Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic - Chapter 274 - Prologue.

[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.] --------------------------------------- Third Person POV Arctic, 298 AC. ---------------------------------------

[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 298 AC.

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“AHHHH!!!”
A scream from his companion echoed through the place, while the man tried to look around in all directions, trying to identify where it was coming from. Birds flapped their wings at the human scream of the dying man.

The patrolman's eyes trembled as he grabbed his sword, his hands shaking the entire time he held it.

They shouldn't be patrolling like this anymore until the ship of the patrolmen who were trapped in Artica returned. Even so, something was wrong—strange movements—and Jeor Mormont had sent men to investigate the situation, a small group in search of what was happening, having seen signs of possible wildlings nearby.

But what they found were multiple bodies scattered across the ground, arranged in some sort of strange ritual, while people with blue eyes began to emerge from the snow, dragging them and using daggers and even bites to attack the group.

Will was among them, and he watched in horror as his group was attacked and massacred. Overcome with fear, he immediately ran in any direction within that forest.

He ran faster than his legs could allow as he tried to flee from there as far as possible, while he could hear bestial sounds and men screaming in pain.

“Please... Please...” he murmured, trembling with fear as he continued until his legs finally grew tired, forcing him to stop and rest.

His gaze fell in the direction from which he had come, searching for any creature he had seen killing his companions appearing from there, while the forest was in complete silence.

“I have to get out of here...” he murmured, wishing his body would recover quickly enough before he was killed.

“AHHHH!!!”
Then the scream came from a distance, with all the birds flying from the trees, disorienting him.

“I have to get out of here...” he murmured in despair, taking a few more steps back as he was about to run, and when he did, he bumped into something as he looked back.

“Ah!”
His first reaction was to scream as he lost his footing, falling with his body trembling in fear.

“Calm down, Will!”
The person he had bumped into placed a hand on his chest, making Will see that it was Ser Waymar Royce, who was the leader of his group on this patrol.

“Waymar... we have to get out of here!” Will pleaded.

“Yes... what were those things...” he murmured, not knowing either, as he had managed to escape a few by cutting them down with his sword, but his companions weren't so lucky.

“Let's go. Can you run? We won't be able to return to Castle Black; it's better we go around and warn the others about what happened...” Waymar suggested.

“Yes...”
Will only murmured that as his heart pounded frantically from the situation.

“Let's go then!”
They began to run while Waymar couldn’t see anything in the forest, and everything seemed to be getting darker.

They ran as the shallow snow of the place bounced under their feet, crushed as both tried to get out of there and reach the other side of the Wall. Everything seemed normal, while Will kept looking back, searching for anything—but there was only darkness.

The wind hit his face as their breathing grew increasingly irregular, forcing them to inhale oxygen, trying to pump their bodies to escape.

They seemed about to get away as nothing was following them—but then something flew toward them, catching them by surprise as it struck a tree beside them without warning, piercing through it and hitting Ser Waymar Royce's side.

He screamed in pain and fell to the ground, making Will stop and run toward him.

“Ah...” Waymar murmured in pain, feeling the blood running down his waist with a burning sensation as the wound chilled from the blade’s ice.

“Ser Waymar...” Will tried to lift him, when the sound of a horse came from the forest, making Will look toward the spot immediately.

His eyes trembled as someone on horseback began to approach them, and more figures started to appear from other directions.

Even Waymar looked alarmed at the sight of four creatures mounted on horses, with missing body parts and exposed bones, standing there, staring at them with blue eyes.

“White Walkers!!” Will trembled as he said it, remembering the old stories used to scare children, or as the Articans had said when their king had gone near the Wall.

Will trembled as he looked at those monstrous-looking creatures, with their skin resembling shards of ice, and their glowing eyes bringing a dreadful feeling just by looking at them, as if they were death itself.

Even Waymar swallowed hard. Will was torn between running and leaving his companion behind, with those creatures staring at them like cornered animals.

