Tormund tromped through the Wolf's Wood to where he'd heard the whistle of a successful hunt. He grinned at the sight of Doval and the marsh girl Meera, standing bloody but alive over a direwolf. "You bleed'n out?"
"Nay." The man wiped the blood from his face. "Damned beast nearly took ma' head off."
Meera Reed yanked her spear out of the beast's heart. "Not the elk we thought we were hunting."
"It's got a good hide, and a beast that big will taste just as sweet as any elk." Tormund chuckled, some of these southern women had proper fire in them.
The girl snapped her spear to the side, blood splattering across the snow, her eyes wary as she looked around the forest. "Wolves hunt in packs, and direwolves belong on the other side of the Wall."
"Aye, Bay of Ice must be beginning to freeze over." He slapped Doval on the shoulder as he looked at the great beast. "Next one's mine if there's a pack. My woman could use a wolf skin pelt."
Doval checked his bowstring. "Ya have to steal her 'for she's your woman."
"Brienne would rather stick you with her sword than let you bed her." Meera scoffed only for her eyes to narrow. "Did you hear that?"
Tormund raised his hand, Doval and Meera falling quiet. And there, he heard the deep chuffing sound. He grabbed his axe. "BEAR!"
Doval spun, putting himself behind Tormund and Meera as he notched an arrow. Meera swung her spear up, dropping into a crouching stance, eyes flicking for the threat.
There was a great roar that shook the air.
And then a huge white bear crashed through the brush, charging them.
"Fuck." Doval hissed drawing back his bow and firing at the bear.
Tormund roared right back as he braced himself because a fucking spear, axe, and one bow was a gamble against a full grown polar bear.
The bear reached him first with a great swing of its paws. Tormund tried to throw himself to the side, but the monster was fast. He went flying, his chainmail keeping claws from piercing his belly. His back hit the snow hard as he rolled.
Hauling himself up, he grabbed his axe and charged for where the bear was being held at bay by Meera with her spear, Doval sinking arrows into it.
Tormund let out a yell as he lept, sinking his axe into its neck.
It reared up with a roar of pain. He fought, twisting his axe through gristle, veins, and muscle. The beast staggered, its sounds turning to groans and then gurgling moans before it collapsed into the snow. Bright red blood spilled across the white snow.
Tormund planted himself and wrenched his axe out of its neck. Lifting it high above his head, he put his whole body into it and swung it up above his head before bringing it down in a great arc and lodging it into the creature's skull.
Panting he looked up with a wide smile at his two companions. "Think Brienne'll like a bear pelt?"
Meera dropped onto her ass in the snow, her chest heaving. "It's dead."
"Aye, nothin' is gonna survive an axe in the brain." He chuckled as he surveyed the area. "Land's gettin' wild again here." His teeth showed as he grinned.
Doval grunted as he moved to gut the wolf. "Least it's not spiders. I hate spiders."
Meera ran a hand through her hair. "I'd hope to have seen the last of these things when I got to this side of the Wall."
"Winter is settling in girlie." Tormund kicked at the bear's gut. "Dark things are comin, and wishing won't keep them away." He chuckled at her expression that said she was considering stabbing him. "Now come help me gut the bastard."
She crawled back onto her feet. "Shouldn't I get a fire going so we can signal the horses to come to us and take our hunt in?"
"In a bit. You're not saying you're squeamish over a little blood." His grin grew at the girl's look of absolute disgust as she yanked out a knife. Yup, she had fire in her alright.
Tormund straightened, his back cracking satisfactorily. "I'll do a loop and make sure we don't get another surprise."
He ignored the grunt from Doval and the sharp glare from Meera. They weren't the only predators about, as their kills could attest to. He stepped with as quiet footfalls as he could manage through the snow. It was cold, would only get colder. Examining the ground he looked for tracks.
As he was about to loop back to his companions for this hunting expedition he paused. He'd heard the tiniest growl. Turning he used his axe to push some foliage away.
