JON
After hearing the truth from Howland Reed and his Uncle Benjen, Jon didn't know what to feel. The fact that his parents' love story was as close as a plot of some cheesy and tragic love story left him confused as heck. But choosing a suicide extraction mission as a distraction from his family problems was starting to feel like a bad idea.
Jon confronted his Uncle Benjen after his talk with Howland Reed. He wanted to be mad at him, at his Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat for not telling him the truth, changing his name, and for refusing to answer every question he had about his parents, but he somehow couldn't. These people had taken him in and raised him well enough to be the person he is today. He was thankful for them, but there's this inner resentment in him about being robbed of the truth.
He needed a distraction. So after, he ate some of his Uncle Benjen's bread pudding and drank hot chocolate, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
"And where are you going?" His Uncle Benjen asked.
"To Ygritte's," He replied as he clipped on a leash on Ghost's harness.
"There's a blizzard," Benjen reminded him. "It's probably a whiteout."
"I'm not gonna use a car," He defended. "I'm walking with Ghost."
"You realized your mother had died in a blizzard," Benjen brought up. "And she never listened to a warning she was given."
"I'm not gonna die," He promised. "And it's not a blizzard, just a snow shower. Nothing to worry about."
"No, there's an actual weather watch for a blizzard," Benjen said, pointing at the flatscreen. "See?"
"Uncle Benjen," Jon said as he put on his winter parka. "The Giantsbanes live four blocks from us. I would get there in like, ten, fifteen minutes."
His uncle gave him a sneer.
"And I'll be home after the 'blizzard'—," He said, quoting his fingers in the air. "—Passes."
Benjen shrugged. "Okay, go get 'em."
"See you later, Uncle B." Jon got out the door with Ghost and started walking.
The streets were mostly empty despite it being around four in the afternoon. And it's either because of the blizzard warning or it's way too cold to be out. Regardless, the streets were decorated in the spirit of Christmas, which happened to be several days away.
Garlands adorned the lampposts, fairy lights were twirled around the trees by the sidewalk, and few front lawns had some sort of inflatable either snowman, Santa Claus, or an igloo.
As he assumed, Jon got to the Giantsbanes' residence at approximately fifteen minutes. Their front lawn had an inflatable Santa Claus on the sleigh with reindeers pulling it.
He wasn't surprised as Ygritte's Dad, Tormund liked to decorate (sometimes, a little bit too much) and he always makes Ygritte help him, with it counting as one of their father-daughter bonding time.
Jon rang the doorbell, and Ygritte answered the door.
"Jon?" Ygritte said in surprise.
"Hi." Jon forced out a smile.
"What are you doing here?" She asked. "I thought you'd be in Winterfell until tomorrow."
"Yeah, about that," He sighed. "Something came up and I got away from there as fast as possible."
"Hmm, sounds like there's some juicy family drama," Ygritte guessed. "Come on in." She then knelt and scratched Ghost's chin. "Hello, Ghost."
Ghost barked softly and wagged his tail, acknowledging her presence. He didn't lunge at her, thankfully. Well, Ghost only does that with him. He's been trained in an obedience school at Castle Black enough to not jump at people and disciplined enough to not put him on a leash when Jon takes him on walks, but still huggable and will comfort you in times of distress. And if he would, Ghost is qualified and could be registered as a guide dog. All of his cousins agreed for Jon to enroll their dogs to be trained in obedience school ever since Robb started college.
The Giantsbanes definitely did some decorating inside. Garlands, tinsels, and Christmas ornaments were all over the place. And the place smelled of nutmeg, like actual nutmeg, and not of a scented candle his cousin Sansa liked.
"Wow," Jon said in awe. "Merry Christmas."
"It's too much, isn't it?" She said.
"Well, not as much as what Arya and Sansa had done in Stark Manor," He explained. "But close enough."
"Arya and Sansa worked together?" Ygritte asked like she'd misheard him. "That's gotta be some sort of miracle. I mean, they hate each other."
They walked towards the living room and sat on the couch. Ghost snuggled up on his lap as he and Ygritte continued talking.
"Well, it is some sort of miracle," He confirmed. "It's one of the two things they get along with, being the heads of the Christmas committee at Stark Manor and making fun of Rickon."
Ygritte narrowed her eyes curiously. "How do they make fun of Rickon?"
"Well, for starters, they call him baby brother," Jon answered. "And Rickon hates it."
She snorted. "Must be really fun to have siblings."
"They're not my siblings," Jon corrected. "They're my cousins—"
"They treat you like their sibling," She interjected. "You're luckier than most, you know." She cleared her throat. "Anyways, what brought you here?" She asked. "And do you want anything? Food or—"
"No, no, I'm good." He assured. "I ate before coming here."
"So, what's the tea?" She asked again. "You look like you're carrying the world on your shoulders."
Jon took a deep breath before speaking again. "Is your Dad here?"
He then felt a hard pat on his shoulder, making him jump.
"Of course, I'm here," Tormund spoke up. "It's Sunday."
Jon turned and saw Ygritte's dad with a smug grin on his face. But it was hard to take him seriously since Tormund was wearing a red reindeer sweater and a reindeer antlers headband.
Ygritte cleared her throat. "Dad, you mind?"
"Oh, of course," Tormund raised his hands in surrender. "I'll be in the kitchen making more eggnog." He then walked towards the direction of the kitchen and disappeared into the archway. Suddenly, he peeked his head out again. "And no sex on the couch."
"Dad," Ygritte said, turning red. "Please stay out of this."
Tormund once again disappeared from the archway.
Ygritte turned back to him. "So, where were we?" She said. "Oh, right. The tea. What is it?"
"Three large bombs have been dropped on me today." He revealed.
"Ooh, come on," She insisted. "Spill."
Jon took a deep breath before speaking. "Okay, so Bran run away with his girlfriend, I got to hear Howland Reed's side of the story about the last moments of my Mom, and the identity of my father."
He proceeded to tell her everything with him and Arya going to the Mormonts in White Harbor only to find Meera's brother looking for his sister as well, how they scoured every stuff Bran and Meera had left behind for clues as to where they are, but nothing. They ended up at the Reeds' home in Greywater Watch all because Jon wanted information his uncles couldn't give him, and of course, came out of there with way too much on his plate.
"So, how are you feeling?" She asked.
"Honestly, I'm not even sure," Jon admitted. "I feel like it's in the middle of being mad, confused, and overwhelmed. That's why I came here to—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ygritte stood from the couch and faced him. "I am not gonna have pity sex with you right now."
"What?" He said, mortified.
"You kids better use protection," Tormond yelled from the kitchen.
"Dad!" Ygritte snapped at her father.
"Sorry," Tormund replied back. "Staying out of it."
"What I meant to say was, I need a distraction," Jon said. "And to clarify things, it's not sex."
"What kind of distraction are we talking about here?"
Jon threw his hands in frustration. "I don't know, volunteer for buy-bust raids, scouting missions, anything."
"You do realize that Christmas is a few days from now, right?"
"I am aware," He said. "But after everything that's happened, I just want to stay away from my family for a few days."
Ygritte sighed. "Fine, I'll ask Sam tomorrow." She said. "But in case you forgot, you don't just volunteer for something, you get assigned to it."
Jon shrugged. "I'll take my chances."
She sat back down next to him. "Well, someone has to make sure you come back alive, so I'm going with you."
He frowned. "You're making sure I'll come back alive?" He snorted. "Please."
"I'm a sniper, it's my job to ensure the safety of my comrades by eliminating incoming threats."
Jon ended up staying at the Giantsbanes until ten at night as he was waiting for the blizzard to pass.
The following morning, Jon wasn't able to go to work. While he was eating breakfast, he got the call from Arya that Robb and Talisa were having their baby.
He nearly choked on his waffles. "What?!" He exclaimed.
"I'm not kidding, Jon," Arya replied. "They're on their way to the hospital right now."