“Listen, Will!” Waymar mustered courage as he grabbed his arm and tried to stand up, looking at the creatures despite his fear.

“Get out of here! I’ll try to hold them off—you must warn the patrol!” he exclaimed, grabbing his sword, remembering how they had laughed at the Articans who warned they’d be at war with monsters like those, and now, they were there—so close to the Wall.

“...” Will was speechless, while Waymar stared at him in that moment.

“Go! Get out of here, now!” Waymar shouted as Will nodded and began to run.

Waymar stood there, stared at by the creatures as one of them decided to dismount, holding an ice sword and calmly approaching the human, who kept his own sword raised, though it trembled with the fear he felt.

Seeing the creature approaching, he screamed and charged with all his strength at the monster—but his sword shattered as the creature struck with its ice blade.

He saw it all as his sword splintered like glass, just before the creature drove the sword into his body, killing him the next moment.

The White Walkers merely watched his body collapse to the ground, while the eyes of the four gleamed in the direction the last man had fled.

Will was running with all his strength, constantly looking back. It had already been ten minutes of nonstop running, his body full of adrenaline, searching for any enemy following him, praying to get out of there as fast as possible.

Then it came—a spear of ice struck the tree beside him, almost hitting him, startling him.

He only ran faster, hearing the sound of hooves galloping through the snow behind him, in that endless forest full of horrors.

Another spear tried to hit him as he ran, and once again, he managed to escape without being hurt.

The White Walker continued riding in the direction Will had fled, until he came across a four-meter-high rocky ledge, stopping at once.

He checked the footprints, which ended right there, and looked upward, wondering how the human had climbed it so quickly.

Another White Walker approached him, also looking at the ledge and finding no sign of the human.

They looked at each other for a moment and decided to continue, beginning to move to reach the higher ground in search of the human—unaware of the hole among the rocks beneath the horse’s hooves. Even though Will’s footprints led there, they didn’t notice the camouflaged gap under the stone.

Will was there, holding a hand over his mouth to prevent his heavy breathing from alerting his enemies, making no sound until they were gone.

He stayed there for the next few hours, waiting for the enemy to leave. As night fell, he remained hidden, only departing at dawn—exhausted and full of fear at the thought of encountering those monsters again. And so, he headed for the other side of the Wall.

Winterfell was returning to normal after the attack by the Faceless Man. Masons and carpenters were working on rebuilding and modifying areas of Winterfell.

Lord Stark stood by the window while the sky was still slightly dark, with the first rays of sunlight coming through. He could already see men working with torches in their hands, and soon he would have to begin his day at the castle.

He noticed movement behind him and turned to see a woman getting out of bed and dressing quickly.
“Lord Stark... I shouldn’t...” she murmured, as Lord Stark approached her.

“Wait... You shouldn’t blame yourself for this, Cassandra...” He approached her quickly, touching her shoulder with a conflicted look in his eyes, while she looked at him filled with shame and even guilt.

“It was my fault too...” he murmured to the woman.

Cassandra was the castellan of Winterfell, and they had ended up in the solar, talking about the changes to the castle now that everything had returned to normal. But Lord Stark had wanted to celebrate that things were going well again—his son was out of danger, with Jon making it clear he would launch an attack on the House of Black and White if they sent another Faceless assassin. At the same time, he had managed to reconcile with his nephew after everything.

He wanted to celebrate those things. Even though Cassandra didn’t know it, she was the woman who had been helping him and taking care of the castle, sharing the burden Arya was carrying since her mother had been banished to Riverrun.

He had invited her for a drink, and it seemed like something normal, but they ended up overdoing it. And when they realized it, they were in Lord Stark’s bed, naked—leaving him deeply disappointed with himself. He could understand her feelings, and that’s why he didn’t want her to blame herself.

“What happened here... let’s just say it was an accident, so don’t blame yourself... I shouldn’t have offered drinks in the first place,” Lord Stark murmured.

