"Coming of the Ice King."

Chapter 4

"M: Meets the Nightwatch guard.

S: Faces denial."

Warning: Does this story really need warnings? I mean, it does take place in the world of 'Game of Thrones', after all. Just because Mycroft's there doesn't mean it's going to be any less brutal than what it's normally like. So…uh, warning for sensitive topics and vulgar language.

The sun was slowly making its way down towards the mountains as the snow covered woods were penetrated by a man and his four legged companion, with nothing but the sound of their feet crushing the soft power beneath them, reaching their ears.

The rider had to get off his mount a few hours ago when it became apparent the horse wasn't going to carry him any further, much to the man's obvious dismay.

Mycroft didn't know whenever he should be relieved that the area was so silent or disturbed by it, as he looked around for any inhabitants.

He couldn't spot any signs of wildlife activity anywhere. There was no birds singing on the tree branches, no wolves howling to mark their territories, no squirrels jumping from one tree to another…

The forest was quiet…empty…lifeless.

Turning his attention away from the tree crowns and focusing it on the snow covered ground, the elder Holmes brother spotted yet another anomaly in this already bizarre forest. The snow before him was completely smooth as a mirror surface, there was literally no footprints other than those left by his snow boots and Caramel's hooves.

"Dear me…"Mycroft whispered. "This place is completely deserted, nothing but white as far as the eye can see…"

Shaking his head, Sherlock's older brother was about to start moving again…when he was met with an unexpected resistance from the horse's end. Frowning, he pulled Caramel's reins to restore movement but the chestnut colored mount refused to listen.

Finally deciding he had enough of being ignored by an animal, Mycroft turned around to face the source of his problems, only to find his gifted horse staring at a group of people in the far distance, safely concealed by the tree line because of their dark clothing.

A deeper frown appeared on the elder Holmes's face. He should have been able to spot them when he looked around for the first time, Sherlock would have mocked him senseless if he saw him now. Middle age was catching up to him faster than he thought.

Squinting his eyes to see the people better he noticed that some of the figures are a bit blacker than the others and, by the way those shapes were wriggling around, the two groups are in the middle of a heated argument, with the black ones surrounded by the lighter ones.

"Ah…" Mycroft nodded his head in understanding. "A textbook example of a gang up." He then sighted and looked back at the insufferable animal. "You aren't going to move an inch if we don't check out what this is all about, aren't you?"

If Caramel could give him a cheeky grin, he would.

Another sight escaped the British Government's mouth as he ran a hand through his face.

"Very well then." He grumbled and began walking towards the group in question. "Let's see if we can do something about this show of brutality." Icy blue eyes glared at the horse as he whispered. "But if they decide to target us instead, I will not hesitate to sacrifice you."

Caramel let out an angry whine and nipped him in the arm, offended by the idea.

"You brought it upon yourself, Caramel." Mycroft muttered swatting the horse's head away. "You're the one who insisted we approach them."

#Page break#

As they came closer Mycroft could see that he was correct on his earlier observations, like always.

There was a group of men clad in rags and worn out boots like peasants from the medieval teamed books he read as a child, surrounding another, albeit smaller group consisting of four men, dressed in black armor and thick cloaks of the same color.

Based on the threatening postures and clenched fists, it was obvious that the lesser dressed men were the aggressors in this situation, as the four soldiers stood rigid and ready to protect themselves but otherwise calm despite being outnumbered by an angry mob.

"You shouldn't have come here, you filthy Crows." One of the peasants growled and began circling the black clad men, allowing the elder Holmes brother to finally see their faces.

"There is no need for violence." The presumed captain of the soldiers said who looked like-Oh God no! Mycroft thought he was going to faint-a clone of Sherlock Holmes, complete with the dark curly hair and puppy dog brown eyes. The only differences being this man also had a beard and mustache. "We only came to buy some food to take back to the Wall."

"Buy?" Another nameless peasant laughed in their face. "Did you hear them boys?! They actually think we'd believe that this bunch of murderers and thieves bought the food they're taking, and didn't simply rob the nearest sanctuary they passed!" He then spat at Not-Sherlock's feet. "I'd rather fuck a donkey than believe a word coming from your mouth."

"Believe what you want, we don't give a rat's ass." The soldier to the right of Not-Sherlock, tall with blond hair and a bulky frame, snarled his hand fingering his sword. "But let us get back to the Wall so we can continue protecting your ungrateful behinds from the Wildlings, while you all sleep soundly in your cozy beds!"

