Night's End (Game Of Thrones)

One

At this point, she wasn't sure if she'd had hands anymore. Or feet. She couldn't see two inches in front of her from the snow and she wasn't sure how much farther she could walk. When she felt a hard surface in front of her, she pulled her arm back and slammed on it. Pulling her arm back once more, she released another blow. She waited. For anything. For someone to come out and rescue her from the sharp, icey winds that made her unsteady. But there was no one. She forced her arm up again, this time when she hit the door, she fell to her knees. No one would hear her. Her body had gave in. Her face slammed against the ice on the ground, the left side of her face became more numb. Her eyes focused on the wood on the gate. She studied the cracks and grooves. She turned on her back. The sky was white. The ground was white. Everything was white. Her breathing began to slow. Just as her eyes were fluttering shut, she heard a wolf howl. She was certain that this was death. 

"She won't be waking up, now would ya stop starin' at er'?" a voice said. 

"Ya don't know that, Brant. Give er' time." another let out.

"Time?" the man laughed, "she can take all the time she want, she ain't wakin' up. She came all the way out here through a storm. She's good as dead."

"Men have done it before."

"Men have. But dammit, Asten, she ain't no man. She's a child."

"You see the size of that chest? She ain't no child." They both began to laugh. Her eyes shot open at the sound of their laughter. Her breathing was heavy. She no longer saw white. There were two men. One was sitting in a chair by a fire. Another leaned against the wall. Both had layers of black fur on their backs and swords at their hips. Their laughter ceased as their eyes widened. Her brows were knitted, she was confused.

"Brant," Asten swallowed, "go get the Lord Commander." The man leaning against the wall pulled the door open and ran out. An icy gust of wind blew in before it slammed shut, sending chills down her back. She sat there staring at Asten. He did the same. He stood up and walked over to a table in the room. He picked up a pitcher and a metal cup. "I knew you'd wake up." He filled the cup and turned around.

"What?" she asked faintly, her voice a bit raspy. Almost afraid to go near her, he hesistated for a moment and then walked over to her. He handed her the cup. She stared at it and began to drink.

"You were out cold for four days. The lot of us didn't think you'd wake." She didn't say a thing. All she could do was stare. "Your lucky Ghost found ya. Or else ya woulda been lef' out there."

"Ghost?" She asked.

"Lord Commander Snow's got himself one of them big wolves. Led us right to ya. He almost had to dig ya outta the snow." Just thinking of the snow made her body tremble. She moved around under the blanket only to realize that she hadn't been wearing clothes. She began to panic.

"Wha-what happens to my clothes?" She asked quickly. She searched the room. Right beside her on a small table, her clothes were laid out. Her dagger was in its holster at the top of the pile.

"Hey, hey! Calm yourself, bodies warm faster when we're naked. Ya nearly froze to death." He stood up and began walking closer to the bed. She reached over to the table and pulled her dagger out of its holster. She went up on her knees. One hand holding the dagger, the other holding the blanket to her chest.

"That's close enough." She said. The door opened, startling her. In the doorway stood another man. He wore the same black fur on his back. His hair was dark, long, and curly. The hair on his face was short, his lips full. His skin was quite pale and his eyebrows were furrowed as if he were confused as to what was happening. He stepped into the room. The gentleness in his walk surprised her. He didn't make a sound. At his waist, a sword, one with a white wolf on its pommel. He looked at the man she was pointing the dagger towards.

"Leave us." He said. She wasn't sure whether it was the cold wind or the sound of his voice that sent chills down her back. When Asten left and closed the door, the chills did not cease. Still holding the dagger, the man studied her; she was likely just as pale as he was, her hair seemed a dark chocolate brown. It was long but tangled. It fell down her back. Her lips were a light shade of pink and must have been unquestionably soft. The tips of her cheeks shared the color of her lips. Her eyes filled with grey iris's. She gripped the cover of the bed over her chest yet the sides of her body and her thigh remained uncovered. The skin looked smooth, enough to drive any man crazy.

He removed the fur from his back and placed it on a hook by the fire. He took off some layers of his clothing until all he wore was a loose, cotton shirt and leather trousers. He hung his clothing on other hooks by the fire. He placed the holstered sword by the bed and walked over to the fire. He gripped the chair and began to pull it closer to the girl. After moving a bit, she lifted the dagger, signaling that he had moved close enough. He released his grip and sat down. "I don't plan to hurt you." He said. He leaned forward, one elbow on his knee. He held his hand out to her. For a moment she continued to stare at him. Partly because he was such a view and partly because he wanted to take away her only weapon. She leaned forward, gripping the cover to her chest tighter than ever and placed the dagger in his hand. Leaning back again, she used both arms to hold the cover. She moved it to cover her thigh as well, sending disappoint through his body. He had both elbows on his knees now and he studied the blade.

"What's your name?" He asked, he let out a small smile as he continued to study it. For some reason, she felt a bit more... relaxed.

"Aiana" she said as she let out a breathe she hadn't realized she was holding. "Just Ana." She said.

"My names Jon Snow. I'm the Lord Commander here, at Castle Black." He lifted his gaze from the blade to meet her eyes. She flinched when she saw his eyes were looking directly at hers. He placed the dagger in its holster.

"I know." She let out. After a moment too long of eye contact, he swallowed and closed his eyes.

"What were you doing out there? In the middle of a storm?" He asked.

"I was coming here."

"Why?" It was silent for a moment. She hadn't thought about how she would answer that question.

"I came to join the Night's Watch." She said in a low voice. He hadn't said a thing. He hadn't laughed. He stared at her. No emotion was present on his face but confusion.

"Women can't join the Night's Watch." He said. He stood up and walked over by a chest on the far side of the room. "I'll have a horse ready for you when the storm passes. You go home then."

"No! I did not make that climb through the storm, on foot, to be sent away." She urged.

"You shouldn't have made the climb at all. You'll serve as a distraction for the men. You go home." He said as he shuffled through the chest.

"I'll cut my hair! Tie down my breasts! I won't serve as any distraction."

"What of your family?"

"I can fight." She blurted. "Put a sword in my hand, I can fight." He stopped his search and turned around. For a moment he stared and then he began to laugh. It was a warm laugh. Wrinkles formed around his eyes as the vibratious tone of his voice went on laughing. When he realized that I had not been laughing, he stopped.

"Fine." He let out another chuckle, "You fight tomorrow. If what you say is true and you can fight, then maybe you can stay." He said. She smiled very slightly, trying to hold back her relief. He reached for the fur pelt and threw it over his back. He grabbed the remainder of his clothing and his sword. "I will find another place to sleep. Good night." And with that, he opened the door and walked out. That was when she realized that these were his private quarters. She stood up and walked to the door. She opened it, barely a crack and peered out. It was snowing faster than the ground could hold. There were torches lit up everywhere. She was on the second level. Jon had disappeared. There were men walking along the top of the gate, patrolling. Somewhere by larger fire pits. The night was black. A small smile stretched across her face once again.  She shut the door and locked it. Making her way over to the bed. She pulled the dagger out of the holster and laid down on the bed. She gripped it tightly with her hand under the pillow. She slept on her stomach, her breasts pressed against the firm bed. Good night. She repeated in her head. His voice rang through her mind. With that, she shut her eyes and slipped back into sleep.