Beyond the Wall

Jon, Tyene, and Missandei ventured into the haunted forest beyond the Wall, their determined footsteps crunching on the frost-kissed ground. Clad in fur-lined cloaks, they huddled closer, seeking solace from the biting cold.

As they made their way through the twisted trees, the air grew thick with an eerie silence, broken only by the rustle of skeletal branches and the distant howl of a wolf. Jon's gaze darted between the shadowy figures lurking in the undergrowth, his hand tightly clutching his axe.

Tyene, her breath forming icy plumes, shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Her voice, laced with annoyance, carried through the frigid air. "By the Seven, it's even colder here than it was in Castle Black! I can hardly feel my toes anymore. Couldn't Ned have spared us a couple of horses?"

Missandei, her dark skin glistening with frost, cast a sympathetic glance toward Tyene. "The Nights Watch have their own worries, Tyene. Horses might have been in short supply. We must endure the cold for now."

Their path meandered deeper into the forest, where gnarled roots twisted like ancient bones beneath their feet. The haunted whispers of the trees echoed in their ears, adding an ominous tone to the already chilling surroundings. Yet, the trio pressed on.

With each step they took, the icy grip of winter tightened around them, testing their resolve.

As the trio trudged through the snowy expanse, Tyene's teeth chattered from the cold, but her mischievous spirit remained undeterred. She mustered a playful grin and teased Jon, her words tinged with sarcasm. "You know, Jon, once we survive this freezing ordeal, we'll swear off snow forever. No more snowflakes, no more white landscapes. I'll gladly trade it all for warm sands and sunny beaches."

Jon chuckled, his breath forming tiny clouds in the frigid air. "I can't say I'd mind that, Tyene. The idea of never having to scrape ice off my boots again sounds rather appealing."

Missandei, her face displaying a hint of amusement, joined in the banter. "Oh, the thought of endless summers and no more shivering would be a dream come true. It makes me miss home" she adds at the end feeling a bit somber.

Jon, his eyes gleaming with determination, turned to Missandei and offered reassurance. "Fear not, Missandei. We will find the Chalice of Winter. we'll save your home and ensure that the fiery mountain is once again quelled into slumber."

Missandei's gaze met Jon's, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Jon."

Tyene, seizing the opportunity for a lighthearted moment, playfully teased Missandei, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, Missandei, when you're tired of being a queen, you can always come live with Jon and me in our keep in Sunspear. We'll trade icy walls for sandy shores and share endless tales under the Dornish sun."

Missandei's laughter resonated through the wintry air, momentarily lifting the weight of their perilous journey. "That sounds enticing, Tyene. I can just imagine the warmth and the vibrant life of Dorne, I do sometimes think maybe I'm more suited to that than to be queen" She admits.

Tyene puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiles at her "You're too kind of a person to ever be burdened with such a responsibility"

"And after last night I wouldn't be surprised if your belly swells with Jon's child, it would be nice if mine had a sibling to play with" She whispers making Missandei blush.

Jon's mind drifted back to the solemn conversation he had with his father, Ned, before setting off on this treacherous quest. The memory of Ned's wise words echoed in his thoughts, grounding him in the reality of their mission.

(Flashback)

"You must exercise caution, Jon," Ned had warned, his voice filled with concern. "Reports from the rangers indicate that more and more free folk are gathering near Hardhome. It's a place fraught with danger and uncertainty. Stay vigilant, for the path to the Chalice of Winter is unlikely to be an easy one."

Jon nodded, the weight of responsibility settling upon his shoulders. "I understand, Father. The presence of the free folk complicates matters, but we cannot stop now I feel the pull of the chalice, we are in the final stretch now."

Ned placed a hand on Jon's shoulder, his gaze filled with fatherly pride and affection. "You have the resilience and strength of your ancestors, Jon. Trust your instincts, and remember that there are more important things than power. Find the Chalice, but do so with care."

(Flashback End)

Tyene suddenly kisses Jon on the cheek, she then smiles at him "If you brood any longer your face may get stuck that way"

Tyene's unexpected kiss on Jon's cheek startled him, momentarily snapping him out of his worry. The warmth of her lips against his skin brought a fleeting moment of comfort, dispelling the weight of his concerns, at least for a brief instant.

