Chapter 4: Ravens and Crows
Jon Snow
The crunching of the morning frost beneath his feet was all he heard as he continued his walk. He tried running at first, but quickly ran out of energy, and now his pace had slowed dramatically to something a bit more manageable. The little dragon sat atop his shoulder, its small talons gripping the furs on his coat as he walked.
He continued through the night and to the next morning, but now he was spent. He needed to eat, and the group of tree stumps he found on the side of the road ahead was looking more enticing by the second.
Exhausted, he slumped down onto the stump with a huff. It was a bit past sunrise at this point. He was in a forest, though it clearly wasn't as thick as the Wolfswood. There was seemingly nothing around him but evergreen trees and shrubbery for miles around. The reason he knew he was still on the Kingsroad going north was the indents in the ground where wagon wheels removed all the grass from the ground and the clear-cut trees to keep the woods around the road clear.
As he sat there for a moment, unwilling to even move to get his food yet, he idly wondered if he would ever be able to get a full night's sleep in his life ever again.
Removing his pack to the disagreement of the baby dragon on his shoulder who needed to step around the straps, he began to pull out some dried meat jerky he took from the kitchens. Taking a bite, he looked over to see the little dragon staring over to him with hopeful eyes.
He thought back to all the stories he grew up on about Aegon the Conqueror, hearing about Balerion the Black Dread laying waste to armies and melting castles down. Comparing those stories against the little creature in front of him begging for a piece of jerky, he couldn't help but laugh.
This was all just so absurd.
Holding out his half-eaten piece, the dragon snapped it up faster than he was ready for. Seeing the black teeth coming but unable to react fast enough, Jon watched in horror as the little thing snapped on half of the jerky slice in one bite, yanking it out of his grip faster than he was ready for.
Blinking as he realized that his meal was gone, he sighed before he dug in his pack for another slice. "You know, I only have so much." He said more to himself than the dragon. Realizing that this was a good time to test if the dragon understood him or not, he continued after turning back to the little dragon. "You might want to hunt some more rats if you want more food. Anything will help."
Just like all the other times he has spoken to the dragon, he only got a head tilt in response as the little dragon stared at the new piece of jerky in his hand. Waiting for a moment for any reaction at all, he was a bit disappointed as the little dragon didn't move to go hunt its own food. Sighing, he dug into his meal.
The two sat still for a while, the only interruption being the cawing of a raven, the rustling of leaves, and his own chewing as they sat there enjoying what little could be called a meal. Looking back up, the dragon was seemingly staring at something in the trees.
"You know, I should probably give you a name." He said aloud, still unaware if the little dragon could understand him or not. Sometimes it felt like it was smarter than he would give it credit for, and others it acted exactly like a cat would. Scratching under its chin, he continued, "I can't keep calling you dragon in my head, and that just doesn't seem right anymore."
"Caw! Caw!"
A soft growl came from the dragon's throat, and it did not look away from the tree it was staring at. Confused, Jon glanced up only to see the treetops.
Just a raven. The boy thought, returning his attention to the dragon.
Going over all of the names of dragons he knew in his mind, he was struck with the thought that he didn't know how the Targaryens named their dragons. Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar didn't quite fit, nor did he know what the names meant. That left the lesser known, but more obvious ones.
He remembered Caraxes, and Sunfyre, and… and… that's it. That's all he had to go on.
I really should have paid more attention in my history lessons.
Caraxes was the dragon that was ridden by the Rogue Dragon Daemon, and for some reason that just didn't fit. Sunfyre though, Sunfyre the Golden was known as the most beautiful dragon to ever live. It's name made sense to him, and he knew the meaning.
Glancing down to the little dragon still staring up at him with silver eyes, he studied it closely again. He remembered back to his dreams, and remembered something that didn't seem to important at the time.
… Find me…
The voice that called to him, at least until the final nightmare, was soft and soothing… feminine even. Adjusting the way he saw the creature in his head a bit, he truly hoped he wasn't wrong about it being a she-dragon.
"Caw! Caw!"
Feeling a muzzle bury itself into the palm of his left hand, he glanced down to see the dragon preening for attention. Scratching the spot atop its-her head, he laughed as she started to purr at the attention.
That still left the name. He would do his best to try and give her a name worthy of her mighty ancestors, but Sunfyre made no sense with her. Her mind was as sharp as any blade. Her eyes were silver, rippled, and held power like Valyrian steel. Her scales were as white and blue as glacial ice.
Sunfyre was probably named for its looks, so if he went off of that…
"Snowfire… No." The dragon's head tilted under his hand as he spoke, her head shifting to get a look at him from under his palm. Snowfire didn't work, as he disliked the idea that the dragon would share the same name as him, Snow. Frowning, he tried to think of something else. Glacierfyre was just plain stupid, and Icefyre sounded like he was naming her after his father's sword.
Shifting his foot, the frozen grass crunched beneath his boot. Looking down, he saw the little ice crystals formed on the grass, the shade from the trees painting the shadows of the grass in a soft but deep blue…
Just like her scales.