"Okay, okay," Jon said as he hurriedly drank his coffee. "I'm on my way."
He grabbed his keys and went on his way. It took him two hours to get to Winterfell because of all the snow piling up on the highways.
Jon arrived at Northern Doctors Hospital in uptown Winterfell. Arya met him in the hospital's lobby and led him to the waiting area. Just outside the waiting area, he spotted Jory Cassel and several of their security personnel, which meant his Uncle Ned was there.
And he was right. Everyone was there, well, almost everyone. It was just his Uncle Ned, and his cousins, Rickon, who obviously had just woken up and just had to pick the first clothes he saw, put it on, and then went with them; and then Sansa and Arya—who are both in their corporate attires and were probably on their way to work. Bran was, of course, nowhere to be found and Theon was probably at work. His Aunt Cat was probably in the delivery room with Robb and Talisa since she's also a doctor.
Rickon frowned when he and Arya walked in. "Why are you dressed all formal?" He asked.
"I was on my way to work when I got the call," Jon explained. "How long have you been waiting here?" He asked.
Sansa checked her wristwatch. "Two hours." She said.
Arya huffed. "If it gets longer than four hours, I'm never having kids."
"Two hours is nothing, Arya." Their Dad said. "Out of the six of you, you took the longest time. Your Mom was in the hospital bed for twelve hours."
Jon snorted. "Wow, look at that, Arya," He said sarcastically. "Even in labor, you were procrastinating."
His Uncle Ned continued. "I think it's probably because you were born in a sac."
"What?" Jon and Sansa said simultaneously.
Rickon suddenly looked interested. "Wait, really?"
"Well, that explains everything," Sansa said. "I mean, she's—"
"You're on fucking thin ice!" Arya snapped. "I'd choose my next words carefully if I were you."
"Well, case in point." Jon snorted.
Arya's annoyed expression turned into a glare.
Sansa snapped her fingers and pointed at Arya. "There! Right there! That is how they described it."
Arya frowned. "I'm supposed to pull your hair or something, but I'm too confused."
"If I may," Rickon spoke up. "It's mostly linked to all the superstitious beliefs that babies born in a sac are tough as nails, destined for great things, and are good with anything related to water."
"You're turning into Bran, baby brother." Sansa pointed out.
"It was discussed in Anatomy class." Rickon insisted.
"Hmm, anything related to water, huh?" Jon wondered. "I guess that's why you're a multi-title holder in the water-dancing type of fencing."
Arya grunted. "Okay, how in seven hells did this become about me?"
Before any of them could answer, Robb stepped into the waiting room. And he was smiling wide.
"You guys, he's here," Robb announced. "My son is here."
They all squealed in joy.
"Can we see him?" Sansa asked. "Please?"
Robb led them into a private room, where they were probably transferred. Talisa was on the hospital bed. In her arms, was the newborn baby boy. Two other people were in the room with her, his Aunt Catelyn and the midwife, Mordane—yes, that's her actual name.
According to his Uncle Ned, Mordane was present when they were all born. When his Aunt Cat had complications while in labor with Sansa, Mordane was the only one who had calmed her down. Since then Aunt Cat had insisted that Mordane should be in the delivery room when she gave birth to her next three children. And also, when his Mom, Lyanna had given birth to him.
His Uncle Ned went to stand beside Aunt Cat and placed his arm around her. Both of them were smiling as Sansa, Arya and Rickon were cooing at the baby in Talisa's arms.
"Aww, he's so cute," Sansa said as she gently touched the baby's hand.
"What's his name?" Rickon asked.
Robb and Talisa exchanged glances.
"His name is Brandon." Robb blurted out.
Right after Robb revealed his son's name there was some tension in the air. Everyone was quiet for a moment. Like Robb conveniently named his son after his younger brother who turned his back on their family and ran away with his girlfriend a few days prior.
"Speaking of Brandon," Mordane spoke up, unintentionally and thankfully breaking the tension. "You're all here and he's not. Where is he?"
"Oh, uh," Arya cleared her throat. "He's at work. He went there early, and I believe he's in a meeting because he's not answering his phone."
Of course, leave it all to Arya to save them from having to explain the real reason why Bran wasn't there. Out of all six of them, she was the best one and the master of making up excuses.
"So he's…little Bran?" Sansa guessed.
Robb made a face at her. "I guess, yeah." He announced, then wrapped his arm around Jon's shoulder. "What does his godfather think?"
"Well, technically," Jon said. "I don't have a say in this because he's not my kid. But I'm not complaining."
"Yes," Robb smiled. "And besides, who else would be a godparent to my son?"
Right after Robb said that, his three younger siblings present complained simultaneously.
"Excuse me?" Sansa frowned at Robb.
"What in the seven hells?" Arya glared daggers at him.
"Wow," Rickon crossed his arms and shook his head in disappointment.
"Oh, come, on," Robb waved them off. "You can be godparents to little Bran's younger brothers and sisters someday."
Jon chuckled. "Well, like I said, it's an honor." He declared. And it really is, no question.
They all took turns carrying the baby. And by the time little Bran was in his grandfather Ned's arms, Jon's phone rang.
Jon pulled his phone from his pocket to see that it was Ygritte. He excused himself out of the room to answer it.
"Hey, what's up?" He answered.
"Really? That's what you're gonna say?" Ygritte said on the other line. "Where in seven hells are you, Stark? You're supposed to be here hours ago."
Oh, right, Jon thought. He was supposed to meet Ygritte in Castle Black Military Base so she can help him find his 'distraction', but he completely forgot about it when Arya told him Robb and Talisa were having their baby.
"I know," He replied. "But there was sort of, a family emergency. Robb and Talisa had their baby."
"Aww, tell them congrats," Ygritte said, then her tone turned serious. "Anyways, I asked Sam about your supposed voluntary intentions on whatever missions are available."
"And?"
"And you're in luck," Her tone was skeptical. "Well, I wouldn't say luck, but there's a mission available. There's no assignment to this, just purely voluntary. And also, even if you want to go, I doubt your Uncle Benjen will allow you."
"Oh, fuck what he has to say," He argued. "I'm going and he can't stop me."
"No, Jon, you don't understand," She sighed. "It's—you know what? It's better if we talk about it in person. Just get here as soon as you can."
"Alright, fine," Jon promised. "I'll be there. But I'm making no promises on what time I'll arrive because there's a blizzard."
Jon didn't stay long in the hospital as he said he had other business waiting for him in Castle Black.
. . .
Ygritte was waiting for him by the reception area. But what tipped him off was that his girlfriend was pacing back and forth and kept fiddling with her hands. Things she only did when she's nervous or worried about something.
"Jon," Ygritte called out when she saw him.
"Hey," Jon gave her a peck on her cheek. "What's up?
Ygritte made a face at him. "Well, you're not gonna like what I'm about to tell you."
Jon chuckled. "Try me."
"I doubt that," She said. "Let's talk about this in your car."
"Why?"
"Because I don't think we can discuss this properly in the reception area of Castle Black Military Base." She pointed out. "People will think we're fighting over something."
Jon obliged. They got out of the building and got into his car, which was covered in snow.
"Oh, gods, your car is a mess," She said mockingly. "Where in seven hells have you been?"
"Winterfell," He answered, opening the car's shotgun door. "Robb's son was born and there was a blizzard. That's why it's covered in snow." He gestured for her to get into the car. "Just get in."
Jon sat on the wheel while Ygritte was on the shotgun.
"So," He started to say. "What do I need to know?"
Ygritte cleared her throat. "Remember the voluntary assignment I told you over the phone?"
"What about it?" He asked.
"It's Operation: Bloodraven." She blurted out.
"What?" He exclaimed.
