"Coming of the Ice King."
Chapter 6
"M: Reaches the wall…and is understandably impressed
S: Has a talk with his inner big brother."
Mycroft might have felt slightly perplexed after his brain estimated the general size of The Wall, when it became visible from a distance, since yes, it was enormous, but still relatively plausible if approached with a qualified team of builders.
Despite being sure the world he was sent to save was nothing like his dear London, the time period difference was evidence enough, the laws of physics seem to be one of the things they actually have in common.
One little thread of normalcy he can hold onto, in order for his sanity to remain intact throughout the ordeal.
That little piece of comfort was quickly thrown out the window when he finally stood face-to-face with the thing. The giant row of ice blocks overshadowing the sun, leaving him and his companions in a dark shadow, no beginning or end in sight no matter how far he looked, and the sheer coldness emitting from it rivalling that of a strong winter wind.
For a long moment, all he could do was stare at this impossible construction, his mind trying to find a logical explanation for its existence.
"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" Finn's voice said from somewhere besides him, sounding admiring of the behemoth. "Big as a mountain, cold as the upcoming winter and as everlasting as the Seven Gods. Truly one of our race's greatest creations."
It astounded the elder Holmes just how much more trusting they became of him, once he ratted out all their deepest secret to everyone who cared to listen. Mycroft may be more experienced in dealing with their fellow humanoids than his brother, but even he can be astounded by their way of thinking once or twice.
Right now that honor goes to the character right beside him who took his own dressing-down almost unsettlingly well.
Once the Night watchers stopped gasping in amazement regarding his deductions about their superior, Mycroft decided to move on to another target. Setting his eyes on the blond warrior to Jon's left, he began dissecting the poor sod.
"Now you, Mr. Finn are far more interesting specimen to play deductions on, than your Lord Commander." He said with a predator's look in his eyes. "I believe you come from a warmer climate than Jon, judging by your inability to stand cooler temperatures in a similar fashion, most likely somewhere with a lot of rivers considering your scent is overcome with that of river moss. Now, for why you ended up joining the merry band of men in black…may I place your collective attention towards that rather nicely crafted dagger, hanging from his belt." Immediately all the young heads snapped towards the small weapon, even the owners. "I believe that the answer to that question is hidden within the smooth metal of that blade, for it played quite a large role in your story." The fox-haired man then gestured with his hand and Finn dutifully placed said object in the waiting limb. Mycroft nodded his head and began examining the blade, turning it around in his fingers and even sniffing it at some point, before turning his sharp eyes back to the youngsters waiting in anticipation.
"This little blade tells the tale of a rather tragic love story, a love triangle if you may, where a young lady is married off by her father rich father to a man she doesn't love and tries to cope by having an affair with another young man on the sidelines." Mycroft traced the beautiful carvings on the dagger, silently watching the blonde's reactions from the corner of his eyes. Ah, there was the first nervous shifting of posture. Good. He was getting somewhere then. "One day the pair wasn't careful enough and they were caught red handed by the husband. Naturally, as you may figure, the man wasn't very pleased with what he witnessed so he resorted to the one thing all you simpletons understand, violence. And this-" Mycroft placed the knife up to their eye-level. "-was the man's choice of weapon, the same knife gifted to him by the bride's father as a wedding present. Such irony…the exact weapon given to him for personal protection was the same one that caused his demise. Isn't that right, Mr. Finn?"
The man in question was slowly nodding his head in confirmation, obviously wondering what else the strange man was able to deduce from such a common object.
"Suffice to say the encounter was resolved fairly quickly, as the attacker was untrained in physical combat as opposed to young Mr. Finn here, with the poor man having his throat cut open for the sole crime of wanting to protect his marriage." With that said Mycroft threw the blade back to its original owner, as he no longer had any use for it. "Taking this little tale into account we can all deduce that, Mr. Finn had joined the Night's Watch in order to evade being punished for said crime."
The surprised looks, as well as a jaw-drop from the dissected blonde, told the elder Holmes brother that he was, once again, right in his deductions, gaining him another point closer to gaining their complete trust.