"Frostfyre." He whispered, and the dragon perked up. Something clicked into place in his mind, and he knew he had her name.
The little dragon seemed to realize this too, wriggling below him as she tried to climb onto his lap… though that might just be to try and get closer to his jerky.
"Craw! Craw!"
Annoyed at the bird that still continued its annoying crowing, he glanced up and searched the trees again. This time, he saw a strange raven with milky white eyes staring down at him. The unnerving sight only lasted for a second before the creature flew down and landed only a few feet in front of him.
The creature seemed fearless even as the little dragon growled at it. The solid white eyes unnerved Jon, causing him to shift a bit where he was sitting.
"Crow! Crow!"
Then it moved, as the creature boldly flew up to Frostfyre and landed on her back. Pecking at the back of the little dragon's horns, the bold or more probably insane creature then flew off to the side of the clearing and turned back around. Its white eyes staring a challenge at the little dragon
"Crow! Crow!"
Frostfyre wasn't about to take this challenge lying down, and immediately began to chase after the raven.
"Wait, no!" Jon yelled, but it was far too late. The little dragon was snarling and chasing after the bird, the two flying into the woods, disappearing after a few snaps of twigs and branches as if they weren't even there in the first place.
Jon sat there in the silent clearing for a long moment, completely dumbstruck. He knew in the back of his mind somehow that she would come back, but for the moment he felt a bit saddened that she would just abandon him like that right after he named her.
However, he then heard the sound of hooves approaching.
Quickly eating the slice of jerky, he placed his hand on the pommel of his sword and readied himself. There was always a chance that the person approaching would be hostile.
After a few moments, a man atop a brown horse trotted over a small hill. He was dressed in all black, armed, and his bearded face seemingly had a perpetual frown on it.
Unsheathing his sword, Jon readied himself in the way Ser Rodrick always told him to do.
"Eh, what do we have here?" The man said as he came to a stop right next to Jon. "A lone boy on the road with castle forged steel? Don't tell me you're gunna' try and rob me boy. It won't end well for ya'."
Jon stared upward defiantly. "Just defending myself should you attack."
The mounted man stared down at him, his expressive face clearly filled with mirth. "Son, you look like shit. I have a feeling that if I sneezed on ya' right now, you'd fall right over." Not wanting to react, Jon gripped his sword a bit tighter but didn't say anything. The man grinned before dismounting. "Put the sword down boy, I won't hurt ya'."
Still unwilling to do so quite yet, Jon watched as the man sifted through his saddlebags. Pulling out a loaf of bread, he made his way to a stump to sit down. Examining him a bit closer, he noticed that he was dressed in much the same way that his uncle Benjen was when he visited Winterfell.
"You're a brother of the Night's Watch." Jon said, finally relaxing if only slightly.
The man chuckled, shaking his head as he took a bite from his bread. "Aye. Th' name's Yoren." He said through his food.
"Jon." The younger responded, unwilling to give his surname.
The man grunted, glancing down to the pommel of Jon's sword. "Tha's a well-made sword at first glance boy." Was all he said before biting off another piece of bread. "I'd be willing to bet it isn't yours." Stiffening, Jon backed up a step. The man seemed amused by this, holding up his hands disarmingly. "I'm not judging. We all got our past, 'and at the end it doesn't matter. What matters is what comes next right?" The man leaned forward. "What's your plan, boy?"
Studying the man's face, Jon found that he trusted the stranger if only a little bit. He didn't know if it was his demeanor or the fact that he was a brother of the Watch, but he did. "I'm going to the Wall." Jon found himself saying. It was the truth after all, and Jon was not one to lie if he could help it. No, he would just leave out the baby dragon and the fact that he wasn't planning on becoming a brother of the Watch.
The man's eyebrows rose at that. He was clearly surprised to hear that, studying Jon a bit more closely. "Why, if I may ask?" He said, then shook his head as if he thought better of it. "Nevermind. Everyone's past is their own. You must have your reasons, same as the rest of us." The two sat in silence for a bit longer before he spoke up again. "You planning on walking the whole way there?" He said jokingly.
Jon's face fell, glancing north. Nodding once, he still felt determined to make it no matter the odds.
Yoren seemed to sigh, glancing down the southern road back towards Winterfell. Coming to some kind of conclusion, the man spoke up again as he stood up. "You're a lucky one, you know."
Confused, Jon replied with a quick, "Lucky?"
The man laughed, walking over to his horse and removing the saddlebags. "Aye, lucky enough that I believe you. Lucky that I'm a wandering crow, and lucky we are so close to Winterfell that I don't find it too inconvenient to walk the rest of the way." He said before turning back to Jon. "When I joined the Watch, I didn't ride my own horse there neither. You can pay me back when we meet again, eh? By then we will be brothers in arms, so it shouldn't be too hard to do."
Realizing just what the man was doing, Jon stood up quickly. "You are giving me your horse?"