A streak of reddish brown lunged out from under the bush, its tiny needle sharp teeth latching onto his boot.
"Huh." He chuckled looking at the wolf pup trying to savage his foot. Reaching down he grabbed it by the scruff and lifted it. Tormund looked it in the eye. It'd be a kindness to kill it, might make a pouch or something from its hide. But…he watched it snarl and snap at him, struggling against his hold.
Tormund shook his head and walked back towards the kill site, the colored smoke signally the horses to come and collect their kills already rising above the trees. And in his hand was the pup.
/
Alys Cerwyn, recently Karstark, found that riding into Winterfell wasn't terror inducing this time, as it had been before. Her marriage made her safe. As she and her husband rode through the gates and into the courtyard she spotted a man clearly awaiting them.
"Lord and Lady Cerwyn." He stepped forward, catching the reins of her husband, Cley Cerwyn's horse.
Cley dismounted. "Bower, what are you doing out here?"
"The Queen apologizes for being unable to greet you and asks that you attend to her solar as soon as you are able." Bower passed the reins to a stable boy.
Alys felt a flicker of surprise at that, as she allowed her new husband to assist her in dismounting. Not that she couldn't do it herself, but she did not intend to stop his protective hovering. "Does she wish for just my husband or for both of us?" Her hand laid on her husband's forearm.
"Both of ya, M'lady." Bower tipped his head to her.
Clay nodded. "We'll go immediately, the household can take our things to our chambers." He waved to their handful of men at arms to see to unloading the cart they'd brought with them. A large party wasn't necessary with how close their home lay to Winterfell. He gave his soft, slightly unsure smile to her. "Shall we?"
"Of course, we can't keep the Queen waiting." She slipped her arm through his, pleased at how he automatically began to lead them into Winterfell.
She'd been in Winterfell as a prisoner, returning as a guest made all the difference. The great walls and bustling halls no longer felt oppressive. Alys held her head up, the double headed axe of House Cerwyn stitched into her dress. And, the black and silver of House Cerwyn were not so different from the black and white of House Karstark. "Do you know what her Grace wishes to speak with us about?"
"Nothing from her letters." Cley replied, though he nearly hadn't needed to. After all, he'd shared his letters with her as with the war near their doorsteps she needed to be prepared to run their House in his absence when the day came. A day that would come soon.
Alys hummed and squeezed his arm slightly. Their marriage was so new, she knew what they had was not love, and likely never would be. But she found she was fond of her husband and would see to it he remained fond of her as well. It was more than she could have hoped for.
Her eyes hit upon the two royal guards standing on either side of the Queen's Solar. Their green cloaks and grey gambesons with iron wolves in the various metal clasps about their persons were distinctive though not ostentatious. A line their Queen walked very well. One of them was the surviving Stormlander, Rebkin, or something like that. The guards spotted them and knocked on the door before opening it.
Cley walked them past the guards with all the confidence to know his Queen wished to see him, and of his place in her court. He bowed as soon as they entered. "Your Grace." Alys dropped into a deep curtsy beside him.
"Please rise." Sansa Stark gestured for a servant to step forward with bread and salt. "It's good to see you both here again."
Alys accepted the bread and salt after her husband.
"Has something happened?" Cley asked as soon as he'd swallowed down the symbol of hospitality.
Sansa's face had the faintest flicker of humor. "A great deal and nothing at all. I wished to speak with you about two things principally."
"Of course." Cley agreed immediately. "What do you need?"
The Queen lifted a stack of paper and passed it over. "Dragon glass should be arriving in Whiteharbor soon. According to my council, the best use for it is as arrowheads, spear tips, and daggers. I would place you in charge of coordinating the effort. Whether we need to move it to Winterfell and then onto our forces or prepare it in Whiteharbor or any other option I do not know. Look at the numbers and requirements and prepare the three options you find most efficient and bring them to the small council meeting in four days' time."
Cley brimmed with pride at being asked to see to so important a matter. And it was important, horribly so. "Of course, I'd be honored to aid in this matter, your Grace."
