CARPE NOCTEM, jon snow

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ten

ten. dispute

loc. castle black, the wall. 298AC

CONTENT WARNING.
attempted sexual assault

⠀⠀⠀"Sparrow. Mormont wants to see you."

⠀⠀⠀Carsen glanced up at Thorne skulking in the courtyard doorway. His lined face was as grim as ever, giving nothing away, and yet still she felt her heart leap with relief at the words. She was meant to be sparring—only her partner was Rogon, the boy she had elbowed into the dirt during Halder's attack on Sam. Since then, she'd felt his glares across each room, and it unsettled her more and more. Now, paired together for training, it seemed more like Rogon was trying to beat her into the ground than learn a thing about swordsmanship.

          Carsen lowered her sword and stepped back, her eyes lingering warily on the boy. His jaw tightened before he turned to spar with some wiry blond youth Carsen didn't know, and she took the opportunity to back away, sheathing her practise sword in the rack as she went.

⠀⠀⠀Warily, she made her way to Mormont's quarters, wondering how the cold seemed to burrow further into her inside than outside. Stopping short of the heavy wooden door, she braced herself and knocked.

⠀⠀⠀At the command, she entered, closing the door behind her.

⠀⠀⠀There was Mormont, sitting behind the desk with parchment, inkwells, envelopes, beeswax seals all sorts scattered around him. But it was the man before him that gave Carsen pause, a feeling of disquiet settling over her skin.

⠀⠀He was a tall man, built slender but strong. His sleek black hair was caught fast in a simple braid down to his waist, adorned here and there with thin ribbons of blue and bronze. Carsen could only see the back of him, but could tell his longcoat was made of fine black satin that grazed the ankles of his thick leather shoes with the wispy tips of fleece peeking over the hem. As the man made to turn around, Carsen dropped her eyes to the floor, feeling her heart hammer in her throat. She dared glance up only briefly, and as her gaze caught the man's eyes —cold eyes, blue as ice shimmering on a lake—and the disquiet grew, her skin beginning to buzz.

⠀⠀⠀It couldn't be. It couldn't be.

⠀⠀⠀"Ah, Carsen. Come in, and close the door," Mormont called from behind the man's figure.

⠀⠀⠀She did as she was bid, taking her time about it—and jumped out of her skin when he spoke. "No need for that, Ser Mormont. I was just about to take my departure." His accent was not Westerosi—but that didn't mean... that could mean anything...