⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀nineteen

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nineteen. craster's keep

 craster's keep

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loc. craster's keep, the haunted forest. 299AC





⠀⠀⠀IT WAS NOT often that Carsen found herself wallowing in violent thoughts, and yet here she was, praying for something to swoop from the sky and rip out her brothers' tongues.

⠀⠀⠀"Having a rough time of it?"

⠀⠀⠀"Nothing's killed me yet."

⠀⠀⠀"Your arse killed the sledge."

⠀⠀⠀"You offered me a ride!"

⠀⠀⠀"I just wanted you to shut up about your damn blisters."

⠀⠀⠀She wasn't sure why she found their usual chatter so anthemic today, only that it drove under her skin and sat there like an itch. Her head was sore and sensitive, mostly from the glare of the clouded opalescent sky that was heaving rain like a geyser. Twice she had urged her horse on faster, only to find her friends' voices floated relentlessly after her like snowflakes in the wind.

⠀⠀⠀As they approached the large encampment Carsen knew must be Craster's Keep, she dismounted, leading her horse by the reins after Commander Mormont. She stopped at the frey as her friends piled beside her, forming a line as they all stared at Craster's Keep, her boots sunk into the soft, wet mud.

⠀⠀⠀At least fifteen girls that Carsen could see walked around glumly. They all looked bedraggled, pale, and miserable. Some carried heavy armfuls of firewood that made their knees buckle. Some hefted huge tin pails of water or stew. They all looked like they would snap under their dense loads. I was like that once, Carsen thought with a pang. But she was stronger now. She had to be.

⠀⠀⠀She didn't feel very strong at the moment—in fact, all she wanted to do was sleep beside a fire and put something cold against her head, but first she led her horse to the tiny, disgusting stables and tied him to a post. She walked back over to where her friends were grouping together, gazing out at the keep.

⠀⠀⠀"Is that a girl?" Sam asked suddenly, his pale eyes following one of the older girls clutching a basket of parsley. "I haven't seen a girl in six months." He sounded as dazed as Carsen suddenly felt. Had it truly been six months? Each day here melted into the next until they became an impossibly long, cold line, each dawn indecipherable from the one before it. Before two months were up, you were one with Castle Black—you were the snow falling from the heavens and the clanging of sparring swords in the courtyard and the smell of woodsmoke and copper than hung around the place like a mist. Carsen shivered; who would want to be one with such a bleak, loveless place? We're all bleak, loveless places now, whispered a voice at the back of her mind. You especially.

CARPE NOCTEM, jon snowWhere stories live. Discover now