you a hard time."
"He won't," she answered with a smile. She quickly slapped the ticket on the window to where Mance was cooking away, then turned to see Theon getting up and walking toward her. Ygritte walked over to the coffee machine to add water via a pitcher.
"Baby, you're ignoring me," Theon moaned, faux hurt. Ygritte didn't answer.
"Sorry, Greyjoy, I'll try harder," Ygritte replied. The door rang as it opened. Ygritte glanced over her shoulder to see Jon entering. Her eyes widened as Jon's eyes met hers. Then Jon looked away and glanced around to see the diner was full.
"Jon!" called a voice. Jon looked to see Sansa sitting opposite of a blonde boy her own age. The redhead waved and Jon waved back and walked over. Ygritte looked back to the coffee maker to poor two mugs.
"Come on, baby," Theon begged, walking beside Ygritte as she delivered the coffee to Stannis and his wife. "You know I can treat you the best out of the whole town."
"Oh really?" Ygritte asked sarcastically. "Thanks, start by never speaking to me again." Stannis met the redhead's eyes and smirked slightly. Mel coughed politely and leaned down further to read her book.
"Hello, Jon," Sansa greeted smiling. "You know Joffery."
Joffery Baratheon scowled at Jon, but nodded at least.
"Sansa, Joffery," Jon greeted. He glanced over to where Ygritte was being annoyed and followed around by Theon. "Has he been doing that long?"
"He's been trying to get Ygritte to go out with him since before we got here," Sansa replied, grinning with amusement at Theon's failing attempts. "Sit down, join us." Jon sat down beside Sansa. "Theon should just give up by now, she's not interested in him."
"Hm," Joffery agreed haughtily. "The Greyjoys aren't known for being particularly smart or likeable, however." Jon looked up as Tormund walked to the booth. Tormund asked Sansa and Joffery if they were enjoying their service. When both answered in the affirmative, Tormund looked over at Theon and Ygritte.
"Ygritte will be with you in a moment, Lord Snow," Tormund declared, his voice a growl. The big man moved silently over to where Theon was harassing his niece. Theon spun to face Tormund the minute the Greyjoy realized Tormund was behind him.
"You done eating, boy?" Theon almost paled at Tormunds growled question.
"Aye, it was delicious," Theon replied, intimidated to be polite.
"Good," Tormund replied, nodding gravely. "Make sure you tip my niece there while you leave." Tormund didn't move for a long time. Finally Theon walked around Tormund to slap a pair of twenties on the booth he'd occupied and walked out quickly.
"I coulda done that," Ygritte replied, grinning. Tormund grinned in reply.
"I know you could, I just didn't want you getting Greyjoy's bloody nose all over my floor," Tormund replied with chuckle. "Snow's here if you could get his order soon."
"Be happy to," Ygritte said just as Tormund started to walk past. The big man paused.
"You know you two are gonna be under one roof for five months after tomorrow," Tormund reminded, worried. "Be careful you don't ruin a good thing, or he might leave."
Theon angrily shut his engine off and stepped out heading to the woods, pistol in hand. He needed to shoot something, brimming with anger. He was a Greyjoy. Nobody in Winterfell had a right to look down on him, certainly not that twat from Scottland Tormund.
Stomping further into the trees, Theon finally gave a shout and raised the gun and put three rounds into the nearest tree. Theon paused to pant, lowering his gun, breathing heard.
Then he heard a shout. Theon actually jumped back, the sound startling him.
He looked around, wide eyed.
What startled him was that the shout had sounded human.
Theon raised his pistol, a colt semi-automatic.
"Who's there?!" Theon's shouted question got no reply.
He heard clicking, like ice cracking softly. Theon looked to where he thought the sound came from, and saw something moving. Theon narrowed his eyes, trying to see farther.
"Hello?"
The moving shape didn't shout a reply to Theon. All he heard was the clicking like ice cracking. Theon raised the pistol to a two handed grip, aiming at the shape. Theon could swear it was a person moving, but why wasn't the person answering?
"I have a gun," Theon cried. "I'll defend myself! Say your name!"
Clicking answered.
Theon gritted his teeth and steadied himself, and then fired a single shot at the shape. The shape recoiled from the impact. Then it started to walk faster towards Theon.
When it came into range where Theon could see it, the Greyjoy froze, stunned.
Then he screamed and began firing.
The gun clicked empty before the thing reached Theon.
By then it was too late.