𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙊𝙍𝙎 (Game of Thrones)

𝙫𝙞𝙞.

Vickon kept silent as he helped to drag in the bodies. Two of the men who had gone with Benjen, Jafer Flowers and Othor. Ghost had led them to the scene. No blood, only two dead men, lying still in the snow. Vickon had been the one to go back for a cart to carry them.

Benjen was nowhere in sight.

Lord Commander Mormont stepped toward the cart, looking at the two bodies. He nodded toward Vickon. "You're right. It's Othor, without a doubt."

"The other is Jafer Flowers, my lord," Vickon said. "Minus one hand that Ghost got."

"Any sign of Benjen or the rest of his party?" Lord Commander Mormont asked.

"Just these two, my lord," Jon replied. "Been dead a while, I'd say."

Mormont nodded his agreement.

"The smell," Sam said, and Vickon leaned to sniff at the corpses.

"What smell?" he asked.

"There is none," Sam said with a small shrug. "If they'd been dead for a long time, wouldn't there be rot?"

When Lord Commander Mormont had no reply, Jon interjected. "We should burn them."

"He's right," Vickon said. "Fire will do. The wildling way."

"I want Maester Aemon to examine them first," Mormont said. He looked at Sam. "You may be a coward, Tarly, but you're not stupid. Get them inside."

"Of course, my lord," said Vickon, and they got to work untying the bodies from the cart.

"Lord Commander," a voice called, and all eyes went up to see one of the stewards. "Maester Aemon awaits you in his chambers- - a raven from King's Landing."

Vickon occupied himself with the bodies as Mormont left.

He visited with Maester Aemon when he had finished, sitting beside his desk. "How do you fare, uncle?" he asked, and Aemon let out a soft laugh.

"As well as can be expected, dear boy." He turned to face him. "Now, come closer."

Vickon did as told, not moving even as the old maester raised a hand, touching his silver hair. "You looked so like my brother Aerion when you were young. You have his eyes. His hair. He was a far smaller man than you, but you had his face. And you're like him, too. Stubborn. Willful."

"Aerion went mad," Vickon said, a touch of laughter in his voice. "He drank wildfire, uncle. I'm not quite so stupid."

"He always loved the stories of dragons and warriors," Aemon said. "He was a great warrior. So he decided, 'Why can't I be a dragon as well?'"

"You're the only good to come of that line," Vickon said kindly enough. "Uncle Aegon burned Summerhall to the ground."

Aemon nodded. "Yes, you're right. You've always been a smart boy, Vhagar. Smart and cunning."

"You can't just be saying my name," Vickon said. "No one knows who I am here. No one but Ser Alliser, and that's problem enough. If someone heard- -"