A faint blush coloured Jon's cheeks as he turned his gaze toward Tyene, his worry momentarily replaced by a flicker of amusement. Her lighthearted jest resonated with him, puncturing the seriousness that had enveloped him. "Well, Tyene, I suppose it's a good thing you're here to keep me from brooding too much. We wouldn't want my face to freeze in a perpetual scowl."

A soft chuckle escaped Jon's lips as he allowed himself to relish in the levity of the moment. Tyene's playful nature had a way of lifting his spirits, reminding him of the importance of laughter and the simple joys of life.

As the day faded into twilight, Jon, Tyene, and Missandei stumbled upon a small free folk village nestled amidst the wintry landscape. Weariness tugged at their limbs, prompting them to seek shelter for the night. Jon approached the village elder, a weathered figure adorned in furs and bearing the wisdom of years.

With respect in his voice, Jon addressed the elder. "Good evening, elder. We are weary travellers seeking shelter for the night. In return for a room, I offer you my dagger. Though it has seen battles, its steel remains of high quality."

The elder's eyes glimmered with a mixture of curiosity and caution. He carefully examined the Dagger, running his fingers along its hilt and inspecting its blade. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded, acknowledging the value of Jon's offer. "Aye, your dagger shall secure you a room for the night. You and your companions are welcome among our people."

Gratitude welled up within Jon as he thanked the elder for his generosity. The trio found themselves settled in a humble abode, their tired bodies yearning for rest. As they huddled together, finding solace in the warmth of the hearth, the girls cuddled up to Jon revelling in the warmth he exuded.

———————————————————

As Jon succumbed to sleep, his weary mind transported him to a realm of dreams. In this ephemeral world, a vision unfolded before him, one filled with warmth, love, and the promise of a future. He found himself standing in the grandeur of Sunspear, alongside Tyene, his heart brimming with joy.

The dream's vibrant colours painted a picturesque scene: the lush Water Gardens, resplendent in their beauty, with fountains cascading and gentle streams meandering through vibrant blooms. Jon watched with delight as he and Tyene played with their children, their laughter echoing through the tranquil surroundings.

He felt the tender touch of Tyene's hand in his, their fingers interlacing, a symbol of their bond. Their eyes met, and the love shared between them filled the dream with an undeniable warmth. Looking away Jon could see a herd of deer in the distance looking upon the water gardens, it was quite peculiar but Jon was snapped out of it by Tyene grabbing his hands and pulling him into the water.

———————————————————

Jon woke up startled, his heart raced with alarm as he heard the commotion outside and the sound of villagers being rounded up. He urgently shook Missandei and Tyene awake, their eyes widening with concern as they quickly grasped the gravity of the situation. Without wasting another moment, Jon crept toward the wooden door, carefully peering through the narrow cracks.

His breath caught in his throat as he beheld a scene that sent a chill down his spine. Men clad in armour were herding the frightened villagers under their control. But it was the figure at the centre, adorned in a white cloak and gold armour, that froze Jon in place—a member of the Kingsguard.

A sense of foreboding gripped Jon's heart. What would bring a Kingsguard, to this remote free folk village? He knew the King was at the Fist of the First men but they were in the opposite direction.

Returning to Tyene and Missandei, Jon whispered urgently, his voice tinged with urgency. "We need to leave, now. The Kingsguard's presence here cannot bode well. We must find another path, avoid confrontation."

Tyene and Missandei nodded in agreement, their eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. The problem was Jon recognised this Kingsguard, he had seen him a few times before his fight with the King, the Queen's twin brother Jaime Lannister.

As Jon observed the dire scene unfolding outside, his ears strained to catch any snippets of conversation that would shed light on the intentions of Jaime Lannister and his pursuit of Mance Rayder. His focus sharpened as he listened intently, hoping to gain valuable insights.

Jaime's commanding voice sliced through the air, carrying both authority and a palpable sense of impatience. "Tell me where Mance Rayder is," he demanded, his tone cutting like a sharpened blade. "His actions have not gone unnoticed. The king demands answers, and I will not leave until I have them."

The villagers, their fear palpable, exchanged hesitant glances. One brave soul, with a tremor in their voice, spoke up. "We do not know where Mance Rayder is," they stammered, their voice laced with anxiety. "He has not been among us for some time. We are but simple folk, living our lives in these harsh lands."

Jaime's eyes narrowed, his frustration evident. "Do not play ignorant with me," he seethed, his voice tinged with menace. "The wildlings are gathering, and Rayder is at the heart of it. Your cooperation will determine the fate of this village."