Operation: Bloodraven was carried out about a month ago. Their objective was to retrieve and rescue Brigadier General Brynden Rivers, who had led a raid beyond the Wall and was captured by enemy forces. One company was dispatched to rescue him but, well, it ended on a sour note. Every single soldier who was part of that mission was either missing, killed, or captured by the Wildlings. (Wildlings is what they call the members of the terrorist group, Free Folk) If any of them survived at all, they should've returned to Castle Black. But so far, no one did. All their current statuses were only marked missing in action or M.I.A.
"Yes," She confirmed. "And apparently, they're dispatching troops again to finish what was started."
Jon placed his hands on the steering wheel, gripping it nervously.
Ygritte gripped his arm, giving him a little comfort. "You remember what happened to those dispatched to rescue General Rivers, right?"
"Yep," He said, staring out the car's windshield. "None of them returned."
"Right, the question now is," She said. "Are you sure you still wanna do this?" She asked.
Jon hesitated for a while, before making up his mind. "Yes."
Ygritte slapped his arm. "Are you out of your mind?!" She shrieked. "Jon, that mission is suicide. Sure, it pays us well, but…" She faltered. "I can't even find the right words to finish that sentence."
He turned to her. "Hey, I'm doing this." He insisted. "I wanna do this."
"Oh my gods," She cussed. "How far are you gonna go just to make your uncles tell you the truth about your parents?"
"This isn't about them, okay?" He argued. "This is about me getting away from my so-called family for as long as possible."
"And volunteering for a rescue operation is the only solution you can think of?"
"No," He admitted. "Well, it's complicated."
"You understand that we're dealing with a life or death decision, right?"
"Of course, I do."
"You're out of your mind," Ygritte sighed before speaking again. "Alright, fine. If you're going, then I'm going too."
"What? No!" Jon countered. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."
"Jon, we've talked about this yesterday," Ygritte reminded him.
"I'm not forcing you to come with me."
"You're not," She said. "It's my decision. But honestly, I'd feel more comfortable going on a mission with you rather than stay home and be worried all the time."
"What about your Dad?" He asked. "What would he say?"
"He's probably not gonna be happy." She explained. "But hey, I chose to join the military on my own merit. Besides, he raised me to make my own decisions."
Jon made a face at her. "I think he's gonna kick me in the nuts because of this."
Ygritte shrugged. "There's a chance, yes. I wouldn't worry about it." She said. "But enough about that, how is your uncle taking this information?"
"Technically, I don't think he knows about my intention to join," He said. "And I haven't told him yet."
Before Jon joins a mission or approves after being assigned to one, he always asked advice from his Uncle Benjen first, to know more about the levels of danger he's putting himself into. But this time, he didn't.
"Well, you're in it for a treat when you get home." She said.
After discussing, they went back into Castle Black and formally volunteered to be part of the mission. They were told that the mission will be done in collaboration with the Westeros Police Force Black Operatives and the Westeros Military Black Operatives to heighten its success since they would be venturing into enemy territory. The mission briefing would be on the following day because General Mormont, with President Baratheon's approval, had to deploy the black operative troops before the Christmas holidays.
. . .
Jon went back home in the Gift. And as expected, his Uncle Benjen was waiting for him in the living room.
Benjen Stark was still in his service uniform, holding a mug of hot chocolate with Jon's dog, Ghost curled on the carpet by his feet.
"Jon," Benjen stood as soon as he saw him enter.
"I know what you're trying to do, Uncle Benjen," Jon interjected, then walked past him towards the kitchen. "But you're not gonna change my mind."
Benjen followed him. "You don't know what you're signing up into."
"It's Operation: Bloodraven," He blurted out. "And yes, I do know."
"And I'm sure you know that that mission is suicide."
"It's not suicide," Jon insisted. "The first mission failed, yes. But it's maybe because they gave the wrong intel during the briefing. Those deployed are…not at fault."
Honestly, it's what Jon's been telling himself ever since he officially volunteered for Operation: Bloodraven. That the intel given was wrong and that the military officials were to blame for allowing it to happen.
"You're saying it's our fault?" Benjen asked.
"I did not say that." He countered.
"It's clearly what you mean." He pointed out. "You do know I was against it. General Mormont never authorized it because we're risking the lives of troops just to save one person."
"But it got through," Jon argued. "If Jeor Mormont didn't approve, then Robert Baratheon did? I don't get it."
"It's Thorne," Benjen explained. "That idiot petitioned for a rescue mission motion to be passed. He had other military officials go directly to the commander in chief and did a little convincing. That's how it got approved."
Colonel Alliser Thorne was never Jon's favorite person, even during his cadet days in the military academy. Sure, he barked orders louder and was stricter than most officials, but Jon could feel that he was singling him out from the rest of his class. During Jon's first two years, he always called him a bastard, until the 4-Star General Jorah Mormont was walking by and heard him, which had to step in.
It was basically music to Jon's ears when 4-Star General Jorah Mormont berated Alliser Thorne in front of the class. Colonel, we do not call the cadets insulting names, he had said in a hushed tone but they all still heard it. It's in our code, you of all people should abide by that.
After Jorah Mormont left, Jon could feel Colonel Thorne's glare at him. Then when they got back to the barracks, his roommate Samwell Tarly explained his theory of the things he knew. That Alliser Thorne was a diehard Targaryen supporter and practically loathed Robert Baratheon, and since Jeor and Jorah Mormont, and even his own uncle Benjen Stark all outranked him, he's taking out all his frustrations on Jon.
I don't get it, Jon had wondered. What does it have to do with me?
If I remember my History right, Sam had said. The Starks were the reason the Targaryens were ousted. Aerys had your uncle and grandfather killed.
Benjen Stark's rant brought him back to reality. "That idiot should be leading the mission since it was his 'brilliant' idea after all." He quoted his fingers in the air.
"So why didn't he?" Jon asked.
Benjen sat back on his chair. "Because his arm suddenly got broken two days before deployment." He explained. "I don't believe that's a coincidence. And since no one returned from the assignment, he basically chickened out of taking charge."
"So are you also afraid because no one came back?" Jon asked curiously.
Benjen sighed. "Honestly, yes," He admitted. "If you don't come back…it'll be on my conscience forever. Your mother will roll in her grave and who knows what your Uncle Ned's gonna do."
"It's the life we chose, Uncle," Jon said, sitting across from him. "It's the life I chose. Allowing me to attend the Academy means you already supported my decision, whatever the case."
Benjen made a face at his nephew. "Godsdammit, I hate it when you're right." He said. "You really are your mother's son. You know she tricks and convinces me into doing stuff when we were young, the same way you're doing to me right now."
Jon managed a chuckle. "Don't worry, Uncle Benjen," He assured. "I will come back, I promise. When I do, I'll be taking my well-deserved break. And hopefully, you can help me fix Uncle Ned's problem with Howland Reed."
"Whoa," Benjen raised his hands in surrender. "I am not getting involved in that again. That's why I'm here, up North, minding my own business."
Jon frowned. "Wait, what do you mean again?" He asked.
"I was in the middle of their…falling out, you could say," Benjen recalled. "And believe me, I've tried to patch things up, for your mother's sake. But nothing, Ned refused to believe any reason otherwise."
"What would make him listen?"
"At this point, I'm not sure anymore." Then Benjen's eyebrows furrowed. "Hold on, are you doing this because of everything you learned from Howland Reed and your cousin eloped with his daughter?"
"It's a lot more than that, Uncle Benjen," Jon pointed out. "I don't want us holding grudges on people who didn't even do anything. It's bad enough we already have restraining orders against the Boltons after Ramsay's rampage."
Jon wasn't home in Winterfell when Ramsay had snuck in throwing the entire Stark Manor into chaos, but he remembered coming home the next morning with police cars and an ambulance parked at the carport.
"I will fix this when I get back," Jon vowed. "I just wanna be away from all this for a while."
"That's what this is about?" Benjen countered. "Then don't go to Winterfell on Christmas," He suggested. "Stay here. Or spend it with Ygritte. Go someplace, in another region or out of the country."
