SEQUEL TO POPPY
❝ The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of Earth. Darkness will be your cloak. Your shield. Your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong. ❞
GAME OF THRONES - SEASON 4-7
THE POPPY SAGA - 3
THE MOR...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jon was conflicted, to say the least. Half of him wished that free folk wouldn't come. That they would heed his warning and stay on the other side of the Wall or find a more discrete way through. Though, another part of him knew that if an invasion didn't happen the men of the night's watch would surely brand him a traitor.
He had killed their Lord Commander, broken his vows with Ygritte, and spent countless days in enemy camp. There was no doubt in his mind that Ser Allistair, a man who already had it out for him, would vote to behead him. What was worse was that this time, he was sure there was nothing that Maester Aemon, nor his brothers could do to save him.
"What was she like?" Sam asked interrupting the silence they stood in. From the top of the wall, Jon felt like he could see everything. On one side was a world he hadn't even made a dent in exploring and on the other was a world he was shunned from.
Though, at Sam's words, a million things came rushing into his mind. The first time he stood here with his Uncle Benjen when he'd caught Lord Tyrion pissing off the edge of the wall, climbing up the wall with the Wildling, and kissing Ygritte.
Kissing Hermione.
"Maybe we should just run away," she had told him in this very spot. "Grow old together."
These were the words that haunted him both in his sleep and awake because he should've said yes. He should've gone with her and Tyrion and begged his father to take hold of one of the abandoned strongholds up north.
Hermione, Hermione, Hermione.
Hermione dead. Hermione gone. Hermione six feet below.
Since Sam had revealed their death, whispers had taken hold of Castle Black. Betrayal and lies, they were calling her the Red Bride. The men traded tales of how the Freys had taken turns on her and—
"She... she had red hair," Jon answered partly to get his mind from going ballistic and partly to get Sam to stop staring at him.
"Oh? How big were her feet?" Sam poked sarcastically.