"Good, the other request I have is for Alys actually." Sansa's eyes turned to her. "If you will, I could use a woman of your intelligence among my ladies in waiting?"
Alys felt her throat tighten. Her House had been traitors. Her husband while loyal and trusted was not of a powerful House. And yet… "Your Grace, I would be honored but surely there are more suitable ladies?"
"You underestimate yourself." The Queen replied easy as anything.
And well, it was an honor she had no interest in turning away from. It would seem she would not be sentenced to merely preparing clothing and blankets for the deepening winter. "Then it would be my honor."
/
Arya spun a dagger between her fingers, her feet resting on top of the table in the King's Hall. Quite frankly the endless procession of various idiots here to see her sister taking turns coming in was rather boring. She perked up slightly at the sight of two guards escorting a man in, and being led by one of the Knights of the Vale. At least that promised to be interesting. She really should have tried buying lunch for a whore. It'd have been more productive.
"Your Grace." Ser Vardis Egen gave a boringly perfect bow to her sister. The man was square, plain, and grey.
Sansa spoke. "Ser Vardis, what brings you before me?"
"This man impeached your honor unforgivably." Ser Vardis gruffly stated. "His…music was unacceptable."
Sansa's eyes turned to the man. "Am I correct that you are a bard?"
"Aye, your Grace." The poor, faintly scruffy bard bowed a bit too enthusiastically. His wide eyes were locked on Sansa. "I didn't mean any disrespect, it's…not like that. I'd never say anything against you, your Grace. I just the rhyming of the original ditty was so good, I only made it more proper."
Arya wondered which one of the various songs that were going around this poor idiot had written. She was fond of the one about Sansa riding an eagle. The rhyming was terrible, and the metaphors crude but it was hilarious.
Sansa had a spark in her eye that said she was amused. Arya doubted anyone else had noticed. Her sister waved one of the guards forward. "Get this man his lute, I'd rather just hear the song instead of listening to an argument about it."
"You should not need hear such a thing, your Grace!" Ser Vardis protested in sheer horror. Hilariously the poor bard looked like he utterly agreed and wanted the ground to swallow him.
Sansa waved off the concern. "A song is not going to horrify me Ser, I'm not so weak as that." She looked at the poor bard who'd just had a lute shoved into his hands. "Please, before this takes more time."
He tremulously cleared his throat but did finally do as requested. And honestly, Ser Vardis's face was hysterically pained as he was forced to stand by and listen.
Our red wolf's journey to the crown
Was long and hard all 'round
She had many obstacles on her trail
Many tried to stop her, all would fail
A lion, a letch holding her back
But she is a wolf with a pack
Next she found a leech and traitor taking over her den
But a wolf rules their homes now and again
When she finally reached the end
There was a reward, a lady with her knee to bend
The letch thought her weak and soft
The wolf inside dismissed and scoffed
As she did not roar as she stalked her prey
She just waited patiently for the perfect day
To leave them and never look back
The wolf was free and on the attack
Our red wolf's journey to the crown
Was long and hard all around
She had many obstacles on her trail
Many tried to stop her, all would fail
A lion, a letch holding her back
But she is a wolf with a pack
Next she found a leech and traitor taking over her den
But a wolf rules their homes now and again
When she finally reached the end
There was a reward, a lady with her knee to bend
The next was a leech who thought himself bigger then he was
But truly only made up of flaws
And the wolf silently endured for more than she should
For he fed of her as violently as he could
But it gave the wolf a chance to move
And the wildness in her proved
For she had her claws and fangs quickly slashed
And a husband and traitor dead in a flash
Our red wolf's journey to the crown
Was long and hard all around
She had many obstacles on her trail
Many tried to stop her, all would fail
A lion, a letch holding her back
But she is a wolf with a pack
Next she found a leech and traitor taking over her den
But a wolf rules their homes now and again
When she finally reached the end
There was a reward, a lady with her knee to bend
The Old Gods answered the she wolf's pleas
And out she came from the heart tree
A lady of the stars, a goddess for our winter queen
The god loved our red wolf, a love never before seen
For all her claws, fangs, and veins of ice
The lady never wavered once or twice
Her Holiness showered her in gifts and acts only a god would give
Together they shall forever live
Arya glanced at her sister before looking back at the hall. "You can't be serious? It's …a normal song?"