"Yeah, that's the thing," He said. "Ygritte's coming with me."
"By the gods, Jon!" Benjen cussed.
"She volunteered to go with me," Jon reasoned out. "And I can't stop her from going the same way you can't stop me."
"Does Tormund even know about this?" Benjen asked.
"I'm not sure, and there's a chance he'll threaten me about it too so," He shrugged.
"Yep, you're definitely Lyanna's son," Benjen concluded. "Stubborn as the seven hells."
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
. . .
The following day, the briefing was held. On the way into the briefing room, Jon noticed Jorah Mormont arguing with his younger cousin, Dacey. And if he had to guess, Dacey had volunteered for the mission as well, and Jorah was convincing her not to.
Ygritte was already seated on one of the chairs in the conference room, along with several other people all dressed up in their black camouflage uniform.
Jon gave Ygritte a peck on her cheek. "Hey, ready to face danger?"
Ygritte raised an eyebrow at him. "We're in the military and in the black ops, we eat danger for breakfast."
"So, how did your dad take the news?" He asked.
"I'd say, pretty well," She replied. "He took a deep breath, calmly said, Alright, go get 'em! Then started yelling, what are you thinking?! He then ranted for about twenty minutes before he calmed down again. But you know, it happens every time I get assigned to dangerous missions."
"But you didn't get assigned," Jon corrected. "You volunteered."
"I know, that's why his rant was longer."
Eventually, every volunteer entered the briefing room and there were about sixty-ish of them. Jon didn't expect they'd be more people after no one returned. And it's sad to think that not everyone in the room will return. But well, it's the life of a soldier.
General of the Army Jeor Mormont was present at the briefing. But clearly, he wasn't happy that he had to debrief several volunteers to a suicide mission. Or maybe it's the fact that his own niece, Dacey Mormont had volunteered and his son, Jorah was convincing her to back out.
Jon didn't blame them for being worried. Dacey's father was also in the military, and he had died in action right before Dacey's youngest sister, Lyanna was born. Well, it's exactly why Jon didn't tell his family in Winterfell. They'd totally disagree for sure and find a way to postpone it or something. Especially since his Uncle Ned is very good friends with the Commander in Chief. His Uncle Benjen still found out, but there isn't really anything he can do to stop Jon from what he wanted to do.
General Jeor Mormont first announced that the Black Ops of the Westeros Police Force will be joining forces with them in the mission. Then he allowed Colonel Allister Thorne to take over, with General Mormont himself only jumping in, answering the questions from the volunteers.
Thorne was the one mainly briefing them, with his arm was in a bright yellow arm sling. Jon didn't know if it was intentional to wear it while also wearing his black service uniform, but they'll never know.
They were shown a map on a projector screen. Col. Thorne informed them where they would find the safest and most dangerous routes to the Free Folk's hideout through the haunted forest to the Frostfangs.
"After the death of Mance Rayder," Jeor Mormont interjected. "One of his right-hand lieutenants stepped in and became their new leader." He pointed at the projector screen as a photo of a clean-shaven bald man in his forties appeared. "Styr Thenn, of clan Thenn. One of the many clans united by Rayder to form the Free Folk."
"Aren't the Thenns cannibals?" One pointed out. "Like the ones who used to live in Skagos?"
"That's right, sergeant," General Mormont agreed. "And they still are. They eat the flesh of their fallen enemies."
Jon leaned in and whispered in Ygritte's ear. "This briefing is gonna make me sick."
Col. Thorne then went on to talk about where they might be keeping General Brynden Rivers.
"I don't understand, sir," Brandon Tallhart spoke up. "They could've just killed him. But why keep him as leverage?"
"If they kill him," Col. Thorne informed. "They know we'd attack their hideout so they'd have to move elsewhere. And it's not easy to find shelter further north. If they did let him go, they know we'll have more than enough intel to eliminate them all."
"So he's leverage, but for what?" Ygritte spoke up.
General Mormont cleared his throat. "He's leverage in exchange for Sigorn Thenn," He pointed back to the projector screen where another photo of a young man with thick black hair. "He's Styr Thenn's son. Our forces were able to capture him during one of our raids and while he was apparently on a supply run. We keep interrogating him for intel, but so far he's never said anything useful."
"They're holding General Rivers," Dacey Mormont asked. "Because we captured Sigorn Thenn? Okay so, it'll be an exchange then?"
"No, Lieutenant," Col. Thorne said. "It's not gonna work that way."
"But we have leverage against them," Dacey argued. "Why aren't we using that?"
"Lieutenant—" Col. Thorne started to say.
But Dacey Mormont was on a roll. "How do you expect the Wildlings to just hand in General Rivers when we have nothing against them?" She demanded.
Colonel Thorne turned to Jeor Mormont with a look that says, Is your niece for real?
"Answer the question, Colonel," Jeor Mormont simply replied.
Jon noticed that Colonel Thorne sighed deeply like if he was facing cadets in the academy, he'd probably be yelling right now. But he restrained himself because the person he would yell at is the 5-Star General's niece.
Ygritte stifled a laugh. "Damn, I should've brought a camera." She whispered.
"Dacey's got a point," Jon whispered back. "It's ridiculous."
Colonel Thorne cleared his throat before answering back. "We have a man from the inside," He explained. "He's been undercover for years. He's the one giving us intel." He took a deep breath. "Now, are there any more questions?"
Jon raised his hand.
Col. Thorne acknowledged him. "Yes, Captain Stark?"
"Sir, are we given the same exact briefing as the Alpha Company?" He asked.
"Yes, of course," Col. Thorne assured.
"So we're basically going in blind, again?"
"Like I said, Stark," Col. Thorne said, now obviously annoyed. "We have a man from the inside. So if you're worried about this intel being unreliable, don't be."
"Then why is this mission volunteers only?"
"Captain," Col. Thorne said in a steely cold tone. This time Jon could tell he's already angry for asking a stupid question. "It's voluntary because the first ones deployed never returned."
"Exactly, sir," Ygritte spoke up. "How do you expect us to accomplish what Alpha Company didn't if we're given the same briefing?"
"Alpha Company was ambushed by the Wildlings," Col. Thorne recalled. "And I was about to brief you the plan in case of ambushes, but you started bombarding me with questions."
Col. Thorne proceeded to brief them in case of an ambush. He directed them on where to go and what to do. And if all else fails, they should not hesitate to retreat back to the Wall.
. . .
They were deployed beyond the Wall, in the early morning of the day before Christmas. They were all dressed in their white winter camouflage armor complete with Kevlar vests, rifles, and helmets. They were also equipped with three tanks because it was quieter for transport and defense than helicopters. As for their eyes above, they have drones for scouting ahead.
His Uncle Benjen came to see him before their Company left.
"Good luck," Benjen said as he hugged him. "You'll need it. And please, come back alive. I never told anyone in Winterfell you volunteered for this mission."
"I will, Uncle, don't worry," Jon promised, then pulled a folded white envelope from his pocket. "Also, if anything happens to us out there, please give this to Arya."
Benjen reluctantly took the envelope from him. "What's this?" He asked.
"Something that will keep Uncle Ned from waging war against you, the Commander-in-Chief, or the entire Westeros Armed Forces."
"Why give it to Arya?"
"Believe me, Uncle Benjen," Jon said. "Arya's one of the only people who can make Uncle Ned listen."
"Hmm, good point," Benjen agreed. "She's like your Mom in many ways. It's kind of a weird coincidence."
At the corner, Jon could see Tormund coddling his daughter Ygritte, and Jorah Mormont talking to his younger cousin, Dacey, probably wishing her luck.
They were identified as Wolf Company with three platoons, each with twenty people, twenty-one if you include the platoon leader. The initial plan was that each platoon would follow different routes and rendezvous at Crasters, a small town a few kilometers from the Wall, so they could scout and give changes to their strategies to further their success.