Fear washed over the captured villagers as they struggled to provide satisfactory answers. Jon, Tyene, and Missandei, hidden within the confines of their hut, exchanged concerned glances. It was clear that Jaime's resolve was unwavering, and the consequences of his dissatisfaction could be catastrophic.

Whispering urgently to his companions, Jon devised a plan. "We cannot risk being caught in the middle of this. We must find an alternative path"

As Jon, Tyene, and Missandei carefully manoeuvred through the outskirts of the village, their hearts pounding with anticipation, an unexpected encounter shattered their hopes of a quiet escape. Turning a corner, they came face-to-face with a patrolling guard, who seemed equally startled by their sudden appearance.

Reacting swiftly, Jon's instincts took over as he drew his sword with practised ease. With a single fluid motion, he struck down the guard before he could raise the alarm. The guard's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the threat neutralized. However, in the process, the guard's armour clattered noisily against the earth, its reverberations echoing through the quiet morning air.

The sound acted as a call to attention, reverberating through the village and alerting Jaime Lannister and his men to the intrusion. Panic surged through Jon, Tyene, and Missandei as the realization dawned upon them that their clandestine departure had been exposed.

Shouts erupted from nearby huts, spreading like wildfire as the village stirred to life. The trio exchanged worried glances, fully aware that they had to abandon all semblance of stealth and make a desperate dash for freedom. Time had become their greatest enemy, and their escape was now a race against the encroaching guards.

Without hesitation, Jon, Tyene, and Missandei propelled themselves into a sprint, their boots pounding against the ground. Their breaths came in gasps, their lungs straining to keep up with the pace of their fleeing bodies.

Behind them, the clatter of armour and the clamour of shouts grew louder, an ominous symphony of pursuit. Jaime Lannister's presence loomed like a spectre, he marshalled his men in the hunt for those who had disrupted his interrogation.

As chaos erupted in the village, the unexpected resistance of the villagers took the guards by surprise. With a collective roar of defiance, the villagers, burdened by their grievances and fueled by desperation, rose against their captors, they fought back, their collective strength becoming a formidable force.

Jon, Tyene, and Missandei could hardly believe their eyes as they witnessed the villagers' bravery. the trio's steps faltered, torn between their escape and their desire to aid the uprising.

However, Jaime Lannister, undeterred by the villagers' resistance, remained singularly focused on his quarry. As the chaos swirled around him, he emerged as a lone figure, his determined gaze fixed upon Jon, Tyene, and Missandei. With unwavering resolve, he sprinted forward, his golden armour glinting in the morning light.

Realizing that they couldn't afford to linger, Jon, Tyene, and Missandei exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. With a renewed burst of energy, they recommitted to their escape.

With their hearts pounding and their bodies strained from the relentless chase, Jon, Tyene, and Missandei raced through the small village. Their hopes were momentarily buoyed when Jaime Lannister seemed to have vanished from their immediate pursuit. However, their respite was short-lived.

As they neared the edge of the village, a flicker of movement caught Jon's attention from the corner of his eye. Before he could react, Jaime emerged with an unexpected burst of speed, launching himself at Jon with a powerful kick. The force of the impact sent Jon hurtling through the air, crashing into a nearby hut with a resounding crash, breaking through the frail wall.

Jaime looks at the two girls who had stopped, shocked at what they just saw and smirked "To think I'd have to listen to the king moan about having no more wildlings to fight, but now I can bring him Jon Snow the man he hates most in the world, perhaps then we'll get to leave this piece of shit wasteland"

As Jaime's smirk spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of sadistic satisfaction and determination, Tyene and Missandei felt a chill run down their spines. His words echoed with a malevolence that sent shivers through their bodies, and they exchanged worried glances, realizing the severity of the situation.

Tyene, her voice trembling with a mix of defiance and fear, mustered the courage to speak. "You won't lay a hand on him," she said, her voice laced with determination. "We won't let you harm Jon"

Missandei, her eyes flashing with a steely resolve, stood beside Tyene, reinforcing their united front. "You underestimate our strength," she declared, her voice filled with conviction. "We'll protect him, no matter the cost."

Jaime chuckled darkly, relishing in their defiant spirit. "Oh, how noble," he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But you're no match for me, girls. The Lannister lion always triumphs."

With a swift motion, Jaime unsheathed his sword, the steel glinting in the sunlight. He took a step closer, his intent clear. "It's time to end this little game," he declared, his voice cold and devoid of mercy. "Your resistance is futile."