“I... I’m sorry. What will they think? I work here,” she said, lost, looking at Lord Stark, nearly in despair.

“Wait a moment,” Lord Stark said as he dressed more properly and went to the door, opening it to see Jory and another guard looking at him.

“Lord Stark,” Jory greeted him with a neutral tone and expression.

“Tell me, who saw Cassandra and me entering the room last night?” he asked with a serious tone.

“That... was my shift and his. Only the two of us saw it—leaving your solar and walking through the corridor while kissing Lady Cassandra,” Jory replied, seemingly trying not to laugh.

“No details!” Lord Stark couldn’t help but exclaim at that embarrassing comment. “Listen, don’t tell anyone about this, understand? Is there anyone in the corridor?” he murmured, looking quite nervous.

“No one yet,” Jory said.

“Then I want you to escort Lady Cassandra to her room and say nothing about this,” he said, and Jory nodded.

Lord Stark returned to the woman, who had finished putting on her dress and fixing her hair, still looking quite embarrassed.

“Listen, Cassandra. This was unexpected... Let’s talk about it later, all right?” he said, and she nodded, though she didn’t seem to like his comment. She left with her head lowered, and the guard beside Jory followed her, while Lord Stark returned to his room with a sigh.

“What have I done...” He didn’t know what to say. That’s why he hated drinking—remembering how embarrassed he’d been when trying to court Ashara Dayne.
That thought brought a certain bitterness too, recalling how his brother had slept with her afterward. At the same time, he didn’t want to think poorly of his brother, now dead along with their father by Aerys’s hand, and he soon pushed those thoughts aside.

He simply got ready and began the day, heading to the main hall, waiting for his family at the high table while he was the first to arrive, with the servants still organizing the tables.

He sat at the high table, lost in thought, while asking Jory to get something to eat, and a servant poured him a drink. Soon, his children arrived and began filling the table—Arya was first, accompanied by her royal guards, her steps smooth yet always prepared for anything. Brandon came shortly after, almost running with excitement. Sansa arrived in silence; she hadn’t spoken much since the incident with the Faceless assassin. Robb came next with a firm look, striving to embody the heir to his father.

Lastly, Cassandra appeared, carrying Rickon in her arms, and Lord Stark looked at her—but she didn’t look back, keeping a gentle gaze only for little Rickon, but neutral toward everything else.

She placed him at the table and began to leave.

“Aren’t you going to eat with us?” Brandon shouted to her, which was normal, as she usually took care of Rickon.

“I’m not hungry, Lord Brandon. I’m feeling a bit unwell today,” she replied with a friendly smile to Brandon, while Arya studied her as she exited the hall. Lord Stark simply watched her, lost in his thoughts.

“Why did she leave?” Rickon asked with a tearful tone, watching Cassandra walk away—used to her helping during meals, her departure left him a little sad.

“I’ll take care of him,” Arya said, rising from her chair and going to help her younger brother eat. He nodded at her quickly, soon laughing and no longer feeling Cassandra’s absence.

The day began as Lord Stark resumed his work in the solar, reading letters.

“Lord Umber is inviting us to his birthday...” Arya said, picking up a letter.

“This one says Lord Glover’s youngest daughter is getting married too...” Ned murmured, picking up another paper.

“The one who's been in love with Jon ever since he saved her as a child. I’d like to see that,” Arya laughed upon hearing that.

“Seems so... two vassals with rather important celebrations... what should I do...” Lord Stark commented.

“I think a wedding is more important than a birthday, Father... I believe we should go to Deepwood Motte. I’m sure Lord Umber can have his birthday without the Starks and survive it. Or better yet, he should go too—he can enjoy the banquet and announce his nameday there,” Arya gave her opinion.

“Then I’ll have to let Lord Glover know they can expect our presence...” Lord Stark said.

