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Special Shout-outs to LoneNight and Zulu86 for putting this story on their communities. I don't know what that means, exactly, but I'm tickled by it.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not the genius behind A Song of Ice & Fire, nor one of the ones behind Rise of the Guardians. All I own is my own insanity, which I claim proudly and fully blame for this convoluted mess.

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Chapter Eighteen: THE WATCHERS ON THE WALL

The wind was colder than normal, biting through their cloaks as they kept their watch atop the Wall. It blew down from the north, howling mournfully through the haunted forest before racing up the sheet of ice to slap at their faces. It seemed almost to be speaking to them, begging them to come, to help, to do something. They did not trust this wind; it made them uneasy.

They were even more suspicious when it stopped its wailing, whipping about in gentle puffs, carrying the faintest traces of warmth up to their frigid post. It switched its course, pushing at them from the south, trying to tug their attention to the northern waste, asking them to look.

It was one of the knights who noticed first, Stannis's man left to guard the queens – both red and wed. He was freezing his skin to his polished armor just so he could say he stood where the world ended, gazed down at the end of civilization from the top of the Wall. It would make a grand story when he returned to the south. Of course, they knew better. Night's Watch or not, no one left the Wall alive. Not really. Still they should have been paying more attention.

"What's that?" the knight had questioned, drawing them from their stupor as they waited for day to fade into night. There was little difference, making it a tedious wait. It was more with annoyance than interest that they followed his polished finger as it pointed out into the forest.

"Gods be good," someone muttered. It seemed a peculiar thing to say, unless it had come from one of the knights. They all worshipped the Seven; most of the Night's Watch had strayed to the old gods or held none at all. And seeing as how the weirwoods were glowing blue, blowing snow up into the air, it was doubtful the old gods had anything good to offer.

Pyp leaned against the wall, peering out over the forest. As far as his eyes could see, patches of blue light shone brightly, giving a purplish hue to the red leaves that stuck up out of the pine. "What do you think it means?" he asked, looking to his sworn brothers on either side. Grenn shrugged and Dolorous Edd huffed, spitting over the edge into the snow.

"Probably that the white walkers are on the move," the older man grumped. "Same color as their eyes, ain't it. Even if that ain't what it means, I can guarantee it ain't gonna be nothin' good."

There was a clanking of armor as Stannis's knights began their descent, running off to inform their red queen. The remaining watchmen rolled their eyes, surprised to find how few of their number had been in this particular patrol. Aside from the three of them, only Satin remained, gawking a few feet away. "Oi, close your mouth," Grenn yelled to him. "Your tongue will freeze."

They all shared a laugh at that, the novelty of the glowing trees already wearing off. They'd seen so many strange things, it would have been a disappointment if the weirwoods didn't shoot light into the sky. They stamped their feet, moving as a group to stand closer to the small fire pit that provided warmth. None of them noticed the bird that landed on the ice, peering at them with intelligent blue eyes. It wasn't until it spoke that they realized it was there.

"What are you called, watchmen?"

All four jumped, startled, and it was Grenn who overcame his shock first, pulling his sword and swinging it at the bird. The large black eagle dropped out of the way, winging up higher into the air, watching them warily. It paid special attention to Satin, watching the young man edge for his bow and arrows.

"Brynden will be unhappy if you harm his bird, watchman. I come with a message, but I must know if you are whom it is intended for. What are the four of you called?"

Pyp raised a hand at Satin and gestured for Grenn to stow his sword. "That voice…you're that thing that took Jon Snow." The other three looked at him like he was mad. Maybe he was, but he recognized the bird's voice. The eagle eyed him, and Pyp could have sworn it looked annoyed.

"'Thing?' Did you just call me a thing? Be glad I am not actually here, watchman, or you would find your underthings frozen to something quite unpleasant."

"Way to go, Pyp. Piss off the talking eagle some more, why don't you?"

"Shove it, you great smelly aurochs."

The eagle laughed, startling them once more. "Pyp, is it? And the aurochs must be Grenn. Would the two of them be Satin and Dolorous Edd, then?"

No one answered, but Pyp noticed Satin nodding automatically. "Stop it, you idiot," he hissed too late. The eagle had noticed and was chuckling again.

"Good. Just the ones I'm looking for. Yes, I took Jon Snow. He was not safe here and I have no use of him dead."

"He's alive then?" Grenn questioned.

"Shut up and let me finish. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to cram your mind up inside a bird's. The expression isn't birdbrained for nothing. Yes, Jon Snow lives. The Night Watch knows that the war of Westeros is nothing compared to what lies in the north. I will delay them as long as I can, but when winter falls, the Others will move, and the Wall will not be enough to hold them. Jon trusts you. When he returns, and he will, you will need to get him safely to the sea and deliver him to a man named North. You will probably know him when you see him. Can you do this?" There was a moment's hesitation, but then the four of them nodded. "Good. One more thing."

The eagle landed, cautiously walking towards them. When no swords were swung, it stuck out a foot. A curl of paper was tied to it. Grenn knelt down and removed it, flattening it against the ice. A crudely drawn map was sketched across the paper. "What's this?" Dolorous Edd asked.

"This is merely the final battle of a very long war, watchman. Those who came before you have fought this foe, but most of their knowledge has been lost to you. This map will lead you to a storehouse that will help you battle the Others. It's warded in magic, but I trust at least one of you is smart enough to get through. Or at the very least, the four of you combined are smart enough." The bird flapped its large wings, lifting itself into the air again. A gust of wind carried it high above their heads. "And watchmen; do not involve the red woman. She means well, but her 'god' is no friend to man. Please heed me. If she plays any part in this, Westeros might fall into a darkness that will never pass."

Silence reigned as the eagle flew off, disappearing into the darkening sky. Only the faintest blue glow still clung to the nearest weirwood trees and shuffling footsteps could be heard as the next watch ascended the wall. Hastily, Grenn shoved the map into his pocket, stretching his hands over the fire, sharing a look with the other three. All of them smiled slightly.

Their friend was alive.

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A/N: *slaps self* A month?! I made you guys wait a MONTH? I am so sorry. I went to the beach, and my brother was home on states leave, and then I had some breakdown moments while I was coming to terms with him getting deployed next month. On top of which, we're understaffed at work at the moment so my schedule's been packed and there's been graduations and vacations and people not wanting to cook for themselves and 50 cent ice cream, which we HAVE to have in the summer for some hellish reason, and my mom's out of town, so I'm taking on her yard business for at least two weeks. Plus, you know, the standard instances of writer's block and the muse playing hide-and-seek. This turned out a little different than I imagined, but I like it. Got a little bit of Jack-snark in there. He's had to be so mature and responsible in this story that I felt he deserved a bit of teenage sass. Plus, the muse decided to sneak in and plant a plot seed. Let's see what will grow out of that. Until next time, my lovelies!