Title: The Journey of Ice
Summary: "Cut your hair. Run. Don't look back. Be Safe." Were Alice Tully's father last words to her.
Genres: Romance/Action/Drama/Angst
Rating: High T
Fandom(s): Game of Thrones
Pairings: Jon Snow/Oc and Robb/Oc
Warning: Violence, Language, Sexual Content, Death
A/N: Hello, everyone and welcome to the next chapter of The Journey of Ice. Sorry it had been along wait x.x. Thank you to those who had reviewed, favorited or alerted this story J and thank you for your patience.
I do not and will not own GOT. I just own my own original characters and the plot line.
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"T-Thank you." Alice Tully smiled nervously up at him, but somewhat troubled.
Jon Snow froze.
His smile had dazed him.
"You're welcome."
ALICE TULLY
It was still strange all these months being on the run surviving by the inch of her teeth. She had missed her once long brown haired, now her haired was mere inches above her shoulders making her easy look like a man or a boy far distance at most.
Her body was still lean and small compare to the other men, but she had managed to hide the most obvious parts of herself in layers of clothes making her look more than small boy who haven't reach puberty.
The practice duel a few days ago waved heavy on her mind. She was easy disarmed. That was expected, seeing she had barely lay hand on a blade before.
The man that helped her….the man who had saved her…Jon Snow, was what he was called, had welcome her under his own wing.
When he blocked the blow that was meant for her, made her feeling awestruck for the stranger who stood up for her without even knowing who she was or pretend to be.
The practice duel also made her realize something else. She couldn't fight properly with a sword, and in a place like this she would end up being dead….or even worse if the stories about The Wall were true enough.
Sir Alliser Thorne haven't really messed with her since that day, but instead focus all his attention on Jon.
Thorne seemed to have a very severe grudge on the lad, anyone didn't even know why. The most obvious reason was because he was a bastard child of a noble family.
Alice picked up the pair of the Commander's boots and placed them on her lap, grabbing a rough dirty rag with some grease she began her work.
It was many of her chores, since her talents didn't include heavy lifted or even sword fighting there was almost little for her to do, except to take up doing the most domestic jobs. They didn't need a cook, and she didn't know how to melt or forge any iron. So that left her with cleaning out the chamber pots, cleaning, and washing clothes or lien.
It wasn't ideal but it seems to earn her keep. She worked on the boots for a while and soon she can actually see a little of her reflection. A smile appeared on her lips and it was soon washed off when the boots on her lap was jerked away before being thrown onto the dirt ground.
Anger almost seized her completely, when she glance up at the person who had dare to do that to her.
It was one of the older members of the Watch. The ones that already took their pledge. He had long slimy wavy brown haired and he wore worn out leathers.
He had the most leery sneer on his face to her that send chills down her spine. She saw him around the keep, and heard of his reputation from Sam, who had kindly turn to be her friend.
He was charged with many crimes and the most famous one was of murder and rape. He had kidnapped some noble woman from a wealthy house and raped her. When he was done with her, instead of asking for a ransom he slit her throat and threw her body into the lake that almost surrounded King's Landing. He was only charged, and found out was when a witness came forward telling of the night that he saw him carrying the woman off.
"You missed a spot runt," Joshua Davidson taunted. She fought the urge to rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, but instead reached for the boots that were on the ground.
Not answering him was her mistake and soon she felt his cold rough hands around her throat pushing her up and against the wall behind her.
"You think you're safe here, with the bastard hovering all around you, but the truth is that you're not. Not from me." His grip tightened and she placed her hands around his arm trying to push his grip off of her, gasping.
He smirked at her struggle, before his eyes trail down the skin of her neck in the most lechery way. His eyes darkened with some kind of lust but she knew it all the same.
There was no women here at the wall. They weren't allow to stay, and many of the men haven't set eyes on one for many years and they often resort to comforts from one another instead.
Finally founding strength, she swung her leg up between his legs hitting him hard. He cowered, his grip on her neck was lost and soon a sheik left his lips in pain. Anger and a murderous look was place on his face a few seconds later.
Alice only had a few seconds to react, to defend herself. She couldn't run, she wouldn't get very far and there was anyone nearby. Hopefully, the noise would draw someone's attention and they come to investigate but until then…
He lunged to her, "You dirty bastard!" her hand slid down her own boot and slip out a very small knife, in quick second she swung up. The blade of her knife reached it's target and another howler of pain washed over the room.
Blood dripped from her knife and Joshua backed off holding his hand to his chest.
Heavy foot-steps echoing down the hall fast and soon the room was surrounded by three high-ranking members of the Night's Watch.
Most of them looked enraged, except one who looked very amused looking at the scene.
A small boy, managed to wound a guy double his size.
"What the bloody hell is going on here!?"
JON SNOW
The small lad that arrived just few days sat down in front of them during dinner was rather quiet. He placed his small bowl of brownish soup in front of him but he haven't pick up his spoon to eat.
Jon had already finished his helping, a few minutes ago waiting for the lad and for Sam.
Alexander Wilson wasn't acting normal. He was usually an upbeat person and went after his chores headstrong, but somehow he just sat there staring at his bowl.
That was when he saw it, the purplish marks around his neck. It was like someone had choked him. Lay a hand on him. A wave of no profound anger wash over him and he managed to bit it down.
Why was he so mad at this fact? Men around here often get in many fights.
He was about to asked him what was troubling him but those words never left his own lips, but instead a different set of words came forth.
"Who is it?"
His eyes looked up from his bowl and to his own face, heat flush the lad's cheeks and then he looked away seemed unsure what to say or to do.
He was about to repeat himself, but stopped when the lad answered his question. The name fell from his pale thin lips, the name of someone who will strongly regret laying a hand on this boy….that he care- He halted his thoughts from there.
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