“Speaking of which, we need to find a bride for Robb, Father,” she said, while her father looked at her, thoughtful.

“He’s already of age, as you’ve reminded me. It has to be someone from the North, to further strengthen his position,” he commented.

“Yes... and I believe one of Wyman Manderly’s granddaughters could be a good match for Robb. House Manderly is wealthy and has been loyal to the Starks ever since they came to the North,” Arya commented.

“We can reach out to Lord Manderly to discuss it. He’s asked many times before, but I always said Robb was too young. Now might be the right opportunity,” he said.
Arya nodded as a knock came at the door.

“Lord Stark, Lady Cassandra is here to deliver some documents,” Jory said with the door half open.

“Please, ask her to come in,” Lord Stark requested as the woman entered with a stack of papers and placed them on the table—more forcefully than usual—something Lord Stark noticed, but said nothing about.

“These are some construction documents. You need to check if everything’s correct and sign them later. I’m leaving,” she said flatly, not looking at him.

“Alright... I’ll look at them later,” Lord Stark murmured, while Arya was already fed up with this behavior since the start of the morning.

“Can you two stop acting like a couple of horny teenagers after making out drunkenly in the hallway and sleeping together?” she said in a tone full of authority.

That made both of them choke on their breath.

“You...” Ned looked at Arya, stunned.

“I’ve been watching over Winterfell every night in case another assassin shows up. I saw you two kissing drunkenly in the corridor, but I didn’t see anything else after you entered the room—if that’s what you’re asking, Father,” Arya said seriously.

“I don’t care what kind of relationship you two have, but can you stop acting like this? Even you, Cassandra—if you’re angry, ashamed, or resentful toward my father, deal with it with him. But don’t neglect your duties, like caring for Rickon. He still needs you, and you refused to feed him.” Arya spoke directly to the woman—she had personally decided to hire her as castellan after interviewing her, but she wouldn’t hesitate to scold her if she neglected her responsibilities.

The woman lowered her head immediately.

“I’m sorry for that, Princess Arya,” she said.

“Don’t be—just don’t leave Rickon alone again and keep doing your usual work. Settle things with my father later,” Arya replied, still stern.

“Yes... if you’ll excuse me,” she said, leaving the room, leaving only Ned and Arya again.

“You didn’t have to be so harsh,” Ned commented.

“She’s still responsible for my youngest brother. And you should settle things with her as soon as possible—I don’t want to be caught in the middle of a drama between two people regretting sleeping together drunk,” she muttered.

“Sorry about that,” Ned had to apologize. “You know, that shouldn’t have happened—I dishonored her,” he murmured.

“She already has two children, Father. If you want to sleep with her, take her to bed and marry her. It’s not that big of a deal... You have three heirs to Winterfell if you’re worried about a child with her,” Arya said, while Ned looked a bit surprised by Arya’s bluntness.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re free from Catelyn now, aren’t you?” she shrugged.

“Not with the matter of the Faith of the Seven... we’re still married,” Ned said.

“Fuck the Seven and their High Septon,” she replied, while Ned gave her a disapproving look.

He was about to respond, but at that moment, another knock came at the door, and Maester Luwin entered after Lord Stark allowed it.

He handed over a letter, and Ned noticed the seal of a minor noble from his lands—since beyond the great lords, there were also lesser ones within the territories.

He read it, narrowing his eyes.

“Something wrong, Father?” Arya asked.

“A deserter from the Night’s Watch was caught...” he said as he stood and looked at the sun’s position—mid-morning.

“I’ll have to go judge him,” he announced.

“I’m coming with you,” Arya immediately stood up, and though Lord Stark was about to refuse, he nodded in the end, knowing it was Arya.

“You should call Bran and Robb too. Can you do that?” Lord Stark asked, and Arya nodded, leaving the solar with her guards to summon her brothers, while Lord Stark called for a group of guards and horses to be prepared for them to leave Winterfell, hoping to return before nightfall.