All three platoons were to head to Crasters separately. The 1st platoon was led by Jon himself, since he was Captain, and would assemble at Castle Black. The 2nd platoon was led by another military captain, Thoren Smallwood, and would start at the Nightfort (One of the four of the nineteen castles in the Wall that was renovated and turned into the Westeros Military Academy). While the 3rd platoon consisted of the Westeros Police Force Black operatives led by Police Major Mallador Locke and would assemble at Shadow Tower Airbase.
A few moments later, the tunnel through the Wall at Castle Black was opened and it was time to go. Jon's platoon took the route on the right flank with one tank.
Thankfully, the 1st platoon contained most of Jon's friends, including his girlfriend, Ygritte, and then there was Dacey Mormont, Brandon Tallhart, Waymar Royce, and Eddison Tollett to name a few.
Now, trekking in the snow in their white winter camouflage armor, Jon felt like a Snowtrooper on Hoth scouting to find the Rebel Base.
Their platoon managed to reach Crasters. It's a literal small rural town with permanent snowy weather. Its buildings were mostly made of wood and stone, and its roofs were as steep as that of spires on top of skyscrapers. And now, Crasters suspiciously had only very few people walking about the streets.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Jon said.
"Stop quoting Star Wars," Ygritte complained.
"No, seriously," He insisted. "Something doesn't feel right. It's like the calm before the storm."
Jon grouped his platoon in groups of three and ordered them to spread out across the outskirts of the town. "Report whenever you see anything suspicious." He said.
He had two comrades with him, Eddison Tollett and Brandon Tallhart, and they headed toward the town's Central Plaza.
"We shouldn't do anything brash," Edd spoke up as they walked. "Alpha Company disappeared in this very town. And for all we know, the Wildlings are already waiting for us."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Tallhart said. "It's like we're being fed off to the predators. I can't believe Colonel Thorne got General Mormont to approve this shitty assignment."
Edd frowned at Brandon. "Then why are you here?"
"Because Dacey volunteered," Tallhart reasoned. "There's no way I'm letting her go by herself. If something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself."
"Dude," Jon said. "You sound just like Ygritte when she insisted to come too."
Edd scowled. "Does that become a thing when you have girlfriends who are also in the military?"
"That depends," Jon admitted. "The level of danger is a key aspect."
The Crasters' Central Plaza, by comparison, was probably one-fourth the size of the area of Stark Manor's Hedge Maze. There's not much except less than ten trees, a few benches for people to sit on, around six street lamps, and piles of stone rubble because apparently, this town got raided by Wildings a lot. The town's tallest buildings were only three storeys high with its tallest is the bell tower of the Sept, all of which are surrounding the Central Plaza.
Jon, Brandon and Edd sat under one of the trees in the Central Plaza. With their white winter camouflage armor, they easily blended in with the terrain. They could lie down on the snow-covered ground in broad daylight and no one would know they were there unless they really look.
Just then, his radio buzzed. "Captain," A voice said. It was Ygritte. "I see the 2nd and 3rd platoons approaching."
Jon's radio buzzed again. "Captain Stark," A male voice spoke up. "This is Captain Thoren Smallwood of the 2nd platoon. We're approaching Crasters. Over."
"Acknowledged, Captain," Jon responded.
A little while later, Police Major Mallador Locke of the Westeros Police Force checked in, informing Jon that they are almost at Crasters.
Suddenly, there was a loud explosion, followed by a series of gunshots.
The very few people in the streets scrambled and immediately ran to hide. And in less than a minute the streets were deserted.
"Take cover!" Jon told his comrades.
All three of them docked behind piles of rubble and the protruding roots of a tree with their heads down.
"Seven hells," Tallhart cussed.
Jon pulled his radio close to his mouth. "Does anyone have eyes on where the explosion happened?"
"Captain Stark—" Someone answered. Jon could hear gunshots through the radio. "It's Smallwood. One of my men stepped on a mine!" Another explosion could be heard. "We need—agh!"
"Captain Smallwood," Jon called in. "Thoren, come in."
There was no answer.
"Captain," Another voice reported. It was Waymar Royce. "Our drones have eyes on the explosion. It happened around six hundred meters Southwest of Crasters. And…" He faltered.
"And what, Royce?" Jon asked.
"The 2nd platoon was ambushed by the Milkwater River, sir." Royce blurted out. "The Wildlings were waiting for them."
Jon decided to contact the 3rd platoon leader. "Major Locke, come in." He called.
His radio buzzed. "Captain Stark," Major Locke answered. "We changed course from our original route to assist the 2nd platoon and…holy shit."
"What is it, Major?" Jon asked.
"I can see the 2nd platoon, sir," Major Locke informed. He could feel a slight tone of sadness in his voice. "They're…gone. I'll have my men check for survivors."
"Alright, Major," He said. "Update me if you find anyone."
Jon slumped in his hiding place. It's happening again, he thought.
"Why the long face, Stark?" Edd asked.
"Dude, the 2nd platoon is gone." He blurted out.
"What?" Both Edd and Brandon exclaimed.
"What about the 3rd platoon?" Tallhart asked.
"They arrived too late for back-up," Jon said. "Major Locke said he'll search for survivors."
"Oh, gods," Tallhart sighed. "This is what I'm afraid of."
After a few minutes, Jon decided to contact Major Locke again. "Major, come in," He called. "Did you find any survivors?"
"That's a negative, Captain," Locke replied. "No one survived the ambush. We're pressing forward to Crasters. Over."
Just as Jon got off from the radio, another loud explosion was heard and this time, it was closer. And it was again followed by a series of gunshots.
Then Jon's radio buzzed. "Captain," It was Major Locke. And Jon could hear gunshots through the radio. "I believe we may have walked right into—get down, Sergeant—a trap! They were waiting for us."
"You need to get out of there," Jon suggested. "Now."
"But sir, the mission—"
"Major, I know very well that you do not want any of your men to suffer the same fate as the 2nd platoon." Jon pointed out.
"What are you saying, sir?" Major Locke asked.
Jon sighed. "We'll have to abort the mission." He said. "Go back to Shadow Tower Airbase. Inform them of what happened here."
He could hear Major Locke sigh. "Roger that, sir."
"Great, now what?" Edd asked.
"We need to abort the mission," Jon told his comrades.
"Abort the mission?" Tallhart repeated. "Dude, we're already here."
Jon turned to him. "Yeah, but we can't take all the Wildlings with only twenty people." He reminded him. "Plus, we don't have back-up anymore. The 2nd platoon was wiped out and the 3rd platoon had to retreat."
His two comrades were at a loss for words.
"We are the only platoon who reached the rendezvous point." Jon pointed out. "I'm not risking all of our lives, and for what?" He put his radio near his mouth. "1st platoon, check-in."
Once he has everyone's ears, Jon announced. "Guys, we're aborting the mission."
"Jon," Ygritte spoke up. "We're already here. Why don't we just finish what was started."
"We don't have the strength in numbers," Jon explained. "We're not familiar with the terrain and the Wildlings could be planting a ruse if we press forward."
"Uh, Captain," Waymar Royce buzzed in. "We've got suspicious activity east of your position."
Jon, Edd, and Brandon turned east. He could see two figures from afar, walking in their direction.
"I got a visual," Ygritte said on the radio. "Two civilians approaching, a woman and a boy. Just outside of the town."
"Civilians?" Jon repeated.
"Or undercover Wildlings," Edd said. "Who knows?"
"Wildling or not," Jon said. "What in the old gods are they doing out there?" He shrieked in disbelief. "Is anyone close by?"
"I'm at the edge of town, sir," Lieutenant Pypar spoke up. "I can get them to safety." He volunteered. "They have visual contact."
"Wait, Pyp, wait!" Ygritted screamed through the radio. "The woman's arms aren't swinging." She informed. "I think she's carrying something under her coat—no, she's slowly pulling it out, but I can't see it."
