Snowy Paths

(A/N: 3 or 4 days since last post but feels like forever again.)

Scaling the seven hundred foot tall wall of ice wasn't impossible per se, just that it wouldn't be worth the time it took to do so.

And, adaptable as humans were, they had built a sort of lift system to go up, consisting of winch-drawn metal cages that groaned under my weight the moment I stepped onto one. I was only joined by King Stannis, Davos and Melisandre with two brothers of the Night's Watch to serve as guides, Cotter Pyke and Emmett.

"It's been a hundred years since a King last came here," Cotter Pyke remarked, scratching his pox-marked beard. He quickly corrected himself, "I meant no offense, Your Grace."

Stannis grunted, "I take none. They were fools to ignore the Night's Watch."

When the ones responsible for the winch tried to send us up, it croaked and trembled, refusing to budge a single inch. It only moved when two more men joined the four already trying.

"That's a first. You'd think we were moving a hors-" Cotter knocked Emmett over the head with a gloved hand and the youth complied, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

The men of the Night's Watch seemed more than accustomed to the biting cold, but Davos started shivering halfway up. Cotter Pyke however, seemed more interested in looking at me with narrowed eyes.

He held up his hands to his mouth and exhaled a plume of hot breath as if trying to show me something, "I've been here most my life. I haven't seen one man that doesn't shiver like his cock's about to pop off this time of the year even with furs. You're not even cold."

"How can you tell?" I smiled, amused.

"That bitch neither," He motioned to Melisandre with his head. "But least she's breathing the same as us."

"The bitch can hear you."

"You see me caring?"

I cast a glance at Stannis and... the King was largely disinterested in what Cotter had to say, even when the Commander of Eastwatch slithered a hand to the dirk on his belt and stepped closer to me.

"Speak, or I'll spill your blood right here and see for myself."

I could only cock my head at his boldness. Unfortunately, it seemed he had more guts than he did intellect with how he thought confronting me was a good idea. In the end, I smiled, "Try me."

He was just being cautious, I could tell by the look in his eyes.

He narrowed his eyes then backed away, resting against the cage's railings, "I'll be watching you."

"By Marika, consider my timbers thoroughly shivered," I let out a small laugh. Just as he released the dirk from his hand, I put a firm hand on his shoulder. "That name, Pyke. Ironborn? You gotten word about what happened there yet?"

He tried to shove my hand away, but found it to be harder than he was expecting.

"Some rumours," Cotter relented finally. "A load of hogwash."

Melisandre's lips curved into a thin smile. She cocked her head, "It isn't a rumour. The Iron Islands are gone."

Perhaps the old sorceress hadn't liked being called a bitch for no reason, or maybe she was enjoying this like I was.

Cotter's cracked lips quivered, but then he snarled and spit out into the gradually increasing depths below us, "Good fucking riddance. My mother was a tavern wench, and you know damn well how the ironborn go about shagging a woman."

It really was surprising how just about everybody seemed to loathe the ironborn like they were some kind of plague. I had yet to encounter a single person who expressed even a hint of sorrow over the destruction of the Iron Islands, and they were meant to be a whole kingdom.

The rest of the ride up passed in awkward silence, with Emmett stealing glances at Melisandre every so often without knowing her true nature. The woman had no need for sleep, no need to eat, and required no rest.

She had magic, and as she'd once shared, it had grown much stronger and effective once I made my presence known. What it spelled for the sorcerers and the creatures of magic that still prowled about in the dark, I didn't truly know. But I could make several highly educated guesses.

For one, any plans they had would be accelerated.

I halted my thoughts when I realised we had reached the top, a few men clad in black walked about, but not nearly enough to hold back an assault from a force the size reported. That would change with Stannis and the Northerners here.

Cotter Pyke led Stannis away, followed by Emmet and Davos, but I stayed and looked around.

The wall was undeniably thick, and I was willing to wager there was enough space on here for at least five Crucible Knights to walk side-by-side with little difficulty. That was quite a bit considering how bulky the hulking fuckers could be.

Immobile catapults, trebuchets and scorpions lined the battlements, though some had fallen into disrepair over years of complete disregard and fires burned alongside them, even during the day.

"Do you think we will be able to face the Others as the Lord wills?" Melisandre spoke suddenly, her words melodious as always. "Or am I wrong?"

I pursed my lips, "Why are you delusional?"

She bowed her head, "As you say, my lord."

"Woman."

She didn't believe me. No, she had the gall to smile at me as if I were a child throwing some kind of tantrum. What she did not understand was the great cruelty she could inspire in the hearts of her fellow men if they took my actions as some kind of gospel.