But Tyene and Missandei, fueled by their love for Jon and their unyielding determination, refused to back down.

As Tyene unsheathed both of her daggers, her grip tightening around the handles, she propelled herself forward with fierce determination. With calculated precision, she unleashed a flurry of swift and agile strikes, aimed at penetrating Jaime's defences and overwhelming him with her speed and agility.

But Jaime, renowned for his exceptional skill with a sword, met Tyene's assault with a calm and calculated demeanour. His movements were fluid and precise, his swordplay a masterful display of control and experience. With each swing, he deftly parried Tyene's strikes, his blade effortlessly intercepting her daggers.

Despite her best efforts, Tyene's attacks seemed to have little effect on Jaime. His armour offered him a formidable defence, and his reflexes allowed him to anticipate and counter her movements with ease. However, Tyene's agility proved to be her saving grace. She twisted and dodged, her body moving with remarkable grace and speed, narrowly evading Jaime's lethal swings.

Their dance of blades continued a test of skill and endurance. Tyene's determination burned bright within her, refusing to succumb to despair. She utilized her agility to her advantage, darting in and out, launching quick and unexpected attacks while continuously staying one step ahead of Jaime's deadly reach.

Jaime's frustration grew apparent as Tyene eluded his strikes, her nimble movements taunting him. He increased the intensity of his attacks, his strikes becoming more powerful and precise, aiming to overpower Tyene with sheer force. But she remained elusive, her lithe form slipping through the gaps in his defence, her daggers striking with precision whenever an opportunity presented itself.

With a sudden burst of dexterity and skill, Jaime Lannister, In a mesmerizing display, he twirled his sword with unparalleled precision, redirecting all the force of his swing into the hilt of Tyene's dagger. The impact reverberated through the weapon, jarring Tyene's grip and sending her dagger flying from her hand.

Caught off guard by Jaime's unexpected manoeuvre, Tyene's eyes widened in astonishment. The loss of her weapon left her momentarily vulnerable, her defences compromised.

But Jaime, capitalizing on his advantage, closed in swiftly, his gaze fixed upon Tyene. With a swift motion, he raised his sword, the gleaming blade poised to strike. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air as Tyene searched for a way to regain her footing.

In a dramatic turn of events, just as Jaime Lannister prepared to strike Tyene down with a decisive blow, Jon, his face etched with determination and his sword held high, intercepted Jaime's downward strike, their blades colliding in a clash of steel.

The impact reverberated through the air, the sheer force of their clash creating a momentary standoff between the two adversaries. Jon's muscles strained against the weight of Jaime's strike, his resolve shining through his eyes. He stood as a shield, protecting Tyene and defiantly challenging Jaime's dominance.

A mix of surprise and irritation flashed across Jaime's face as he locked eyes with Jon. The tension hung heavy in the air as they grappled for control, their swords locked in a fierce struggle.

Tyene, her heart pounding in her chest, watched in awe and relief as Jon's timely intervention saved her from imminent harm. She gathered herself, taking advantage of the momentary respite, and retrieved her fallen dagger.

Jon then used a burst of supernatural strength and sent Jaime skidding back, the look of surprise on his face would have been comical had the situation not been so dire. "Tyene take Missandei and go, I'll catch up" Jon commands, but he sends her a reassuring smile and a wink, getting a smirk from her and nodding before grabbing Missandei's hand and running in the opposite direction.

Jaime having shaken off his surprise regains his cocky smile "Sacrificing yourself for your female companions, and they say chivalry is dead" he jests while walking back towards Jon.

"Come quietly, I'm sure Death by Warhammer isn't as unpleasant as it sounds," Jaime says the smirk ever present.

Jon returns the smirk "Mayhaps you'd join me on the block, I'm sure the king would be eager to learn how his loyal kingsguard is also the father of his children"

Jamie's face goes from one of shock to anger and then back to that infuriating smirk "Well I suppose we have something in common then" but before Jon could question what he meant he already had his sword up.

In a flurry of intense combat, the clash between Jon and Jaime escalated to new heights. As Jaime lifted his sword and delivered a powerful strike, Jon swiftly raised his blade, blocking the blow with precision and skill. Their swords locked in a fierce struggle, their strength and determination evident in every fibre of their beings.

But Jaime, never one to relent, seized an opportunity for advantage. With a swift pivot of his foot, he lifted Jon's blade upward, momentarily disarming him. In a swift and unexpected move, Jaime followed up with a powerful elbow strike to Jon's face, his cunning tactics testing Jon's resilience.

