Arrows Through a Bastard

Chapter Four

Saying goodbye was always going to be hard, Ygritte had prepared herself for that, but she didn't expect it to be as gut wrenching as what she was feeling as Jon climbed onto his horse.

Their plan was immaculate, promising to result in the newly weds being together, no matter the cost. But she would have to kill his friends to get there, and him her childhood companions. He had to allow the windings through the Wall, perfectly timed so that they would have as few casualties as possible. Both the wilding and the crow answered to people above them, making their plan all the more hard. But it would work. It had to work. And that meant saying goodbye.

Jon Snow fixed the saddle packs onto his horse, its coat as dark and unruly as the crow's. Black surrounded Ygritte. Jon, with dark hair and brooding eyes, the horse, like some servant of death and Jon Snow's ways; him being a crow, taking the black and vowing never to touch girls. She felt like the only bright thing for miles. The moors around their cave were bleak and dreary, the skins they wore were dark, to keep as warm as possible. The only bright thing in Ygritte's life was her own hair, the vibrant fire kissed mane that flowed about her head. And soon the only bright thing she could give Jon Snow, herself, would be gone. Ygritte didn't know how Jon would manage without something to keep him from straying into the darkness. All she could do was urge the wildings to hasten the attack on Castle Black.

Jon Snow turned back to her, his face crumpling at the sight of the tears Ygritte was frantically trying to blink back. He left the side of horse, to be with his wife. Ygritte still wasn't used to that. She was frequently called a spearwife, but now that the barb had gone out of her, and she was a wife. Not that her duties as a wife were unenjoyable... It had been a week since Hal had left them, off to wherever hermits go. Jon Snow was a proper lover, she had said that many times, but he was an even better husband. The guilt he had felt had clearly restricted him more than she knew, becasue once they sealed their lives together, it became clear that he had been holding back. Ygritte was not complaining.

But not anymore. He was leaving her alone to go back to the Free Folk. And she was leaving him alone to face being accused a traitor.

"Ygritte." Jon stroked some hair behind her hair. "I will see you again. You'll see windmills and laugh at them once you've seen Castle Black, and I'll take you to Winterfell."

"I'd like that," she replied, emotion clogging up her voice. This was a different sort of pain. The betrayal had been a knife in the dark; sudden, unexpected and brutal. This was a feeling a branch breaking under her feet, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop the fall and the pain that would come after. Ygritte did not know how to express that in words; wildings only voiced what needed to be said, and that didn't included feelings. So she kissed him instead.

The sensuality of Jon's lips on her blocked all perception of the things around her. The dawn faded, its colours dulling as she closed her blue eyes. The wind stopped whistling in her head, and her accelerated heartbeat took over. The obnoxious feeling of loneliness disappeared in an instant as her husband held her in a moment that she hoped would never end. But all good things must come to an end eventually.

"You take care of yourself, love," Ned Stark's bastard whispered to his love, millimeters away from her.

"You too." Ygritte had changed. She no longer responded in kind, with a snarky comment about not needing anyone to look after her. But now she knew that to be truly happy, and truly alive, you needed someone watching your back becasue to trust no one is a very dangerous state of mind to be in. A state of mind that Jon was running headlong into.

As if he couldn't bear to look back at her for fear that he wouldn't be able to leave, he climbed on his horse and Jon Snow kicked his horse into motion.

"Don't you go sleeping with other girls while I'm gone!" The wildling shouted at him. "If you do, I'll cut your balls off and shove them down your throat." Yes, she thought. A sufficiently violent threat. Jon smiled and rode away on that towering black horse of his. Back to the Wall. Back to his brothers. Back to his vows.

Ygritte's tears were short lived. She knew that she would see him again. She knew that. She was kissed by fire. Her luck would bring him back to her. That she knew.

The cave was almost empty. Ygritte's pack sat on the floor, waiting to be picked up. The wildling sighed a deep sigh in the cold, dry air of the cave. She gave the wall a pat. The dark hole in the side of the moors held too many memories: Jon's fevered body, filling the cave with an unnatural heat as he hurtled towards death. Jon's fevered body, filling the cave and his lover with an unnatural heat as they consummated their marriage. The good and the bad, memories filled this place, so when Jon Snow's wife picked up her pack and slung it over her shoulder and stepped into the land south of the Wall to suck in a breath of the fresh wind, she felt as though she was leaving something behind. Of course she was. She was going back to Tormund and Orell- no... Orell was dead.

The road was hard, but Jon really hadn't managed to go very far in one night, and the wildlings were headed in the right direction anyway, but Ygritte ended up behind them, running over her story in her head so many times it almost became real.

"Tormund!" She yelled when she was close enough to be heard. The bearded man spun on his heels towards her, his eyes filled with anger, relief... and more anger.

"Tormund I know! I'm sorry!" The man kept marching towards her, his eyes ablaze like the torch he held in his hand, his lace getting faster as she approached.

"How long were you gone? Tell me girl! HOW LONG!" He was right up in Ygritte's face now, his nails digging painfully into her arm.

"You get your hands off me right now," she whispered, as if all the soft heartedness she had acquired disappeared with Jon. Slowly, as the point of one of her arrows dug into Tormund's stomach, his eyes dimmed and he let go of her. Leaning in close to him she whispered with her voice full of warning. "Seven days. In that time, I tracked down Jon Snow, shot him with three arrows, tended to his wounds, got married and sent him on his way. If you tell any of the others, I'll kill you myself. As far as they know, I was taken in for questioning by a group of crows heading north and barley escaped with my life. If that is all, I believe we still have a Wall to attack." Tormund had to know what had happened. He raised her, was like a father to her. She would not betray him. That was the one thing she could not do.

Tormund sighed. He patted her on the back, like he always had and in a dull, resigned voice he said."Congratulations. But why did you get married if he then had to leave you."

Ygritte laughed; it was full of pain and truth and sorrow and hysteria, but it was a laugh none the less. She made it sound like the old Ygritte. "He wouldn't let me fuck him otherwise. Didn't want anymore Snows running around."

"Welcome back, Ygritte," Tormund said through his laughter as they trudged back to the others and onward to the Wall.

My my my, what a long time it has been. Who's ready for my excuses on the late chapter?

- assessment week pranked me nicely.

- my iPad shut down on me. Well the keyboard did anyway.

-I'm lazy.

-and of course I've actually, finally been watching game of thrones. Already on season 3. Who's proud of me?

So yeah. Hope you like this chapter. But of a filler, really but good enough. I love you alllllllllll. You know that, I don't need to say it, but I do.

Hey also. I've got an instagram account now, if you want to be reminded when I'm publishing. It's the holidays now, so hopefully I'll be onto a more regular updating schedule soon. It's called OpheliatheEmerald.

I love you all very very much,

Ophelia.