If they followed my actions, from their subjective human rationale, they'd be killing each other over simple words. They'd then twist and turn their beliefs to suit their corruption.

The human heart was capable of great kindness, I greatly admired that. But, I could not disillusion myself about the equally great cruelty they were capable of.

"Ours is the Lord of Light, of fire, of life. A creature born of fire is his greatest gif-"

"I'll say it again," I turned and stared into her crimson eyes. "I'm just a bored wanderer with a bleeding heart. Nothing more. If you keep at this, I'm going to stop you the way I know best and your so-called duty will end right there."

Moments passed in silence interrupted only by howling wind and shivering men.

"I... I understand," She finally relented, lowering her head further. "I shall speak no more of this."

"Good."

I walked over to the edge and whistled, "Roach! Come along, boy!"

A single moment later, Roach burst out of the distant treeline, kicking up a storm of snow as he galloped to the wall, looking as if he was about to slam into it. However, he changed trajectories at the last moment and started running upwards, leaving charred footsteps along the wall as he scaled it faster than the wind behind him.

Finally, he jumped over, casting a large shadow and landed with a boom before neighing. Well, it was more of a roar than a neigh and he looked more like some kind of mythical beast than a horse but he would always be Roach for me.

My only ever-lasting companion.

He snorted and stomped on the icy floor, as if challenging others to do the same as he did. 

"Roach, behave," I stroked his stony neck and cast a glance at Melisandre. "Tell Stannis I'm gonna go and do some scouting."

"As you will it."

"Come on, boy. It's a straight run. We can be there in less than an hour."

He snorted again, in challenge to my assumption. I took one last look at the men gathering below before mounting him and nudging the side of his belly with my foot. The Wall was straight, and once Roach took to galloping, all signs of life faded out within moments.

In simple words, it was abandoned.

The patrols disappeared, and though we passed by many catapults and trebuchets, there was no life to be found. Beyond the edge, on the other side separated by the ice, there were deep, dark forests, and distant mountains pierced the white sky beyond cold mists.

Somewhere along the way, it started snowing and I appreciated my hindsight in steal-...er... appropriating the raven feather cloak from Lord Tytos Blackwood for the aesthetic. Truthfully, I didn't feel the cold, of course I didn't but there was snow.

And after the long crusade against the Fire Giants at the Mountaintops of the Giants, with the Tarnished, the Crucible Knights and Lord Godfrey, I doubted snow would ever feel cold again. Especially after Borealis the Freezing Fog.

Roach snorted, and spilled flame from his nostrils.

The Wall was three hundred miles long, and halfway across laid Castle Black. Emmett had told me the wall started coiling like a slithering snake past the Castle to the other end.

"He was right." I jumped off Roach a hundred metres away, and walked over to the edge. Down below, I could see a castle that was... black. Truly, the ones responsible for naming things in this world were pioneers of the literary arts.

They had named a black castle, Castle Black.

"I am awed," I clapped my hands with a laugh.

Beyond the 'black' castle, much like Eastwatch, there were tents and pavilions and men strutting about, getting into fights, eating or drinking. The only difference was that the host here was almost twice the size of the one at Eastwatch, and the men here had much more weaponry.

I also spotted the roaring giant banner of House Umber and white sunburst on black coat-of-arms of House Karstark.

Robb had left over half his host in the North for a reason I could only attribute to youthful inexperience.

Unceremoniously, I stepped off the edge into a free fall, only correcting my posture a few metres from the ground. It was quite the experience. Though the part that followed was not so pleasant, I ended up buried into the snow up till my waist.

Thankfully, I'd secured my satchel with a hand so nothing of importance was lost.

But, it seemed my sense of humour was lost on the cold and hardy folk of the North. I was surrounded by half a dozen riders in mere moments, drawn by the noise, and half a dozen pikes were pointed at me.

"Name yourself! What's your business here?!"

I held up a hand, "Hail. I'm sightseeing."

"Sight-... what now?" One of them cocked his head.

"Gallivanting. Joshing around. Travelling?"

"Fancy southron words."

They did not appreciate my vocabulary.

No, one of them even spit on the ground.

"You'll come with us. We'll see what Lord Harrion makes of you," One of them dismounted and slowly inched closer, face hidden behind a coif. His chest had a flayed man sewn on it.

"Sure," I shrugged my hands with a small, amused grin.

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Hope you enjoyed.

Be sure to comment your thoughts.

We're back in business soo, y'all know the deal. 400 PS for extra chapter.

Fate is trying to pull me back in. I keep thinking about that fic I posted with the mafioso mc who had the yellow sign. Now I wanna do a full story of that type but with the Blasting Rod from Toaru instead of the Yellow Sign.

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