The impact of Jaime's strike jarred Jon, momentarily disorienting him. With a quick recovery, Jon barely managed to dodge Jaime's subsequent side swipe, his agility saving him from a potentially devastating blow. Gathering himself, Jon lunged forward and launched an upward swipe aimed at Jaime's defences.

Reacting with lightning reflexes, Jaime jumped backwards, narrowly evading Jon's blade. With a swift and forceful thrust, Jaime Lannister aimed his blade directly at Jon's torso. But Jon, ever vigilant and quick to react, parried the strike aside with a deft movement of his sword. The clash of steel echoed through the air, a testament to their skill and determination.

Jaime, a seasoned warrior well aware of Jon's formidable strength, wisely chose not to engage in a direct clash. He understood that Jon's raw power could potentially overpower him in a head-on confrontation. Instead, Jaime relied on his agility and finesse, seeking to outmanoeuvre Jon in a battle of wits and skill.

As Jon's parry deflected Jaime's attack, the Kingslayer swiftly adjusted his position, carefully evading the full brunt of the diagonal swipe. His movements were calculated, a delicate dance to avoid Jon's superior strength while seeking an opening of his own. Jaime knew that precision and timing were paramount in this battle.

As Jaime flicked his wrist with remarkable dexterity, Jon's sword was swiftly knocked out of his grasp, soaring through the air in an unexpected arc. Panic surged through Jon's veins, his mind racing for a solution to this dire predicament.

In a split-second decision, Jon's instincts took over. He swiftly raised his leg and delivered a powerful kick, launching Jaime's sword into the air alongside his own. The two blades twirled in a surreal dance, defying gravity for a moment before gravity inevitably took hold.

In that bewildering moment, both Jon and Jaime locked eyes, a mix of surprise and disbelief reflecting in their gazes. With lightning-fast reflexes, they both extended their hands, reaching out to catch the descending blades. The swords landed simultaneously, one in Jon's grip and the other in Jaime's.

Shaking himself out of the shock of what had happened Jon looks at where Jaime was now standing and smiles "I've had fun fighting you Lannister, but I'm afraid other things require my attention, though do give my regards to your sister" He says with a smirk before unsheathing one of his daggers.

Jaime looks confused for a second before chuckling "Seems it might be too cold up here even for Starks, if you think you can get away you must be mad"

Jon smirks at him and throws the dagger behind him into the air "You might have won today's fight if you Lannisters didn't always walk around with your head held high that you never notice what's beneath you"

A sudden panic gripped Jaime. He glanced down, only to discover that one of his legs had unwittingly become ensnared in a concealed rope circle. In the chaos of their clash, he had failed to notice the perilous trap beneath his feet.

'But when could he have! When he was in the hut! He's been leading me on this entire time!' Jaime thought in outrage.

Meanwhile, the sound of a dagger hitting the ground reverberated through the air, its exact location concealed from both combatants. However, their senses were soon met with the distressing whinny of a horse, followed by the thunderous galloping of hooves. The significance of these sounds became apparent as the rope tightened around Jaime's trapped leg.

In an instant, Jaime was forcefully pulled off his feet, his body twisting in the air as he fell onto his back. The momentum of the sudden movement propelled him forward, dragged away by an unseen force. His eyes widened with a mix of shock and disbelief as he realized he was being swiftly pulled away from the battlefield.

Jon offered Jaime a wave of farewell. The brief moment of victory and triumph flickered in Jon's eyes as he watched his adversary being dragged away.

"Farewell Lannister, it's a shame we couldn't spend more time together," Jon said with a smile on his face.

'Time to catch up with the girls' Jon thought to himself as he started jogging in their direction but not before getting his axe, he'd neglected to use it as he was better with a sword and against a man like Jaime Lannister you bring your best.

———————————————————-

Having successfully evaded Jaime and the chaos of the village, Jon, Tyene, and Missandei pushed forward, their footsteps quickening in unison. Determined to put a safe distance between themselves and their pursuers, they marched with renewed vigour, their resolve unwavering.

The events of the day had heightened their senses and fueled their determination. Jon took the lead, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. Tyene and Missandei followed closely behind, their steps synchronised.

The haunted forest loomed around them, its ancient trees casting long shadows as they pressed forward. The biting cold seemed inconsequential in the face of their urgent purpose. With each passing moment, they left the turmoil of the village behind, their footfalls marking their determination to reach safety.