"Oh, shit," Dacey Mormont cursed through the radio. "I see them, Giantsbane, she's holding grenades.
"What?" Jon asked like he'd misheard her.
"Grenades!" Dacey repeated. "She has maybe five or more and she's giving it to the boy. Pyp, get out of there!"
Jon sighed. He hated giving out this order. "Eliminate the targets."
"Copy that." Both Ygritte and Dacey replied.
He could hear two silent shots from sniper rifles and saw the two figures from afar suddenly fall to the ground. Then an explosion happened on the same spot and it was close enough to make his ears ring.
"What was that?" Jon demanded.
"The grenades they were holding exploded," Dacey reported.
Then the multiple rounds of gunfire started, that's when everything went downhill. They spotted Wildlings on the town's entrances with rifles and a stolen tank.
"1st platoon!" Jon ordered through his radio. "Head to the central plaza to the building across the Sept now!"
"How do you know it's a safe place?" Edd asked.
"I don't," Jon admitted. "But that bell tower is easily spotted when you're anywhere in the town."
Jon led Edd and Brandon through the Central Plaza with their rifles ready.
"Edd, duck!" Brandon said urgently.
Edd did as Brandon asked and fired at several Wildlings chasing them.
"Stark, watch your six!" Edd screamed as he aimed at a sniper on one of the buildings and fired, making the Wildling sniper fall off the ledge and to his death on the ground.
Suddenly, Brandon winced and fell to the ground.
"Tallhart!" Jon crouched beside him while Edd covered for them. There were drops of blood on the snow and it turned out Brandon was shot on his left leg. "Oh, fuck."
"You guys go ahead," Brandon insisted, gripping his rifle. "I'll slow them down."
"No!" Both Jon and Edd said in unison.
"We are not leaving anyone behind," Jon persisted. "You'll make it." He grabbed one of Brandon's arms and wrapped it around his shoulder while he held Brandon's side for support. "Now, come on." He then turned to Edd. "Cover us."
Jon helped Brandon walk the very few meters to the building across the town's Sept with Edd covering for them. On the way, they could see their four other comrades, Lieutenants Royce, Pypar, Dareon, and Todder. They were following his orders and went for the building across the Sept. And the fact that Ygritte wasn't with them, was starting to bother him.
Waymar Royce stepped forward. "Our drones were shot down by the Wildlings, sir." He reported.
"We have bigger problems, Royce," Jon countered. "We're surrounded." He studied his comrades and noticed they were only a few. "Where are the others?"
They only looked down and sighed.
"Sir," Pypar spoke up. "We saw Albett and Halder being gunned down by snipers," He said. "Satin and Blane were killed when the grenades brought by that woman exploded. We don't know about the others, sir."
Jon nodded. "It's alright," He assured. "At least you're all here."
"So what's our next move, Captain?" Royce asked.
Jon took a deep breath before saying anything. "Honestly, I don't know." He admitted. "I'm still—"
"Stark, watch your six!" Royce warned, drawing his rifle and pointed it at someone behind Jon.
"Wait, wait," A voice shrieked from behind him. "It's me, it's me!"
Jon turned and saw a guy about his age, holding his hands up in the air. He had a pistol on one hand and he was covered in mud and snow. At first, he thought the guy was a homeless street wanderer. Then he noticed he was wearing a similar white winter camouflage armor, only it was faded and covered in mud, to the point that it was almost brown than white. The guy had disheveled brown hair, like had just rolled out of bed, and his face was covered in dirt.
Jon's eyes widened when he recognized who it was. "Grenn?" He said in disbelief. "Holy shit! You're alive!"
Lieutenant Grenn was one of his friends, way back in his days in the academy. Last he checked, Grenn was part of the Alpha Company, one of the first ones who were deployed to find and rescue Brigadier General Brynden Rivers. And the last news they ever heard about them was that they disappeared here in the town of Crasters, ambushed by the Wildlings.
And now, he's here, alive and still in one piece. But how?
"Look, there's no time to explain," Grenn said. "But if you want to live another day, and escape the Wildlings, you'll have to follow me."
"And why would we do that?" Edd demanded.
"I'm not the only survivor from the Alpha Company, you know," Grenn revealed. "There are others too. And if there's anything I can do now, it's to prevent those Wildlings from massacring soldiers like me in this gods' forsaken frozen tundra."
"Alright," Jon agreed, removing Brandon's arm from around his shoulder. "Dareon, take over and help Tallhart. The rest of you follow Grenn."
"What about you?" Brandon asked.
"I'm staying here," He said. "There are still others out there."
"If you're staying, then I'm staying as well." Brandon insisted. "Dacey's still out there."
"Tallhart, you're wounded," Jon reminded him. "You'll be more of a liability than help if you stay out in the open. Besides, that wound of yours needs to be treated." He put his radio near his mouth and contacted Ygritte. "Giantsbane, do you copy? Where are you?"
"Captain," Ygritte answered. "I'm still up on the high ground. Wildlings are starting to surround the perimeter of the town and—Mormont, snipers at two o'clock!"
"Dacey!" Brandon screamed, trying to stand on both feet but stumbled and Dareon caught him.
"Hold on," Jon assured, then contacted Dacey. "Mormont," He called. "Mormont, you there?"
"Stark," Dacey responded, her breath becoming shallow. And Jon could hear the silent sniper shots on the stone parapet Dacey's probably hiding behind. "I'm pinned. Jeren is out, and I'm black on ammo. I need back-up!"
"Giantsbane, where are you?" Jon asked.
"I'm three buildings away from you." Ygritte pointed out. "I can see you from where I am."
Jon started looking around the nearest buildings to see if he could spot Ygritte.
"There!" Edd said, pointing at a two-story stone building whose windows were all broken.
Ygritte waved her hand at them. "Mormont's on a red brick building on the next block. It's not easy to miss. It's the only red building out there."
"Do you see Mormont?" Jon asked.
"Yes," Ygritte said, making her sniper rifle turn 180° to her right. "She's crouched behind the parapet. I'm locating the snipers who pinned her now."
"Okay, when you located the snipers, eliminate them," Jon ordered. "And once you do, get out of there. We're going to get Mormont."
"Roger that, Captain." Ygritte agreed.
Jon turned back to Grenn. "Grenn, get the others to safety." He insisted, then turned to Brandon. "Don't worry, Tallhart, Edd, and I will get Dacey to safety."
"I'm going with you," Pypar volunteered. "And you'll need a few grenades for a distraction."
"Alright," Jon agreed. "And nice touch on the grenades, Pyp."
"I'll be back to get you, Stark," Grenn promised. "Just make sure you guys actually come back."
"We will," Jon then turned to Edd and Pypar. "Let's move."
On the way, to Dacey's location, Jon contacted Ygritte again. "Giantsbane, how are we doing?" He asked.
"There were two of them," Ygritte reported. "I killed one, but the other one ran. Don't worry, I'm following him. He's on the building across from Mormont's location—and…I got him."
"Good," Jon approved. "We'll take it from here. Now, get out of there."
Jon ran towards Dacey's location with their rifles ready. About halfway, they were spotted by three Wildlings on the street.
"Son of a bitch!" Jon cussed as he pulled Edd and Pypar behind an alley for cover. He turned to Pypar. "Pyp, you're on. Throw 'em a welcoming gift."
Pypar smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, Captain." He then pulled a pin on a grenade before throwing it in the Wildings' direction.
It exploded two seconds later.
Jon peeked onto the street. "We're clear."
All three of them had to kick down the wooden door to the red brick building Dacey Mormont was in since it was sealed by a wooden beam. The wooden stairs were creaky and had broken steps that were barely holding.
They found Dacey at the roof deck. She was leaning against the parapet, still clutching her sniper rifle, but she had her head down like she was unconscious. A few feet from her, was Jeren, and he was lying on his side with his back to them.