But what spoiled this little victory of his, was the fact that they already knew all this.
Apparently the tallest of all the soldiers wasn't exactly discreet about what brought him to the Wall. He was the exact opposite in fact. He viewed his…accomplishment as a source of pride, so he bragged about it to any poor sod that was willing to listen.
Which meant that his deductions didn't bother him in the least, crushing Mycroft's hopes of making the man sweat bullets in fear of what he may say next.
He could very well say Finn did his mother on weekends and the idiot would still be bloody proud of it.
Having been told that Mycroft shook his head and threw his hands in the air, mumbling something about 'wasting his deduction skills on goldfish that don't even bother to hide their darkest secrets', before pulling on Caramels reins and forcing the little group to continue their walk.
He refused to deduce Cotter, the skinny ex-thief, and Gared, the brown haired soldier, until his head supposedly stops hurting.
The amount of stupidity was causing him migraines.
Mycroft nodded to the walking contradiction of normal human behavior, his eyes still on the large behemoth before him.
"It is quite the large construction, though hardly the only one I had the privilege of seeing." He admitted. "Back in my country we have a similar building, perhaps even with the same kind of purpose as this one." Not the full truth but close enough. They don't need to know all the details as it's not like either of them will ever go to his world to verify it.
"Your country has a Wall?" The question came from Jon who could be found on Mycroft's other side. "Does thereat of Wildlings linger over your people's heads, as well?" He asked, concern filling each word, reminding the red-head of a certain person sharing his name.
"No." He shook his head. "The threat it was built to protect us from, has long since passed."
"Then why leave it there?" The brown haired man named Gared, asked curious. "If it has served its purpose, why not take it down and use the materials to build something else?"
"It remains standing as a remainder of all the people that died both building and protecting it from all those that tried to take it down." Mycroft stated, gravely, then added in the same tone. "Even builders need their memorials."
Silence fell after those words were spoken, something the older Holmes was grateful for, it was just what his grim telling needed. A moment of silence for all the lives lost.
Once said moment was over, Cotter, who hasn't said a word since Mycroft deduced both Jon and Finn, decided to ask the question that has probably lingered in their heads from the moment the fox haired man first spoke:
"So…now that you reached the Wall, what will you do next?"
All four head looked at him expectantly, wanting to learn all they can about him before they inevitably part ways and life becomes boring again.
"What next?" Mycroft repeated the question, still watching the other Watchers move around the wooden constructions on the ice wall, something he failed to acknowledge when he first looked upon the behemoth, small as ants and just as black. "Well…getting to the other side, of course."
He didn't expect the giant uproar of discouragement that resulted from telling them his real intentions as apparently going over the Wall was seen as very dangerous, and only Watchers are allowed to lead occasional patrols near the border.
That does nothing to discourage the brave Shadow behind the British Government, as you might imagine, but, if Jon and his crew are going to actually take it upon themselves to prevent him from crossing, then by all means.
He'd like to see them try.
Sherlock was sitting on his chair in his Mind Palace, hands under his chin and eyes closed.
"I don't understand." He spoke to the figure in the shadows. "What do you hope to gain from this?"
The man didn't answer, only looked at the curly haired detective with a sad twinkle in his eyes.
"I'm not falling for this, I never did. You know that." Sherlock looked at the man, hints of desperation shining in his bright blue eyes. "Then why? Why use this cheap disappearing tactic? Why the act of supposedly being kidnapped? When are you planning on putting a stop to this nonsense? When England falls and you have no choice but to return?"
The figure still refused to answer, leaving the Detective in silence once more.
"There is no…point, to this." Sherlock continued. "Even if you hid for a month you still wouldn't get what you wanted, we both know I wouldn't learn the lesson and, even if I did I wouldn't show it, I'm much to stubborn to allow you the satisfaction. And your tactics are never like that, you always win. It's not like you to…make a faulty decision."
Silence answered.
"I…I'm starting to think that…" The young man swallowed.
"You're not hiding at all…"
He looked at the direction of where the figure stood.
But there was nobody there.