They walked in silence, the weight of the day's events weighing heavily on their minds. Thoughts of the encounter with Jaime, the villagers' plight, and the precarious situation beyond the Wall.

The day pressed on, the sun gradually descending toward the horizon. They covered more ground than anticipated, spurred on by a mix of adrenaline and urgency. Their pace remained steady, their movements determined, as they forged ahead.

Tyene had a smirk on her face most of the time sometimes transforming into full-on laughter "I can't believe you sent him away with his horse, I can't imagine he's going to be happy when he sees you again" She says with a laugh.

"That makes two people beyond the wall who would like to remove my head from my neck, in all honesty not as bad as most places we've been" Jon replies with a snort.

Eventually, they came across what seemed to be a small cave, Jon lit himself a torch breaking off a branch of a tree and he went inside checking for any predators. Finding none he went back outside and let the girls know it would be safe here tonight.

"Finally I'm so sick of walking, we have thousands of gold dragons and yet we have no horses" Tyene complains as she sits down in front of a campfire pit that Jon was constructing.

"Where would we keep them" Jon replies with a smile as he lights the fire illuminating the cave with light and filling it with warmth. The girls both sigh in contentment as they feel the warmth from the campfire.

Jon looks at their packs they'd only managed to grab the essentials before leaving so there wasn't much food. He's have to go out and find something, he did see a river in the distance.

"Alright girls before the light completely dies I'm going to go and see if I can catch us something to eat" Jon states to them not before putting down his pack and cloak, it was cold but he didn't want to risk it getting wet.

Tyene pouts at the thought of him leaving "Come home soon, you're the warmest thing for miles" Jon smiles back before leaving the cave.

Jon stepped out of the protective shelter of the cave, his breath mingling with the frigid air as he ventured toward the nearby river. The sound of rushing water filled his ears, echoing through the stillness of the forest. Gripping his trusty axe tightly, he felt its weight reassuring in his hand.

Reaching a spot along the riverbank, Jon surveyed his surroundings, searching for a suitable spot to set up his makeshift fishing operation. His eyes settled on a spot just off the shore, where the water flowed gently, promising a chance of success in his pursuit of sustenance.

With determined resolve, Jon selected a large limb from a nearby tree, its sturdy form offering the perfect material for fashioning a spear. Raising his axe, he swung it down with controlled force, severing the limb from its trunk. The wood split cleanly, revealing its raw potential.

Using the blade of his axe, Jon carefully shaved and shaped the thick end of the limb into a crude spearhead. Each stroke of the blade was deliberate, as he honed the wood into a sharp point.

'An 8,000-year-old artefact and I'm using it to sharpen a stick' Jon thought to himself with a chuckle, the axe blade was razor sharp so it didn't take long before he sharpened the stick into a point.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Jon stepped back from the river's edge and took a moment to observe his surroundings. He gauged the flow of the water, seeking the subtle signs that might give away the presence of fish beneath the surface. The cold nipped at his face, a reminder of the harsh reality of their journey beyond the Wall.

With a spear in hand, Jon positioned himself just off the shore, finding his balance amidst the current. Time seemed to slow as he stood patiently, his senses attuned to the subtle movements of the water.

Minutes turned into eternity as Jon waited, his gaze fixed on the tranquil surface. The tension in his muscles coiled like a spring, ready to unleash at the slightest indication of a fish's presence. And then, it happened—a flicker of movement beneath the water's surface, a shimmer of silver caught in the sunlight. Reacting with lightning-fast reflexes, Jon lunged forward, thrusting the makeshift spear with practised precision. The water exploded around him, the force of his strike sending ripples across the river's surface.

On the end of his makeshift spear was a large fish still wiggling, Jon quickly took it out of the water for fear that the spear would snap under its weight. Eventually, it stops wriggling and Jon takes it off the stick smiling at his catch. Though his senses sharpen as he hears a snap of a twig, turning around he sees a man who wore a skull on his head and bones around his chest.

Jon's heart pounded in his chest as he assessed the situation. The unexpected appearance of the man with the skull-adorned head and bone-laden armour caught him off guard. Reacting swiftly, he hurled his spear at the menacing figure, hoping to gain the upper hand. But his hopes were dashed as the spear shattered upon impact, revealing the presence of sturdy leather armour beneath the bone adornments.