Jon then noticed the blood on Dacey's shoulder. "She's hit," He said, then turned to his comrades. "Someone check on Jeren."
Pypar approached Jeren and gently tapped his shoulder, but he was unresponsive. He turned Jeren flat on his back and found that he has blood smeared right on his chest.
"Sir," Pypar looked down. "He's gone."
Jon sighed then approached Dacey and knelt by her side. He gently cupped her face, hoping to wake her up. "Dacey," He called.
Dacey awoke instantly, sitting bolt upright, then winced and held her shoulder. "Ow!"
"Dacey, calm down," Jon assured. "It's okay."
Edd examined her wound. "It's a good thing it only hit your shoulder."
Pypar frowned at him. "How is being hit considered good in the first place?"
Before Edd could say anything, Jon interrupted. "Guys!" He scolded. "Now is not the time to bicker about this."
"Right, sorry," Edd apologized.
Jon turned back to Dacey. "Hang in there, Mormont," He reassured. "We'll get you to safety. Can you walk?"
"Yeah," Dacey said as Jon helped her stand. She looked around, clutching her wounded shoulder. "What about Jeren?" She asked.
"He's gone," Pypar informed as he offered to take Dacey's rifle while she continued to put pressure on her shoulder.
"Most of our men are gone," Edd added.
"And Brandon?" Dacey asked with a shaky breath.
"Shot on his leg," Jon said. "But he's fine. Now, let's go before the Wildlings search the entire town for survivors."
They could've brought Jeren's body with them, but truthfully, they don't even know a way out of town, so what they had to do now was prioritize the survivors.
Ygritte was waiting for them in the same alley they hid earlier. "Come on!" She gestured for them to go faster.
They were met by Grenn at their rendezvous point right across the Sept.
Ygritte and Dacey did a double-take when they saw Grenn waiting for them. "Grenn?" They both said in disbelief.
Grenn simply sighed. "I'll explain later," He promised. "Right now, we need to disappear before the Wildlings find us."
No one questioned Grenn as he led them behind that building across the Sept. He kicked a brick wall and it gave way, like a hidden, secret door. Its length is about a meter from the ground and also about a meter wide.
It felt like the entrance to Diagon Alley in Harry Potter. They had to crouch down to enter. Inside was a dark, narrow tunnel, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Grenn led the way holding a small flashlight as their only source of light. They followed the tunnel for a few meters then went down a flight of stairs before making several turns.
"I didn't know this town had a maze of tunnels underneath," Jon spoke up, trying to lighten up the mood.
"We didn't either," Grenn pointed out. "We were desperate for those Wildlings to not find us, so we had to hide somewhere. Noye found it by accident."
"Noye is with you?" Edd asked. "That guy's immortal, I'm just saying."
Jon specifically remembered Major Donal Noye because of his missing arm. Basically, his left arm was only up to his elbow. He lost it to frostbite while on a tracking mission in the Kings of Winter Mountain Range a decade ago. Noye was permitted an early retirement due to him becoming an amputee but he refused it because he wanted to retire at the proper age of retirement.
There was one part of the wall that has a slab of metal used as a door. Grenn approached it and knocked in Morse Code, OK.
The metal slab was obviously so heavy two people had to carry it to make way. Their hideout was like an underground pillbox military bunker.
Their bunker was bare. And it was probably just as large as his bedroom in Stark Manor, minus the bathroom. There was a wooden bench, a table, and a few small crates probably containing food and medical supplies. Five sleeping bags were also laid on the cobbled floor. Their sources of light were two fluorescent lights, which are obviously just installed there.
Jon could see the other survivors from Alpha Company besides Grenn. There was Major Donal Noye, the battlefield medic Chett, Captain Jarmen Buckwell, and Sergeant Jaremy Rykker.
Noye was in one corner, eating military rations, while Rykker was fixing one of the fluorescent lights. Buckwell and Dareon were the ones holding the metal slab to let them in. Their other remaining comrades, however, were holding down Brandon Tallhart who was on the table and being treated by Chett.
Brandon had the trousers on his left leg raised to his knee, then Chett tied a makeshift tourniquet an inch above the knee to keep the wound from bleeding too much, then had his leg elevated as it was leaning on a small crate.
"Come on already, Chett," Brandon said. "Just get it over with. I don't—"
Brandon was interrupted by Chett placing something in his mouth. "Bite on it, kid." He said, pulling out some sort of tweezers and dousing it with alcohol. "I ain't gonna lie, this is gonna hurt."
"You better make it fast, Chett," Grenn spoke up. "There are other wounded survivors as well."
"Of course, there are," Chett said without looking back at Grenn. "I don't have to be surprised."
Dacey noticed Brandon lying on the table. "Brandon?" She called out.
Brandon's eyes widened when he saw her. He reached out his hand and muffled something they couldn't make out because of the piece of cloth Chett placed on his mouth.
Dacey ran to him and held his hand. "Oh, my gods!"
Chett frowned at her. "You his girlfriend?"
"Um, yeah," Dacey replied.
"Good," Chett gently tapped their intertwined hands. "You're gonna be his moral support, literally." He approached the part where Brandon's wounded leg was. "Alright, Tallhart, one, two, three."
Brandon closed his eyes and screamed as Chett pulled out the bullet from his leg. Dacey held his hand while others held him down.
"Ha!" Chett beamed. "Got it!" He held up the tweezers with the bloody bullet shell in them, then closely examined it. "Hmm, it's a cartridge of an M-16 rifle."
Brandon removed the gag from his mouth with his other hand. "Is the wound that bad?"
"Can't say," Chett informed. "We don't know if it hit any bones. You need real medical attention when we get out of here."
"Oh, great," Brandon said without enthusiasm. "And when will that be?"
"Once, we get out of this labyrinth," Edd spoke up. "Because there's no way in seven hells are they gonna send another rescue party."
Dacey rolled her eyes at Edd. "Good to know your sense of humor survived the ambush, Edd."
Ygritte and Todder were helping Chett treat the wounded. Jon didn't even notice he had a gash on his chin until Ygritte dabbed a clean cloth on it.
Later on, Jon set up Brandon's sleeping bag and helped him settle down, and elevated his leg. "Get some rest, Tallhart," He said. "You'll need it."
Brandon nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Stark."
Chett was incredibly disturbed by Dacey's shoulder wound. "The bullet went through your body," He pointed out. "And seeing that you have difficulty raising your left arm, only means it went through your shoulder blade." He then made a makeshift arm sling for her before having her settle down on her own sleeping bag next to Brandon.
After treating the wounded, most of them decided to rest and dozed off as quickly as they lied down on their sleeping bags, which were scattered around the small space. The others who were awake namely, Major Noye, Captain Buckwell, Edd, Ygritte, and Jon himself, decided to exchange stories to pass the time.
Jon sat on his sleeping bag, which he had prepped just a foot by Brandon Tallhart's head. Ygritte sat beside him and she was leaning onto him, with her head resting on his shoulder. Major Noye sat on his sleeping bag, with his back leaning on the adjacent wall to Jon's. Captain Buckwell sat on one of the tables just by Major Noye's sleeping bag and swung his feet like a little kid. Edd was sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag, which he placed by Jon's feet, and was facing both Major Noye and Jon.
"So," Jon spoke up. "You've been hiding down here for a month now. Why didn't you return to Castle Black?" He asked.
"A month?" Jarmen Buckwell gasped. "Wow, I can't believe it's that long."
"Really?" Edd frowned at him while munching on a ration. "How could you not tell?"
"We're only equipped with watches," Buckwell reasoned. "Not calendars, Tollett. And I'd save up on those rations. We don't have much supplies down here."
"As for returning," Donal Noye spoke up. "It's not as easy as it sounds. Originally, there were nine of us here. But four of us were killed by snipers when they were spotted in town blending in with civilians."
