Well... this was more than a year. I don't know how it happend but I'm very sorry.

Anyway, hoping that anyone still reads this, I kinda found a bit of inspiration so I thought I'd just upload this new chapter...

Hope you enjoy!

xxx

scuffie

Avyn lay in his bed, not being quite able to gather what she had done. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but it had been so good. She had not gotten this kind of affection from a man since she had met Brynden's father. And after all, he was her betrothed – so it was not even that bad, after all. She turned around to look at him and noticed that Tormund was mustering her.

"What is it, Tormund?", she asked.

"Ye surprised me, lass", he shrugged "Now, tomorrow I will take ye to the camp."

"Do I have to go there?", she asked.

"Aye. I want ye to know my people."

"All right, then", she said and got up, adjusting her robe.

"Leaving already, are ye?", he asked and got up as well, not bothering to put on anything, making Avyn avert her eyes.

"I have to get back", she said quietly.

"Aye", he said "but the wee lad can wait a little longer, can't he?"

"I…", Avyn tried to talk but before she could manage to say one more word, Tormund had crossed the distance between them, kissing her again. And yet again, Avyn got pulled into a spiral of lust and passionate affection.

The sun was already about to rise in the East when Avyn finally hurried back to her chambers. Something about her felt so very light that she wasn't even afraid to meet anyone on the way – she was careful nevertheless. But with Tormund by her side, whatever could happen to her?

She felt like skipping, singing and dancing when she arrived at her door. Could it really be? Could one night change things so fundamentally?

She still had a lot of respect for the tall, fiery man, but it felt like her fear had changed to… something like admiration, maybe? He made her feel strangely uncomfortable and yet so very warm and welcome. All of this might have been a good idea after all.

She crept beneath the soft covers of her bed and closed her eyes, hoping to maybe at least get an hour of sleep, as she felt Brynden scooting closer to his mother.

"Well, you look different", Sansa greeted Avyn as they sat down for breakfast, on their usual seats, opposing Davos and Tormund, while Brynden sat next to Jon, as always.

Avyn exchanged a quick look with Tormund, who grinned at her in amusement while she blushed.

"You know what they say, My Lady", Avyn stuttered "A good night's sleep can go a long way…"

She felt the table vibrate slightly by Tormund's silent chuckle at her answer.

"So, I take it you managed to come to terms with your engagement?", Sansa said, lowering her voice.

"I think so", Avyn smiled "Of course, I could never love a wildling like him."

"Of course", Sansa said, noticing how her friend's eyes always seemed to search for Tormund very quickly before returning to her partner in conversation.

"Well, I mean… it's not possible, is it? Though, I have got to admit, he's nicer than I thought."

"Avyn…", Sansa sighed, amused at how her friend clearly managed to lie to herself.

"Anyway, it's only a few more days until the wedding. I really should get started on that sigil. I was thinking… bronze… and blue."

"Grey-blue", Sansa smiled "I'm pretty sure it'll suit you very nicely."

"Not quite sure about the bronze, I was always more one for silver. But it just befits…"

"Him?", Sansa said ever so innocently.

"Oh, nonononono. No", Avyn said and shook her head adamantly.

Tormund and Brynden stood in front of her, both looking at the ground, and even Tormund seeming very small all of a sudden.

"Brynden is not going to the wildlings' encampment with us. And he certainly is not going to come hunting. He is THREE, Tormund."

"But, Ann, you said I's a big boy", Brynden mumbled.

"Not quite big enough, darling, I'm sorry. Now, off you go with Suca. Maybe the two of you can go take a walk, mhm?"

"Is not fair", the kid grumbled.

"This has nothing to do with fairness", Avyn said, shooting her betrothed an annoyed look as to say why the hell would you put ideas like this in his head? "You are just too young, Brynden, and I want you to be safe. Now, come here, give me a kiss and then have a nice day with Suca."

"No", the kid said and did not say good bye to his mother but instead took the handmaiden's hand instantly and let her lead him to the castle.

"Lass", Tormund said, putting a hand on his fiancée's shoulder "Ye should not fret."

"I'm not fretting", Avyn sighed "It's a difficult age, and you giving him such adventurous ideas isn't going to help me, Master Giant."

"Are ye mad at me, love?"

Avyn stopped. Love?

"No", she sighed and took a step towards him, taking his hand from her shoulder, intertwining their fingers "I am not mad at you, Tormund."

They stood a moment in silence, holding hands, as he was eying her carefully, making sure she truly was not so very distraught anymore.

"Aye", he said after a while, startling her. She let go off his hand and straightened her posture, taking a few steps back again "We should get the horses."

"Now, come on, Tormund, do keep up!", she shouted as she let her horse gallop through the forest. Avyn had not been on horseback like this for a while. Her braids were flying behind her in the wind, and she heard Tormunds deep chuckle behind her as he hurried and was soon by her side.

"I knew ye had a wild side to ye, lass", he said as he was finally beside her and they slowed down a little to converse more easily.

"I would not call it wild, though, rather free-spirited", she smiled, taking in this impressive man next to her, even though he slouched a bit while sitting on his horse.

"Do try to sit up straight", she told him "You are going to be a lord, you know, you should look the part."

While he did so he asked: "What else are ye planning on changing about me, lassie?"

