THE NORTH BEYOND | JON SNOW

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Red's eyes flitted constantly to my face, waiting for me to make a comment about what happened. I kept my eyes firmly trained in front of me, one hand rubbing Night's fur gently, looking around for any crows following us. My head felt heavy and my vision blurred and swam in front of me. When we were far enough away that I considered an attack from behind us unlikely, I bent over, and let out of the vomit that had been silently creeping up my throat since we started walking. I coughed and wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. My head instantly felt lighter and the throbbing in my chest subsided. However tough I may be, I had never danced so close to death before. Rubbing my eyes, I looked at Red and carried on walking.

"Where are we going?" She wondered, following me closely and eyeing the wolves behind her uncertainly. This is why she and I got along so well, she knew when to ask, and when to pretend like it had never happened.

"The Wall, if we catch any luck." I told her.

"And how are we to climb it?" She stops walking and folds her hands.

Shit, I forgot. Only enough climbing gear for one person. I let out a frustrated growl. Fuck me. The only place close to here that might have boots and a pick would be the Keep, and Craster wasn't like to welcome me with open arms after me leaving like I did.

"You could go to Craster-" I started, but then stopped when I saw her furious glare.

"Is that where you've been bedding, with that daughter-fucking crow?" Her face scrunches up in disgust. It was well-known that Craster's blood ran black, his father was a crow who fucked some wildling woman, though he'd have your tongue if you ever cared to speak about it around him.

But her expression made me want to defend myself. "And why's not? He offered me protection from Mance, and I gave him the same of the blue eyed gods he sacrificed his boys to. Do you know how hard it was finding somewhere that wouldn't offer my head to Mance first chance they got? At least the bastard was honest." Somewhere through my ramble, I realised that I wasn't just defending myself, I was defending Craster too.

Red looked at me for a long time and scowled, "I'm still not begging. Not to him."

I heaved a sigh and threw my arms up. "Who, then? Red, everyone for miles is either dead or has fucked off to Mance."

"We're probably gonna die. We've never climbed it before, and even if we do, the crows on the other side will kill us anyway."

I shook my head irritably.

She was probably right, she wasn't saying anything that I hadn't thought of before but that wasn't what I wanted to believe. I wanted to think that there was still a chance, a glimmer of hope that there was a better place that wasn't harrowingly cold and silent, where even blue eyed Walkers couldn't reach us. Somewhere where the sun never stopped shining and the flowers never stopped blossoming. Because to think any different meant death, it meant resigning myself to this existence of constant paranoia and that was sometimes, when I woke screaming, slathered in sweat and unable to breathe, worse than death.

"No. We can do this, easy. I'll go back to Craster's. I've a friend there." Of course, what I meant by friend was the girl who I had left to get raped by her own father.

Helga.

I didn't tell this to Red of course, she thinks that I had Craster's blessing to leave. Helga had no reason to help me, in fact, her first reaction might even be to go and tell Craster after my refusal to help her. Save for her, no-one else there would take a piss for me, let alone steal anything. But she was my last hope.

Light was fading by the time we had made camp in a semi-sheltered cave. The wind had settled down but I still shivered, it was dark and cold so I suggested building a fire. Red disagreed quickly and we argued for a while about whether we should light a fire. I tried to explain that what 60 blood-hungry wolves couldn't keep away deserved the honour to killing us, but Red was adamant that a fire would only attract things that we didn't want coming our way. In the end, I told her that since she was the one who wouldn't get her own pick-axe and boots, that she had no say in whether or not we built a fire and that seemed to make her quiet.

We huddled next to the small fire, appreciating the warm flames in silence when Red first spoke.

"Mance thinks about that night a lot." She said quietly, staring into the flames. "So do I. They thought I would have known where you were." She chuckles and I laugh with her, remembering the trouble we used to cause. We were opposites, but we were so close. She was the lucky one, kissed by fire and I was the shrieking demon baby, carried to camp by a wolf. People would call us Red and Blue, her for the red hair and me for my blue eyes.

"For a while, I would see her in my dreams all the time. If I close my eyes, I can still see her all pale-like and bleeding. She was the only mother I knew, no-one remembers that. I must have saw her thousands of times but the only time I remember her clearly is that night." I told Red, watching the flames dance around. For a moment, I almost saw her face in the flames but then I looked away and the image was gone.

I yawned. I wondered how long it was since I had slept well as I carefully lay down and willed myself to sleep.