"Yeah, we don't go out everyday," Buckwell pointed out. "Because we'll never know if Wildlings are still searching for survivors. But occasionally, one of us goes to check out what's happening up there. It's mostly to gather food and medical supplies, and some news. But instead, Grenn brought in more people. Not to offend you guys, but seeing that you came to Crasters and got ambushed," He sighed. "Means, we are gonna be here for a while."
"We'll have to make do with what we have," Major Noye insisted. "It's the only choice. They're obviously not deployed to rescue us or to find survivors, but they're sent here to finish the mission we're supposed to do. Am I right?"
"Yeah," Edd nodded. "It's been a month and no one returned to Castle Black. Everyone pretty much assumed you were missing and/or killed in action."
"This mission is suicide," Major Noye said. "They should know that by now. They'll be idiots if they send more people. And it made me wonder why they wanted to sacrifice our lives just to save one."
"General Rivers is a respected man," Jon insisted. "He's a skilled strategist and war hero. He was the one behind the Fist of the First Men raid, killing the Free Folk leader Mance Rayder. And he holds classified military intel—"
"There, right there," Major Noye interjected. "Why does Bloodraven know so much about the Free Folk, huh? He knew where to strike, where to go and not go. Doesn't that make you suspicious? Also, the Free Folk never did anything until Aerys Targaryen was ousted."
Brynden Rivers is sometimes called Bloodraven because of his red raven-shaped wine stain birthmark that ran from his right cheek down to his neck.
Major Noye cupped the end of his amputated arm. "It also makes me wonder how this mission is approved for a second time, you know."
"Well," Jon said. "According to Uncle Benjen, Colonel Thorne went directly to the Commander-in-Chief to have it approved."
Major Noye cussed. "That son of a bitch should be the one up for early retirement and not me," He said. "I may be an amputee, but I'm more useful than he has ever been. Thorne probably broke his arm on purpose so he won't be able to go."
"Yeah," Buckwell agreed. "I bet he picked a bright yellow arm sling on briefing day to practically announce that his arm was broken and that he couldn't go."
"Oh, my gods!" Ygritte exclaimed. "He did the exact same thing during our briefing."
Major Noye chuckled. "You shouldn't be surprised anymore, Giantsbane." He said. "Your father was very vocal about how he doesn't like Thorne."
"Oh, of course, Major," Ygritte said. "You don't have to tell me."
"Does Thorne always do that?" Buckwell asked. "You know, make a plan and have others execute it?"
"Oh, yeah," Jon confirmed. "Make a plan, get someone else to do it and if they fail, it's their fault alone. It's his pattern. He used to do that to me while I was a cadet in the academy."
"But whatever the case," Major Noye huffed. "If we get back to Castle Black in one piece, I'm petitioning for that guy to be dismissed from service."
"I'm with you, Major," Buckwell agreed. "I've seen enough men and women die because of his insistence."
"Hey, hey!" Dacey spoke up. It turns out she had awoken from her slumber. "As much as I agree with all you hating on Thorne, how about planning a way out of here?" Her voice was calm, too calm like she's in a dreamy state.
"Uh, Dacey, sweetie," Ygritte called out, in a calming tone. "You need to rest and gather your strength first, okay?"
"I already have, Giantsbane," Dacey countered. She tried to move her left arm, and she flinched. "Godsdammit! How long have we been here?"
Jon checked his wristwatch for the time. "It's only several hours." He said.
Dacey groaned. "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."
Edd glanced at the fluorescent lights. "How did you guys get lights down here?" He asked.
"Oh, Rykker has a degree in Electrical Engineering from UWH," Major Noye pointed out. "He's the one who installed the lights, with the few supplies we salvaged around town."
"Hey," Dacey spoke up again. "My sister Jorelle has one too. She works at Stormbreaker Telecom—."
"Dacey," Ygritte interrupted. "You need to rest, seriously." She turned to the others. "How many painkillers did Chett give her?"
Edd shrugged. "Just enough to probably knock her out so she could get some sleep." He said. "Apparently, it wasn't strong enough."
"Hey, Edd, I'll rest once we get out of here," Dacey insisted.
"Well, it could be a few days," Jon said.
Dacey sat up. "Wha—Ow!" She clutched her left shoulder. "What? You have to be more specific, Stark. How many days are a 'few days'?"
Jon made a face at her. "Okay, maybe a couple of days," He said. "Like a week."
"Or two," Ygritte added.
"Oh my gods," Dacey lied back down. "I can already hear my Mom screaming at my Uncle Jeor." She then drifted back to sleep.
"Oh, yeah," Major Noye said. "I keep forgetting she's General Mormont's niece."
"Yeah," Buckwell agreed. "And the Stark boy is the governor's son. What are the odds?"
"Actually, I'm his nephew," Jon corrected.
"What?" Buckwell frowned.
"I'm Ned Stark's nephew," He said again. "Not his son."
"I thought you were Benjen's nephew."
"I am," Jon confirmed. He turned to Ygritte, who looked too curious than surprised to intervene. He then cleared his throat. "Ned and Benjen Stark are my uncles. My Mom was their sister."
Donal Noye and Jarwen Buckwell exchanged nervous looks.
"So you're Lyanna Stark's son?" Major Noye asked.
"Yeah," Jon nodded. "My Uncle Ned sort of adopted me after my Mom died. Wait, you knew my Mom?"
"I don't really know her," Major Noye admitted. "Back when Rickard Stark was governor and when he would give some speech in public, I would often see her right beside him." He said.
"What about your Dad?" Buckwell asked.
Jon shrugged. "I haven't really known him and I don't even know if he's still alive."
Well, that wasn't technically a lie. Jon knew his father's name and it's Rhaegar Targaryen, but he didn't know him personally. He didn't know about his whereabouts or if he's even still alive. And it sucks to know he's a love child of two feuding families.
Suddenly, Jon's wristwatch beeped. He checked and the time said 00:00. "Well, it's midnight," He said. "Merry Christmas, you guys."
Edd huffed. "I can't believe I'm spending Christmas in an underground tunnel within enemy lines."
"It's the life we chose, Edd," Ygritte said. "Let's just be thankful that we have shelter, supplies, and are not immediate targets. Trust me, I've been in worse situations than this."
Edd frowned. "On Christmas?" He asked.
"Oh, yes," She recalled. "It was in a patrol mission in the Kings of Winter. We were given a tip on a few rebels hiding in the area, in the blistering cold. And we can't light a fire because it'd give away our position."
"How about I take first watch?" Jon volunteered. "You guys should rest."
"No, you should rest, Stark," Major Noye said. "You've been through a lot today."
Jon shook his head. "No, even if I lie down, I won't be able to sleep."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Major Noye assured. "You've saved more people than you know."
"Nah, you go ahead." He insisted. "I'll just take the first watch."
"Well, I'm not refusing to that, Stark," Ygritte gave him a peck on his cheek, lied down beside him, and closed her eyes. "Good night."
Once everyone else was asleep and his companions were snoring, Jon pulled out the only memento he brought with him under his PASGT vest: a picture of his family. The picture showed His Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat sitting on a couch, with his cousins Arya and Sansa on either side of them and the rest of the boys standing behind the couch they're sitting on. They were also standing from eldest to youngest from Robb on the left, then Jon himself, Bran, and Rickon on the right.
It was also the same pic his Uncle Ned put on calendars for his supporters and followers and on the billboards near the capitol in Winterfell with its tagline, Seasons Greetings from the Stark Family!
Now, he's wondering how they're taking the news of him being missing in action. With him being there at the moment was probably a devastating blow in his family's face. And with Bran also gone, they're already missing two people this Christmas.
Hopefully soon, they can find a way out of there, go home and take a well-deserved sabbatical.
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I'm so very sorry this took a while. I was supposed to upload this last Christmas with the next chapter at the same time, but a typhoon hit my hometown and there was no electricity for three months. The next chapter's already on the editing phase, so I could upload it soon. Thank you for your patience! Stay tuned! :)