When a fierce wildling meets a cunning lady, no one wants to be caught in the crossfire. Between enemies closing in from all sides, growing unrest within their own people, and their own budding romance; time was quickly running out and soon the long...
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The sound of a horn blaring cut through the courtyard, making Asena snap to attention. Her hands paused from where they'd been sharpening her sword, the woman's head turning toward the crowd of people gathering.
"Riders approaching!"
"Open the gate!"
Hearing the shouts, she stood and pushed her way through the crowd to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals herself. When she got to the front she saw three riders, Asena scanned them for any sign of a threat but did a double take when she noticed a gorgeous face attached to a brilliantly red head of hair. She watched intently as Jon walked over to the woman, almost in a daze, before embracing her. Suddenly the wildling was reminded of all the stories Jon had told her about his family, from those stories Asena could come to the conclusion that the redhead was none other than Sansa Stark.
Jon had often described Sansa as distant or rude but now, even in drab clothing and covered in snow, she seemed nothing short of... angelic.
As she continued to stare at her, Asena came to two conclusions. The first was that Sansa Stark was the most beautiful woman she had ever laid her eyes on. The second was that she would do anything in her power to keep the Stark woman safe.
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Asena leaned against the wall, her eyes closed as she tried her absolute hardest to stop herself from witnessing Tormund's ridiculous attempts to gain the attention of the woman Asena learned was named Brienne. She could feel someone keep glancing at her, causing the woman to crack an eye open to see who it was, her green eyes locking with chilling blue. Asena felt a small smirk twist her lips, watching as Sansa blushed slightly before returning to her food.
"Sorry about the food. It's not what we're known for," Edd apologized to the Stark woman, who just brushed it off.
"That's alright. There are more important things."
Asena's attention was taken away from Sansa as another Crow entered the room and handed a letter to Jon.
"A letter for you, Lord Commander."
"I'm not Lord Commander anymore," Jon responded before taking the letter from the other man's hand, the Crow leaving just as quickly as he came.
Jon glanced down at the seal of the letter, which Asena identified as House Bolton quite quickly after all the time she had spent around Sam. She noticed Sansa tense at the sight of the seal, walking over to stand behind her in what she hoped was a comforting manner.
"To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. You allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard. Come and see. Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon." Jon stopped and looked up at his sister, both of their faces going pale before he hesitantly continued reading. "His direwolf's skin is on my floor. Come and see. I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride north and slaughter every wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living. You-"
"Go on," Sansa ordered, her fists clenched together as she stared at the letter in her brother's hands.
"It's just more of the same," Jon replied, trying to put the letter away but Sansa quickly snatched it from his grasp and continued reading.
"You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North," Sansa finished, Asena placing a careful hand on the woman's shoulder.
Sansa looked at the hand, surprised at the contact, and most surprisingly of all... it worked. For some reason the wildling woman's presence had a calming effect on the Stark, making her feel safe for the first time in a long time.
"Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North," Jon repeated, his words coming out clipped in anger.
"His father's dead. Ramsay killed him. And now he has Rickon," Sansa stated certainly.
"We don't know that." Jon countered, shaking his head.
"Yes, we do."
"How many men does he have in his army?" Tormund questioned, finally turning his gaze away from an uncomfortable Brienne.
"I heard him say 5,000 once when he was talking about Stannis's attack." Sansa answered, unconsciously leaning back against the woman behind her.
"How many do you have?" Jon asked, glancing between Tormund and Asena.
"We only have 2,000 that can march and fight, the rest are children and elders. You might have more though," Asena answered, everyone looking over to her and Sansa nodded at her statement.
"She's right. You're the son of the last true Warden of the North. Northern families are loyal, they'll fight for you if you ask," the Stark woman explained while reaching forward and grabbing her brother's hand, causing the wildling woman's hand to fall off her shoulder. "A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell and save them both."
While Jon nodded, Asena looked down at Sansa proudly.
"If not him, they'll definitely fight for you," Asena said, earning a small, genuine smile from the Stark. "I know I would."