The man laughed, walking over and slapping Jon on the shoulder. "Bit slow on the uptake, aren't ya' boy. Don't worry, I'm sure Alliser will learn ya' soon enough." Swinging the bags over his shoulder, he began to make his way down the road after taking the last bite of his bread. Giving one last glance back, he raised an eyebrow in Jon's direction. "You do know how to ride, don't you boy?"
Nodding, Jon felt a bit indignant at the implication that he didn't. "Of course."
The man snorted before making his way down the road with his hand over his head. "Then off you go. The realm won't be guardin' itself without a shield to do it."
Jon just sat there, staring at the man as he made his way south, leaving his horse behind.
Jon felt horrible. While he didn't technically lie to the man, as the Wall was his goal, he was never going to be joining the Night's Watch. Frostfyre ruined any plans of that immediately after she hatched. In that moment, Jon knew that he would need to pay the man back some other way, but he would pay him back.
A screech came from the bushes, and a raven flew out, rapidly flapping its wings like its life depended on it… which it did. Next came Frostfyre screaming out of the brush. The little dragon had something in her mouth, but Jon didn't get a good look at what it was. Smoke billowed out from between her teeth as she chased the bird down with everything she had.
The white eyed raven flew directly at him, before banking to the side at the last possible moment. This unfortunately left him staring at a baby dragon flying at full speed towards his chest with no time to react fully.
The both of them seemed to realize the impending disaster at the same time, the little dragon flapping her wings to slow herself down as much as possible and Jon opening his arms to catch the little creature. The two ended up colliding, sending Jon stumbling back a step or two but remaining otherwise unharmed.
Finally able to get a good look at the dragon now that it was in his arms again, he saw that she had a rat in her mouth. Blinking, he studied her eyes closely.
Did she mean to do that, or did she find it in the woods while chasing the raven?
Laughing, he placed the little dragon back on his shoulder and looked towards the horse. He would be able to make much better time now, and nor would he be exhausted from the journey. He could afford to rest for the moment, and a fire seemed a good place to start.
After all, if I don't cook this rat, Frostfyre might try to eat my fingers again.
Beginning to fetch some wood from the felled trees, he heard the raven call out again from above, much to the annoyance of the growling Frostfyre.
"Caw! Caw!" The raven called, but when Jon looked up and found it again, its eyes were black.
Eddard Stark
Staring at the bloodied sheets in front of him, a sense of depression and hopelessness came over him. He had failed his nephew, failed to keep his sister's promise, failed the boy he raised as his son.
"Promise me Ned, promise me."
There was still hope, the Lord of Winterfell thought, still hope that he could be found. It was looking grim, but the blood found here was not enough to kill anyone. It suggested a struggle that was covered up later, which meant only one thing.
A kidnapper.
The servants had been questioned all day and into the next night, but their answers were all the same. None of them knew where Jon went, and none of them saw anything. It was like he just up and vanished. His room also seemed like nothing was out of the ordinary, except for the blood on his sheets and a dead rat in the corner.
Ignoring for the moment that a kidnapper had found his way into his family home completely undetected, the Lord of Winterfell felt determination fill the hole that hopelessness held for the last two days.
He had one idea left.
Opening Jon's dresser chest, he found a piece of Jon's clothes. He needed this for the hounds, praying to the old gods that a scent could still be found.
He made his way outside to see the search party already ready.
Seeing Ser Rodrick and two of his family guards already mounted up and ready to go, he glanced over to see the hunter and tracker that he enlisted for this. It was still early dawn of the third day since Jon left, but all of the men understood why they were here. He watched impatiently as the kennel master leashed a bloodhound and tried to keep it under control.
Handing him Jon's clothing, the dogs sniffed it for a moment before seemingly picking up on the scent. The dog rushed to the end of its leash, rushing towards the eastern gate and practically pulling the kennel master along with them.
At the dog's reaction, Ned felt relief fill him. If they had a scent, they had a lead.
Thank the gods! Don't worry Jon, I'm on my way. This time I won't be too late. I promise.
Thoughts of his sister's son, stolen away in the night, to be used as a ransom or worse filled his mind and the father of five turned into the Quiet Wolf again. Now, he wasn't a grieving father who lost a son, no. Now he was the war veteran that fought through hundreds to save his sister and avenge his kin. Saddled up, the five men all raced out of the gate to find his sister's son. The last thing he saw was his wife cradling his youngest son and staring at him with a cold frown.
-Author's Note-
I always loved Yoren as a character. The man had his problems, but was a saint in the end despite his past.
Looks like Jon's got a horse now, Eddard is losing his mind, and the little dragon has a name. Little Frostfyre has some growing to do, but when she does.
Rawr.
Anywho, thanks for reading. The next chapter will probably be a bit later than the rest have been even if this creative binge I have been on keeps up, but that is because what I want to do with it should take a lot longer than 2000-3000 words. I'm expecting double that or more, so *cracks knuckles* here we go.
I was actually tempted to just extend this chapter super long, but decided against it. Hope you enjoy it!
Again, thanks for reading! If you like it, give it a follow and a favorite, and consider leaving a review. I love those.