"I find I agree with my sister." Sansa looked at Ser Vardis's face clearly perplexed. Because Sansa couldn't ever just be curious, she went straight to perplexed like a proper lady, queen…whatever.
Ser Vardis spluttered, "That wasn't the filth he sang, not that this one was acceptable either!"
Sansa's gaze fell on the bard. "I will forgive the impulse to perform a more court-appropriate song, once. The actual tavern ditty if you would." It was an order, her tone sent a shiver down several men's spines.
The bard swallowed dryly, but nodded, and struck up a tune which was quite a bit jauntier. His voice was a bit weaker with what was likely terror.
Oh the Letch can't reach so you'd better lay down
Put on your back 'fore the might of the crown
The crown says no, sent her back up the neck
Not the Letch nor the leech it's the Lady
Oh the leech thought himself a man of his house
He was fucked with a knife for the love of his hounds
When the earth spread 'er legs, and the Dreadfort sank deep
Not the Letch nor the Leech it's the Lady
Oh our ice queen down on her knees she did pray
And the wood whipped out a goddess that day
You can hear all the moans of her worship far away
That ain't the Letch nor the Leech it's the Lady-
Sansa held up a hand silencing the bard before he could keep singing. "I believe we get the point."
Ser Vardis was bright red in the face with outrage. "To just bandy about your shame-"
"Shame?" Sansa's voice had sharpened. "What exactly am I supposed to be ashamed of?"
Arya spoke up as the man refused to speak. "I believe our good Ser is saying you should be ashamed of your past marriages, possibly murdering the last husband." She cocked her head to the side. "Could be the god you're fucking."
And gods' bless him, Manderly snorted from where he was seated. "Southern sensibilities."
"To have it so…bandied about!" Ser Vardis attempted. "It's not proper!"
Arya continued to turn the knife in her hand absently, her attention was very much on this shipwreck of a conversation. She could feel her teeth showing from her grin.
"Everyone here knows my history." Sansa's voice was impressively unruffled considering the snickers running throughout the court. "If my subjects wish to make songs about me that is their right. Or would you prefer I follow the steps of Joffrey? Have this man's tongue ripped out of his head in the middle of court so we can all watch the horror?"
Ser Vardis looked like a child being scolded by his mother. "No, your Grace. I only meant that such things should not be for the entertainment of drunks in taverns."
"You consider that a particularly scandalous tavern ditty?" Sansa asked, the disbelief actually faintly audible.
Arya piped up. "I'm fond of the one that rhythms hunt with cunt." She looked at her sister. "Isn't the one who wrote that one the idiot you had to send to the Wall so he didn't get murdered by the guards?" She knew it was. It'd only been a moon's time ago.
Sansa actually audibly sighed. "Lord Manderly, if you could pay this poor bard for his song. Ser Vardis, think before you drag a man before me. I don't appreciate having my time wasted." She waved her hand.
Ser Vardis opened his mouth, whether to accept or protest they never did find out, as he and all of them fell silent at a great chorus of howls echoed from outside the hall.
Arya was struck dumb, her heart racing, she knew that howl, and would always know it. And she was not alone in recognizing it. Ghost's great white head lifted, his ears perking forward as he looked towards where the sound had come from. And in the yard down below Shaggydog howled back, his great reverberating howl that was near impossible to miss. His sounds were answered by dozens of howls from further out.
"Nymeria," Arya uttered, and then she was on her feet and darting out of the hall, Ghost on her heels as they went to meet their packmate. Her other-self. She'd thought Nymeria had left her, but no, she'd come home. She'd just brought her new pack with her.
