Hear me Roar - English version

CHAPTER 47 - That is why Jon must take command

               When I reopen my eyes, Sansa is lying beside me, and the moon is at its zenith. Since I seem unlikely to fall back asleep, I slowly slip out of our bed. Before leaving the room, I promise Arrow I will return quickly and order her to protect Sansa in my absence.

               The cold corridors of Castle Black give me goosebumps. This place is strange, inhabited by the souls of all the Crows having ever trodden upon its ground. The North is like that: we only live to honour the memory of those who preceded us.

               It is for this exact reason that we are going to retake Winterfell. I heard Sansa and Jon's conversation. My brother says he is tired of fighting after having seen so much horror and lost so many people – not to mention the fact that he has no army worthy of the name, only the remainder of the wildlings. He will have to realize, however, that we are not going to give up. I did not survive all of this to pull out the white flag before the final confrontation even begins.

               Once in the courtyard, I grab a training sword and make it twirl around me. Roose confiscated all my weapons upon my arrival at Winterfell, and Ramsay made sure I couldn't train. So, you can guess that, even though I must use my left hand, I haven't felt this alive since my departure from the Brotherhood.

"I thought southern little ladies couldn't fight," a voice says behind me.

               On guard, I turn toward him. All these men may have taken vows, but they remain men who, moreover, haven't seen a woman in months, if not years. I will not put my life in the hands of any of them. However, I relax somewhat because it is the red-haired wildling who welcomed me this morning.

"Easy, princess," he warns me with a grin. "I come as a friend."

"Usually, I know the names of my friends."

"Tormund. They call me Giantsbane."

"Why?"

"Lower your weapon first, and then we can talk."

               That seems to me a perfectly legitimate request. I put the sword back down. I wouldn't be able to do much with it using my bad hand anyway.

               Tormund and I settle on the wooden steps so he can explain the origin of his moniker... When he was young, he killed a giant and lay down in his wife's bed. She woke up, mistook him for her baby, and suckled him. Even though this story is surreal, the wildling seems utterly convinced of it, so I refrain from any comment. Surely my King's Landing mind is too closed off.

"You're supposed to be dead, aren't you?"

"I just found out," I reply with a chuckle. "The Queen must have made people believe that so no one would try to find me."

"The Queen?"

"Cersei," I explain. "My mother-in-law. I married her son, a true bastard. But he's dead, and everyone says I committed suicide because I was too sad."

"From here, you look very much alive."

"I am not so sure..."

               I enjoy talking with Tormund. Given that he is a wildling, I do not feel forced to use pompous vocabulary and convoluted sentence structures. Everything is simple. I cannot help but think back to Bronn. We used to speak to each other as if we were in the middle of a performance. Everything was a pretext for banter. I miss him...

               After several long minutes spent telling each other about our lives, I find myself forced to leave him. My eyelids are becoming too heavy for me to hold a conversation.