Mycroft groaned.

Things were about to get ugly.

Not-Sherlock only managed a warning hiss of 'Finn!' before the villager pounced right back at him.

"We don't need protection from a bunch of convicted murderers, thieves, deserters and rapists!" The man screamed, getting straight into 'Finn's' face. "We'd rather have the Wildlings run amok than go to sleep knowing that creatures no better than them are tasked with watching our backs!" The two men glared at each other silently before the villager spoke again, voice still seething. "We know what your kind does on those, so called, 'patrols' of yours, you're not fulling anybody. Instead of doing your supposed duty you: Break into people's houses, steal all the food and goods, kill all that try to stop you and, when all this is done, fuck a mother on the very eyes of her children!"

"Funny you should mention that last part." Mycroft, who decided to step in before Finn could get himself and his comrades into any further trouble, spoke earning the attention of both the villagers and the soldiers.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man who was previously yelling at the blond soldier, sneered at the red haired politician.

"Oh nobody important, I assure you." Mycroft answered, smiling that condescending Iceman smile at his verbal sparring partner, who was in the middle of sizing him up. "Just a casual traveler passing by."

"Why don't you mind your own business then?" The unnamed man glared at him, his green eyes gleaming in the sun. Clearly he was the Alpha of this small pound. Just as well, the eldest should always claim leadership.

"Believe me, I would," The Holmes quickly assured him. "But I couldn't help but notice the giant hypocrisy in your last statement."

His opponent blinked dumbly at him, clearly not understanding half of what Mycroft said.

"What?"

The Iceman grinned, already smelling the approaching victory.

"Shouldn't one practice what he preaches?" He asked, enjoying the confused look on the villager's face. "I assume it's rather unfair of hating someone for a given crime…when you are guilty of the same thing." All the pieces were in their place, time for the final check mate. "Especially when you're in the presence of the offspring of the lady you've been sharing your bed with for the past month."

This took the man so of guard he actually stepped back, looking at Mycroft as if he just grew another head.

"H-How did you…" He squeaked out before his brain could catch up to his mouth.

The younger men in the group might not have been any smarter than their leader, but they did understand the words 'offspring', 'lady', 'sharing' and 'bed' quite well.

"Wait so that's what you've been doing this past moth?!" One of the other men, this one looking to be in his mid-twenties, yelled. "You said you were sick!"

"I…I…" The accused male stuttered not really knowing what to say.

"So you're the reason mom and dad stopped living together?!" Another one, clearly an older brother of the other accuser, screamed. "What the fuck, man?! How could you?!"

The villager turned white, seeing that the two brothers are seconds away from pouncing at him, and, out of desperation, pointed a shaky finger at Mycroft.

"You! You have no proof!" He screeched out, voice small and far from the angry yell they heard before.

But the Man behind the British Government simply smiled his superior smile at him.

"Oh I believe your face is proof enough."

After that, the unlucky villager found himself on the receiving end of the brothers' fury while the other men tried to pull them apart.

"Well…that was easy." Mycroft muttered to himself, observing the chaos he managed to cause by simply opening his mouth. He then turned to Not-Sherlock and his crew, who were staring at him as if he just made a rock sing or something equally impossible.

"It seems like we'll have no further problems from these gentlemen." He said as he patted Caramel's snot. "Come along then." He waved them over, when it became apparent they wouldn't move without his say so. "The Wall isn't getting any closer."

Mycroft didn't have to turn around to know they followed him, the nearly breathless question: "How did you do that?" From Not-Sherlock was enough proof that they did.

#In Baker Street:

"Sherlock-"

"No, John."

"But Anthea said-"

"Of Course she said that, she's in on Mycroft's sick plan! What else is she supposed to say?!"

"Sherlock you're not making any sense, why would Mycroft-"

"For revenge, of course! Why else?! He's still angry about the whole 'Reichenbach' fiasco and this is his sick way of paying me back!"

"He's paying you back for pretend-dying by going missing?!"

"No, John. Not by going missing, by hiding where he knows I won't find him!"

"I don't think Mycroft would do such a thing…"

"Then you clearly don't know my brother! Well, in any case, he can hide wherever he wants for how long he wants! I am not falling for this obvious trick!"

Somehow, after listening to this, John gets the feeling that Mycroft isn't the one hiding in this situation…