A Jon Snow sequel: Beyond the North (GAME OF THRONES)

II. King of the Free Folk

The winter wind cut through the forest like a million blades as snow fell sideways through the thicket. At least two feet of snow covered the grass, suffocating it beneath it's crushing weight. A large stag came wandering through, penetrating the mound of snow. It's hoof left a small hole, exposing the dead grass beneath with every step. As he passed through the stripped trees looking for any source of food, he kept his senses on high alert. The stag had drifted from his flock in the midst of the previous night's blizzard and ended up alone in the quiet dense woods.

His head perked up upon seeing a thick, old tree coated in rich black bark. The stag practically licked its lips and slowly inched towards its meal. Taking one last glance around, the stag then took a piece of bark between its teeth and pulled downwards to tear it from the tree. He chewed slowly, enjoying the fibrous skin of the trunk.

With the whistle of the wind came an arrow cutting through the icy air.  The stag turned towards the sound of a bow string snapping back, but by the time he realized what was happening, the blade had pierced through it's coat and skin.  The arrowhead punctured the deer's heart and the force from the arrow knocked his body to the base of the trunk.  The stag's breath stopped in an instant and it's glossy eyes fell lifeless.  The bark in his mouth fell once his jaw loosened and the buck lay dead in the snow.

Out from the thick wood a tall, lanky man emerged with his bow drawn.  Upon realizing his meal had collapsed, the man secured his weapon and began wrapping the creature in a large fabric, tying it up to drag away. 

Snow had fallen once more, creating even less visibility for the traveler attempting to return home.  His white fur clothing kept him warm, but with the heavy snowfall, his vision had suffered greatly.  He paused and released the meat trailing behind him, using both hands he cupped them around his mouth and mimicked an owl as loudly as he could. 

He heard a call back and pushed onward following the sound.  Within mere minutes, he came to a small clearing filled with tents and small fires.  Other white fur covered men, women, and children were walking about the campsite chopping wood, carrying wood, making tools, and many other small survival tasks.  A rather large man with crimson hair joyfully chuckled and ran towards his friend.

"Tomlin!" Tormund greeted eyeing the large sack behind him, "I see you brought dinner!"

Tomlin released the heavy load and sighed, "Was no easy task.. I tracked him for hours.  This meat should last us a few days." 

Tormund slung the gentle beast over his shoulder, blood seeping through the cloth and onto his dirty clothes.  "Come! Help us skin 'em and prepare for dinner!  I'll tell the crow."

Beneath the large tent in the back of the camp sat a man with raven hair.  A  black cloak was draped perfectly over his broad shoulders.  He was as pale as a ghost with eyes as black as a doll.  The white wolf; leader of the free folk.  Jon Snow sat staring down at his cut up hands, examining each scar silently.  His breath was slow and his mind silent. 

Tormund threw the tent flap open excitedly, "Snow! Tomlin's back and he's brought us the meal we've been waiting for! That twig of a man proved me wrong!" Jon smiled softly and stood from his cot for the first time in two days. 

Once Jon had left the wall and headed north with the free folk, he had committed the ultimate crime.  Turning back for him would mean death.  There was nothing left for him in Westeros: no family, no friends, no life, no love.. 

Jon sat in silence and ate the delicious red meat from the buck.  Tormund watched him intensely and took a large bite himself.  His loud chewing grew even more so with each chomp.  Jon's eyes shifted towards his ginger friend. 

"Could you stop that?" He stared quite annoyed.  His serious face softened with a smile as Tormund smiled at him with meat in between his teeth.

"What's got you in a daze?" Tormund began, "You missin' home?  I know I am.. I can't stop thinkin' of Brienne."  He moaned softly and pouted.  Lustful thoughts of the beautiful woman flashed in his primitive brain.

Jon chewed on his meal slowly and spoke, "I don't miss it, but food is becoming more and more scarce and I worry.."

Tormund's thick brows furrowed as he glanced around, he threw his arms out an exclaimed, "Nonsense! We're eating like kings!"

Jon shook his head, "I worry.. If there is anything beyond the North."

Giantsbane finished gnawing on the deer's bone and took out a small knife to begin shaving it to a point, "Listen Snow, we can't go South. We can't go East because we've already been East, so it's either North or West. I put my vote in as North."

Jon ate a bit more, blood from the rare meat dripped down his chin, "We're almost to the top of these mountains... Maybe we'll get a better view once we reach the peaks."

Jon had been going North for nearly three years. The free folk followed him blindly, yet, confidently. They didn't care, as long as they were free. Their journey north had been stunted by a huge wall of mountains, but Jon had to press onward and upward. He had to see for himself if beyond the north was truly the lands of forever winter.

The community of men, women, and children followed the white wolf and the red fox up the mountains for days now. No one was to rest until they reached the top. By this point, the buck meat had been devoured leaving antlers, bones, and the skin to utilize. The free folk were getting hungrier and hungrier with each passing day, until suddenly....

The thick clouds and snow cleared as they pushed through to the peaks. Where they all stood, they felt like Gods standing on the clouds. Jon stood with a glimmer of hope and excitement in his eyes for the first time in a very long time. Below the mountains, was a new land. A land rich in wild grass, forests, water, and life. Some of the people began to cry and cheer with happiness. They had done it, they had reached complete freedom and all threats of Westeros were left behind completely.

Jon could start his new life. He unsheathed his sword and pointed towards the sun, "Today is the day we are free from our shackles of the old world. We claim this new world with happy spirits. Land of freedom!" Tormund yelled with excitement and began scaling down the mountains with the others following behind.

Jon stayed for a moment and soaked in the warm sun onto his porcelain skin. It had been the first time since he's seen the sun in a long time. He smiled softly as Ghost moved next to him. His devoted direwolf glanced up at him then headed down the mountain as well.

"Thank you."