As the first assailant was momentarily distracted by the broken spear, Jon's senses tingled with danger. He instinctively leapt to the side, narrowly evading a devastating swing of a colossal sword that cleaved through the air where he had just been standing. The force of the attack sent ripples of wind sweeping past him, reaffirming the lethal prowess of his opponent.

The giant man who had just tried to split Jon in half smiles maliciously "What's a baby crow doing all the way out here"

Jon with a nervous smile looks at the large man "Would you believe me if I said I just look good in black" The giant man looks at Jon before laughing, his booming laugh shaking the trees and making snow fall from the branches. Jon joins in with him laughing until the man stops and goes to swing his sword again.

"Shit!" Jon shouts before diving to the ground, he crawls over to his axe and picks it up getting ready for a fight.

"I am Tormund Giantsbane, this is Rattleshirt someone less important, I haven't killed a crow in months so do make it fun will ya" Tormund booms ending it with a laugh.

The man who was named Rattleshirt looked pissed at Tormund, as when he started to approach Jon he was held back by Tormund conveying the message that Jon was his to fight.

Jon and Tormund locked eyes, their rivalry and mutual respect intertwining in the frozen air. The clash of their weapons reverberated through the haunting forest, marking the intensity of their confrontation.

Tormund, with his imposing stature and a sword befitting his colossal strength, swung his weapon with primal ferocity. The gust of wind generated by the swing sent shivers down Jon's spine as he instinctively evaded the deadly arc of Tormund's blade. Agile and nimble, he narrowly escaped the impending strike.

In the blink of an eye, Jon retaliated, bringing his axe down in a sweeping motion, aiming to exploit any opening in Tormund's defences. But his strike was met with Tormund's immense strength, as his sword intercepted the axe mid-air, the clash of metal echoing through the surroundings.

The force of the impact reverberated through Jon's arms, his muscles straining against the resistance. A surge of determination fueled his resolve as he sought to match Tormund's raw power. The weight of their rivalry and the significance of their encounter pushed him to fight with unwavering tenacity.

Locked in this contest of strength, Jon and Tormund pushed against each other, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. Each combatant sought to exploit the tiniest vulnerability, a momentary lapse that could turn the tide in their favour.

Their breathing became laboured, visible puffs of frosty air escaping from their lips. The ground beneath them bore the marks of their struggle, compacted snow giving way to their relentless movements.

Jon's mind raced, analyzing the situation, searching for an opening or an advantageous position. He knew that brute force alone might not be enough to overcome Tormund's might, but strategy and finesse could tilt the scales in his favour.

Jon disengaged his axe from the clash, swiftly stepping back to create distance between himself and Tormund.

Tormund, ever the formidable opponent, remained poised, his eyes fixed on Jon, ready to counter any move he made. The tension in the air was palpable as both warriors assessed their next moves, their breaths mingling with the cold gusts of wind.

Realizing that he needed to adapt, Jon swiftly adjusted his stance, readying himself for the next exchange. With calculated precision, Jon lunged forward, aiming not for a confrontation, but for a swift and evasive manoeuvre. He aimed to outmanoeuvre Tormund, capitalizing on his agility and quick reflexes.

As Tormund's massive sword cleaved through the air once again, Jon evaded the strike with a swift sidestep. Seizing the opportunity, he launched a counterattack, aiming for Tormund's exposed flank.

Jon's heart raced as his quick manoeuvre successfully hooked Tormund's sword, disarming him momentarily. However, before he could fully capitalize on this advantage, a chilling whistling sound pierced the air, alerting Jon to incoming danger. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, narrowly evading an arrow that whizzed over his head, its origin hidden from his view.

As Jon sought to regain his footing, Tormund seized the opportunity, delivering a powerful kick that sent him sprawling onto the cold forest floor. The impact knocked the axe out of Jon's grasp, causing it to skid and tumble away, just out of his reach.

As Tormund swung his fist towards Jon's face, fueled by the rage and intensity of their battle, Jon's reflexes kicked into high gear. In a surprising twist of strength, Jon caught Tormund's incoming punch, his grip firm and unwavering, Tormunds eyes widened at the move, and with a swift and calculated motion, Jon retaliated, delivering a powerful blow to Tormund's stomach, causing him to gasp for air, momentarily winded.

The unexpected turn of events left Tormund momentarily stunned, his momentum halted by Jon's counterattack. Sensing an opportunity to seize the advantage, Jon's focus remained razor-sharp. He knew that this was a critical moment that could tip the scales in his favour.

