DALENE HARNER
The newest addition to Mole's Town's newborn was crying throughout the night, all the way up to now. I kept my cool as I washed clothes for the men of the small Village amongst other women of the Village – my short-tempted sister Nonya amongst them. Nonya moved over to me as she scrubbed a torn-shirt, it looked like rags.
"I wish that Wildling bitch would shut that baby the fuck up." Nonya complained.
I stared at her, "I was a Wildling once too, Nonya." I argued, "Besides, my children were like this when they were born."
"You don't even fucking know who your children are, Dalene!" Nonya argued, "You left them at fucking Kings Landing with your bastard of a husband!"
I rolled my eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you? I've never had a husband, I don't believe in married." I picked up the basket of rags which I had washed, heading over to the door. Nonya followed me, standing in front of me.
"Get that baby to shut the fuck up, yeah?" Nonya commanded, "Otherwise I'll grab it by the neck, twist it and ram it up its Mother's throat."
The baby's cries continued and I put the basket back down where I picked it up from, staring at Nonya madly, "I just thought that I'd let you know, I only had two children." I began, "A daughter and son."
I glared at her in anger as I made my way up the stairs where the crying was coming from.
The Wildling who carried a baby was hanging up some laundry from downstairs, her baby boy crying in a small cot made up out of wood. I stood behind her for a while, not concentrating on her, but on the baby in the cot.
"What do you want?" The Wildling asked me, folding up some rags ready to hang them up.
I stared at her, snapping out of some sort of trance, "The ladies downstairs; they're complaining about your baby crying."
"I can't stop it, can't I?" The Wildling argued, "I can barely look after myself, let alone him!"
"If you don't stop him from crying, then chances are that he will get stabbed in the middle of the night." I told her, this was not a threat either; this was me speaking the truth, and she knew full well that it was. "What's your name?" I asked her.
"Why does it matter to you?" She snapped, staring at me.
"No reason." I replied, looking down at the baby as it cried loudly, before looking at his Mother again. "I just want you to know that whatever happens, I won't let anybody hurt your child, alright?"
She opened her mouth, about to answer, until footsteps came heaving up the stairs.
Torund was stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the Wildling in rage; as though he wanted to murder her, not to mention the child.
"What's this I see, a child?" He grunted.
The Wildling was about to speak. "A large man dropped her and the child off earlier; said that we needed to shelter her, keep her safe."
"And why's that?" Torund asked, "So that she doesn't get raped at Craster's Keep? Girl, I'm afraid that's unlikely. How about a rape and then a murder of your baby?"
"That won't happen." I said, staring at Torund madly.
"What's your name, Wildling?" He asked me.
"My name is Dalene Harner." I told him.
He seemed amazed, staring at me as though I was inhuman. "Harner, eh?" He asked. "Wildling's like you don't often have surnames."
"I'm not exactly a 'Wildling', Ser Tor—"
He grabbed my hair, stopping me from finishing my sentence. The Wildling rushed over to her Son, cradling him in her arms; holding him close to her chest as Torund forced me down to the floor, his mouth at my ear.
"What did you say, bitch? That you're not a Wildling?" He asked, his voice growing deeper.
"I'm sorry, Ser Torund. I—I am a Wildling." I said in a stuttered tone, almost a whisper.
"And you're right, Dalene." He began, "This Wildling bitch here, the one with the boy; she isn't in for a good rape." I saw him look up at the Wildling as he neared his mouth to my ear, "You are."
I laid on the floor. My heart was beating fast, I couldn't stop it. My hair full of grease, my forehead full of sweat. Footsteps stomped down the stairs, I knew that it was him. I heard the baby's cries fading, footsteps approaching me. I then heard footsteps rushing down the stairs. I closed my eyes, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. I paused for a moment, as though time had frozen. All I could think about were my two children. What were their names? I don't even remember. I don't remember my own children's names. I don't remember where they were taken, what their Father's name was, I just—All I could remember was the man's face, the way he stared at me like no other man had done before. I heard the woman's voices from downstairs, laughter and smashing of glass. I also heard men outside, laughing as I heard a woman outside panting and gasping for breath. Did she experience what I had just done? I wondered. What if my daughter had been raped? My girl. My baby girl. My little girl. I felt another tear roll down my cheek as pain filled my whole body. It hurt. Everything hurt. Not one part of my body was not numb. I looked down at my body, seeing cuts and bruises covering my arms and legs from the struggle of the attack. Were things ever going to be the same again? Footsteps approached me, rushing up the stairs.
"I'm sorry I didn't help you." The Wildling said as she aided my cuts with a cloth from the bucket of cold water which she had collected from the well outside in the Village.
"It's okay." I told her, "I didn't expect you to stand in anyway."
"Thank you," she began, "You're kind to me."
I noticed that the baby's crying had stopped, in which I responded to the Wildling with a smile.
"I have no reason to show any cruelty against you." I commented, smiling at her.
The Wildling continued to aid my wounds before said, "Gilly."
I stared at her puzzled, "Pardon?"
"My name." She explained, "My name is Gilly."
