CARPE NOCTEM, jon snow

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀forty five

forty five. no one's here to sleep

loc. castle black, the wall. 300AC

IN THE MORN only a week later, Mole's Town burnt.

They could see the smoke rise in a dark grey tangle towards the opaline sky, which seemed heavy and dull with the promise of war. The mood about the Castle was dour; although the mutineers at Craster's had been taken care of, and so Rayder and his army would still be operating under the misbelief that Castle Black boasted an army of one thousand, Carsen and her brothers knew the truth well enough.

They had barely a tenth of that strength—and once the free folk attacked the first time, they'd know it too.

She sat upon a sill, guarded as ever by her revolving circle of friends. They posted at her feet like shepherd dogs, teeth bared upon every man who gave Carsen a lingering glance as they passed. They ate—something that barely qualified as stew, with bone marrow and root vegetables. Thorne had decided to ration until the battle was over, though Carsen figured they could've used the extra strength.

Grenn, Pyp and Edd were deep in conversation when Jon approached with a bowl and cup of wine. He still winced slightly when he walked, prompting Carsen to ask, "How's your leg?"

"Better, some," he admitted, manoeuvring himself carefully upon the bench. "They wanted to give me milk of the poppy, but it clouds the senses. So I settled for wine. I shall still be able to fight."

"I should hope," someone said dryly; behind Jon, Halder the stonemason lingered. "We have need of everyone who knows which end of a spear to stick in a wildling."

"The pointy one," Jon said, and a small flicker went over his face as though he were remembering something.

"Noye said you'd be on the towers with a crossbow, anyhow," Halder said. "No need to work that lame leg of yours. He also said if you fall off not to come crying."

Jon raised his cup of wine sardonically. Halder lingered a second more, eyes flickering from Jon upwards to Carsen. She blinked in surprised as he stared, before Jon cleared his throat. "Was that all, Halder?"

"W—yes. That's all." With a clearing of the throat, Halder tore his eyes from Carsen and hurried off. Jon watched him go, eyes trained upon his back with the slightest frown upon his face, and Carsen resisted the urge to sink into the bench.

"What a fool," Edd grunted into his stew. "Half the lads have been tripping over themselves since you got back, you know?"

"I'm quite aware. I didn't think you all were accompanying me everywhere for fun," Carsen muttered. Jon's expression became passably more pinched.

Grenn snorted. "The way they're acting, you'd think they'd never seen a lady before."

"You've never seen a lady," Pyp said, predictably.