"Of Snow, Sea, and Shadows: Book 1" One Woman Keep [GoT]

Lords and Ladies

I awake at first light the next morning and once again don my black attire. I'm strapping on my boots when a loud crash emanates from outside. As I emerge from my tent I see two very inexperienced recruits having a heated argument in front of the dining tent. Others are nonplussed by the argument, but I sense something about it. It seems like the young gentleman on the left is indeed more than a little intoxicated and his arm is reaching for the blade at his side. As soon as his hand hits the hilt I am behind him, sharp misericorde in one hand poised at his throat, my other hand forcing his head up exposing his neck. The sober one looks at me, concern in his eyes.

"Go before he tries to kill you," I order and the boy goes running

"Now," I say into his ear "Which would you prefer, me passing you up as a drunk guard on duty or trying to kill your friend," he utters a laugh stinking of wine

"You wouldn't hurt me," habitually my grip on his head tightens and I press the blade into his neck until I can smell the tang of blood in the air.

"Believe me now?" I instantly remove the blade and grasp the back of hit collar and yank him to the main tent.

"That's twice this month Lambrey," the old man and I meet again as he considers punishment for the drunk.

"Sorry sir," at least he has his wits about him to have respect for his leader.

"Your punishment," he pauses and his wizened eyes bore into the boy's soul.

"Will be no more wine for three months, even one drop and your head will be off your shoulders faster than you can plead mercy. And, you will formerly apologize to Prior and I am delegating you to two months labour for the blacksmiths. You are dismissed," the boy nods in both agreement and a bid farewell and swiftly departs the tent.

"Thank you..."

"Pardon kind sir, you may call me Ember,"

"No pardon's needed my lady," he says gesturing to the seat next to him

"As there is no need for ladyships and lordships,"

"Very well," he replies

"And you sir?" I enquire, "What may I call you?"

"Mormont," he replies

"Ah, Jeor Mormont," I ponder; thinking that mentioning his son would be a bad idea.

"You know the family?" He asks

"Only from my study of the Houses of the Seven Kingdoms," I reply, saving hassle. He finishes writing a note for what Lambrey had been condemned to and hands the paper to me.

"Would you do me a favour and take this to Snow," he requests. I take the paper slowly and fold it in half.

"You want to send him an unsavoury sight?" I ask as I get up to leave. The old man smiles.

"Afraid of getting in a fight?" he asks

"You know I could kill him before he even knows I'm in the room." I say back

"I know." Is all he says.

As I walk through the dirty makeshift streets of our little camp settlement, I am mostly ignored but as I pass the blacksmiths a familiar face is staring at me. I turn my head and the timid eyes that were once looking are now gazing intently into a steel sword. I stop my journey and as I tuck the little note into my belt I beckon the boy over.

"Tarly," I say and he drops his sword and it clatters against the wooden table.

"Y-yes," he comes up to me then as I'm still rearranging the parchment

"Where can I find Snow at this hour?" I ask finally looking at him. He shrinks physically but there is a fight in his eyes that I know Snow has put there himself.

"I-in his tent!" he squirms where he stands but doesn't move.

"Samwell," I say, trying to relax him a bit with an informal greeting "Seeing as I am new here and do not know the way to Ser Jon Snow's humble lodgings, will you so kindly lead me to them?" I enquire

"He wouldn't like you calling him that, you know," Sam says

"Oh," I smirk at that "He already doesn't like me," Sam looks worried but he gestures ahead of him

"This way, milady," and promptly begins his walk into the throngs of men milling around, eating, training and chatting with one another. We come to the area where my tent sits and I realise that Sam is leading me to the tent just opposite mine. He stops and holds out his hand, gesturing at the right tent.

"Tarly, be a gentleman and let Jon know he has a guest," he nods once and disappears into the tent. I hear their muffled conversing through the weather beaten linen of the tent.

"Jon?"

"What is it Sam?"

"You have a guest who requests to see you," Sam continues, I can practically hear him wringing his wrists.

"Who is this guest?"

"It is..." he thinks for a while "She failed to mention her name to me,"

"There are only two women here on this camp, one you bloody well know the name of," The sound of footsteps tell me Snow is probably going to pounce on the poor lad, time for my entrance.

"Thank you Sam for the directions, but I think I can continue the meeting from here," as a welcome Ghost springs up from a corner and comes to sit by my feet. Tarly gives a small bow and exits the tent.

"What do you want?" Jon says as his turns and walks away.

"Just letting you know of the job I did for you," I say as I outstretch the parchment.

"What's this?" He takes it and reads quickly "What did he do?"

"Tried to kill one of his brothers," I reply, my hand nonchalantly stroking Ghost's head.

"Very well," he scrunches up the paper and tosses it to the ground

"Not even a thanks?" I suggest, trying to push his buttons.

"We are done here." He curtly replies. I give Ghost two more pats as I turn and walk to the entrance. "Milord." I bow low and make my exit