"Not too much", she said, surprised by the realisation that, indeed, he would a few more clothes and maybe stop eating like a pig, but basically he had the makings of a ruler already. But then again, he was a leader, a leader of wildlings.

"Don't ye wonder what I would change, love?"

"You… what? Yes, yes I want to know!", Avyn said. What? Never had it occurred to her, that there might be things he would want to be different. And in addition, had he called her "love" again? Was this going to become just a… a regular thing?

"I'd always have ye come hunt with me", he grinned "just to see ye happy like this. And I'd have ye in me bed every night."

"T…Tormund! No, hush, no one may know – And we don't talk about these things!"

"I ken ye wouldn't. But I love to see ye blush", he laughed.

He did use the word love quite often, didn't he?

They left the forest, and there it lay before them, the wildlings' camp, which looked kind of chaotic but also weirdly cosy with all those furs and the smoke rising from camp fires.

Tormund let her to what seemed to be the entrance as it was path big enough for two horses side by side leading through the camp.

"Tormund!", one of the men guarding that path greeted the fiery haired man and added something, Avyn was not able to understand.

"Yvrain, 'tis good to see ye, lad, Hakbard, as well!", Tormund said and added something in that weird language, which was seemingly about Avyn, making the men laugh, to her dismay. But it was all so very strange, making her kind of shrink, unable to say anything. They passed through and suddenly it hit Avyn how used she was to the luxury of living in a castle such as Winterfell.

Never could she have stayed in one of these little tents, living halfway outside, no possibility to take a bath or anything, they were truly wildlings.

Tormund dismounted and handed his horse's reigns to one a young boy, before he went over and lifted Avyn off her horse. The lady, surprised and a little smitten by this gallantry, smiled at him.

"I thought they might greet you with a bit more of a spectacle", she wondered.

"Nah, not me, but they'll greet ye all right, lass."

"What do you mean?", she said "Me?"

"If I had been gone for weeks they might've prepared a feast, but I'm here all the time. Now, that I'm bringin' ye with me, lass, they will welcome ye, not me. But not 'til tonight, so now let me show ye my home." And with that he let her into one of the tents close by, which was surprisingly comfortable on the inside, if you liked fur everywhere. Anyway, it was warm enough for Avyn to take of her cloak.

Inside the tent there was a girl, about 16 years old, sitting on the floor, grinding herbs.

"Munda!", Tormund greeted her with his booming voice, making the girl look up.

She put down her work and came sprinting towards him, speaking some glibberish.

"I have told ye 'bout the Lady Avyn, lass. She is my betrothed, now, so be good", Tormund said "Avyn, meet me youngest, Munda."

"It's good to meet you, Munda", Avyn smiled and curtsied a little, while Munda was mustering her suspiciously.

"I heard ye was to marry a kneeler", was all she said before she left the tent.

"She'll come to terms with it, do not fret, lass", Tormund said, putting an arm around Avyn as to comfort her, but she shoved it off.

"You should stop touching me", she said coolly.

"Well, ye did not tell me so yesterday", he said and softly stroke a loose strand out of her face.

"Let it be", she sighed.

"Ye crave it, I ken ye", he grinned, caressing her face while his other hand wandered about her body. For a second, Avyn gave in to the soft touch of his otherwise rough hands, but not for long:

"For fucks sake, I told you to stop it", she angrily turned away from him and went to finish grinding the herbs.

"Lass", he sighed.

"Wildling", she retorted, her voice sounding a little snuffed.

"Back to that, I see."

Tormund came over and sat down next to her, seeing tears glistering on her face, even though she tried to hide them with her hair, but the braids hardly gave her a chance.

"Ye may not mind Munda too much, there will always be resentment with the two of us being a couple, but others may see the chance this is for both our peoples, love."

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Love."

"All right, lassie."

"You don't love me and I don't love you", she sniffed.

"If you say so", he said, smiling slightly and stroking over her hair.

And suddenly something in her broke and she turned around, crying against his chest.

They sat on the fur-covered floor like that, her face against his chest, his arms wrapped around her with his hands and fingers stroking her back or playing with her hair, for a while. Then, it may have been mere minutes or long hours of silent comfort, they were suddenly interrupted a wildling entered. He looked so fierce, Avyn could not but cling onto Tormund even tighter: His black hair and wild beard covered most of his face while the rest of it was completely scared. With his deep voice, he said something, sounding much like a bark, to Tormund – again, Avyn did not understand any of it – and to her surprise (or was it?) Tormund got up, carefully pushing her aside, and greeted the man with a hug, laughing loudly. Slowly Avyn sat up.

"Yan, meet Avyn", Tormund finally introduced them after a bit "the Southern woman I am to merry. Yan is a good companion and a shitty fighter", he chuckled.

"Ye might think so, but ye would not ken a good fighter if he pierced yer heart with a spear, Giantsbane", Yan laughed, his deep voice making Avyn shiver "Welcome, Lady, to our camp. And though I commend ye for taking the risk of marrying into another people – and it is an important connection all right, I ken it – Ye must be mad to take Tormund, when ye could have a real man like meself", he said, earning himself a powerful nudge against his shoulder.

"Thanks, Yan", Avyn said and tried to smile "I am surprised you feel so positively about this union."

"Well, we have to live in this world now, 'tis right we should have connections to some Kneelers. Now, I have to take the two of ye to the feast, that's why I came after all."

Soo who's still there? What did you think?