Arrows Through a Bastard

Chapter Three

Jon must have been awakened by the return of Ygritte with Hal, because when the wildling rushed over to him, she heard him mutter something about needing more sleep.

"Let's have a look at you, lad," Hal said, pulling things from his bag. Jon looked at him, confusion written all over his face.

"I know you..." he whispered, his voice faint and hoarse. "You were at Winterfell for a time when I was a boy."

The old man justed hummed to himself as he looked Jon over, saying absent mindedly, "was I?"

Ygritte told Jon to shut up and let the man do his work; he gave her a withering look. She returned the favour, until Jon gave up and looked away, a slight smile on his face. Even when one of them was about to die of infection, she would still win her battle of wills with him.

Hal tried to send Ygritte out of the cave, without realising that you'd be hard pressed to find a wildling more stubborn than her. She stayed, watching Jon's face as Hal poked his wounds, pored rank smelling liquids in them and rubbing herbs in them.

As Ygritte watched, Jon opened is squeezed eyes and looked at her. While Hal moved around them they had an unspoken conversation, saying everything they couldn't express with words. They stared at each other for uncounted minutes. Jon's betrayal flashed in Ygritte's eyes, the wound still raw. His eyes softened, apologising. Ygritte's anger melted away; she could see that Jon truly was sorry for what he'd done. Ygritte knew that Jon was faithful over all else. He was like a hound. He would always run back to his masters. But that could be seen two ways. He was loyal to his people, brave and kind, as well as being a scared boy. He didn't want to father bastards because of what that had done to him. He thought everything through to the point that he always seemed sad. Even his smile had a dark, destroyed childhood behind it. Ygritte felt as if there was naught she could do to change that, except be the crutch he didn't think he needed.

"If you two are done staring into each other's souls," said Hal, clearing his throat. "I've patched you up, and you'll be as shiny as a new gold dragon in the morning." The golden dragon part was lost on Ygritte, but Jon seemed well pleased.

"Thank you, Hal. You have done me a great kindness coming here and fixing him for me." Ygritte hadn't been brought up with people who said please and thank you much, preferring to take what they wanted instead, so her gratitude was stunted. Hal got the message though, and nodded.

Hal left that evening, insisting that he was hermit and hermits didn't stay in one place for long, else they weren't a hermit. By evenfall, Jon could sit, talk and move about. His fever was gone and his wounds had closed. Whatever Hal had done it was no mere maester's work, that was a certainty.

Jon managed to get his arse out the cave door, and onto the hill, so they could watch the sun set. The golds and reds, pinks and blues, yellows and pale greens lit up the sky, streaking the clouds with colour, brightening the dull moors. Jon lay on his back, and Ygritte thought he must be asleep becasue he looked so peaceful. He only ever looked calm when asleep, but now, his eyes were closed and he was just glad to be alive, Ygritte thought from the way he sighed.

Ygritte did a very feminine thing then, something that she would have spat on before she met Jon Snow; she lay her head on his chest, not to prove a point, or after they had lain together but simply because she was glad. Glad to be alive, glad to be sharing her life with Jon Snow, glad to be alone with him.

Once the sun had set, and the aurora of colours had dissipated, they walked down the hill, hand in hand. For the first time Ygritte understood why people held hands. It seemed stupid, and Ygritte had never seen the point; it just slowed you down, and made it hard to do things. But now, she could feel Jon's pulse, the warmth of his hand, the connection between the two of the and didn't want to let go.