As Rattleshirt, another formidable opponent, attempted to exploit the momentary distraction, charging in with his sword raised high. Recognising Rattleshirt's vulnerability as he left his body exposed, Jon swiftly reacted.

With a surge of energy and determination, Jon unleashed a forceful kick, propelling Rattleshirt off his feet and hurtling towards a nearby tree. The impact reverberated through the forest as Rattleshirt collided with the solid trunk, momentarily disoriented.

Having dealt with both the men, Jon looks around but cannot find the archer, deciding not to waste any more time he runs back through the forest dodging bushes and trees, he has to make it back to the cave and check whether Tyene and Missandei were alright.

Jon makes it back to the cave and goes into the entrance As Jon's heart pounded in his chest from the unexpected ambush, he found himself restrained from behind, a woman's arm wrapped tightly around his torso. A cold, sharp blade pressed against his throat, a chilling reminder of the danger he was now facing. With his movements restricted, he could only assess the situation within the cave from his constrained vantage point.

Inside, illuminated by the flickering firelight, sat a man and a woman, seemingly unperturbed by the chaos unfolding. Tyene and Missandei, though physically unharmed, were bound, their hands tightly secured behind their backs. Concern surged through Jon's veins, knowing that their safety and his own now hung in the balance.

With a voice laced with both caution and defiance, Jon spoke, his words measured and deliberate, hoping to glean information and assess the intentions of his captors. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The woman behind him tightened her grip, a warning to remain silent. The man by the fire glanced up, his eyes bearing a mixture of cunning and indifference. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his presence commanding attention.

"We thought you were a crow when we saw you leave your cave, though finding these two girls in here seems to have dissuaded us of that notion," The man says with a small smile.

"Maybe you've heard of me before, I am Mance Rayder, though you southerners love to call me the King beyond the wall"

———————————————————

High atop the Fist of the First Men, a chilling wind blew across the desolate landscape. King Robert Baratheon, a hulking figure adorned in fur and armour, stood before a group of wildling prisoners who knelt in submission. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the captives, his wrath simmering beneath a mask of stoic determination.

In a display of authority, King Robert announced that he would personally face each wildling prisoner in trial by combat. The prisoners exchanged nervous glances, knowing they faced an immense challenge against a formidable adversary.

One by one, the wildlings stepped forward to face the wrath of King Robert. He stripped off his cloak, revealing the brawn beneath his armour. His hands gripped his weapon tightly as he sized up his opponents, relishing the prospect of combat.

As the first challenger lunged forward with a crude weapon, King Robert deftly parried the attack and retaliated with a devastating blow. The clash of steel echoed through the icy air as the king displayed his unparalleled prowess. One by one, the wildlings fell before his might, their hopes of survival crushed beneath the weight of his strikes.

King Robert's strength and skill proved overwhelming, and the wildlings soon realized the futility of their resistance. With each death, the king's fury seemed to subside, replaced by a sense of grim satisfaction. He revelled in the thrill of battle, the clash of weapons fueling his primal instincts.

As the last wildling opponent fell, King Robert stood triumphant amidst the fallen bodies. His breath came in heavy bursts, a testament to the exertion of battle. With a commanding presence, he addressed the remaining captives, making it clear that their fate lay in his hands. The survivors were led away, their lives spared for now but forever marked by their encounter with the fearsome king.

King Robert Baratheon, having quelled his anger through combat, descended from the battleground with a sense of satisfaction. Though this would not last long as one of his Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister had come riding up the hill with urgency.

Looking up at the dirty and sweaty form of the Kingsguard, Robert couldn't help but laugh "Finally met your match Kingslayer, did a wildling boy with a pitchfork defeat the mighty swordsman" he mocked.

"No your grace, but it is someone you'll be glad to hear has come beyond the wall" Jaime replies ignoring the insults.

"The son of Rhaegar Targaryen" He continued with a smirk.

The King's face remains passive for a while, eventually, a small smile seems to fall onto his face though it would be easy to miss "Pack up we are marching" Robert simply says before heading for his tent.

(AN: So the next chapter will be the next one and then after that will be an interlude and then chapter 10 will be the start of the new arc. Hope you enjoyed it, nothing much happened, just Jon meeting two more special ladies and his teacher. He will need Tormund to train him on how to become a lover of Bears. Anyway those you enjoyed it tell me what ya think)