BLACK WOLF - GoT [s1 - s4]

011 - prettier than a mole town whore

    "You fancy her?" Grenn commented. "The Stark bastard?"

    Erik's mind flooded with panic. The woman was half she-wolf.

    "No...no. Why'd you say that?"

    Grenn exhaled, letting out a small laugh. "You'd have to get in line, Iversen. You aren't the first one drooling over her."

The woman's eyes connected with Erik's dark blue ones. She gave a respectful nod, earning one in return.

"She's mighty beautiful. No comparison to the whores in Mole Town."

    "Anyone could beat the looks of the girls in Mole Town."

    The male duo shared a laugh.

——

Erik was unable to sleep. The snores of his bunk mates were rattling the insides of his brain, chipping away at his sanity. The sun was rising when Erik gained his footing and stepped outside. His face tingled at the sudden chill sweeping his features, accepting it with open arms.
For once Erik felt at peace, he was alone. He was not being berated or assaulted for simply existing.
He explored the places he never had time to look, growing bored quickly. There were no activities other than training and working at The Wall. Erik was entrapped in his thoughts that he did not notice the dagger whizzing past.
Erik froze in place, a small cut stinging the bridge of his nose.

"What in gods name is wrong with you?!"

Erik's vision returned to see the Stark woman pulling the blade from its target. He stuttered in an effort to form any sentence. The Stark woman slammed the dagger onto the table.

"Are you able to talk?" She spat, glaring into his eyes.

Erik was able to choke out one word, "Yes."

She did not seem pleased with the response, muttering curses under her breath as she returned to the small weapons table. Erik turned his head to the target, perfectly placed puncture wounds laid open in the bullseye. Erik would not admit it, not immediately, but he grew slightly frightened by her.

"Are you here to train?" She interrogated. The woman occasionally bent back to grab another weapon before rapidly recovering, scared of turning her back to someone.

"No. Couldn't sleep to be honest." Erik said sheepishly. "I saw you training yesterday. Impressive."

She made a noise, a stern 'mhm'.

Erik planned his next phrase carefully. The woman chose another dagger with a different handle. He moved to the side as she began throwing the dagger, making a thwack sound.

"Do you have a name?" He asked politely.

Thwack

"Aloy." She replied. "Yours?"

The tall boy sat on top of a barrel, his legs temporarily relieved of the reoccurring pain. "Erik."

Thwack

"And where are you from, Erik?" She hissed the name as if she swallowed a pungent lemon seed.

"The Eyrie...or a little town outside of the Eyrie." He specified. He would not ask where Aloy lived, knowing the answer already. "What's your favourite colour?"

Aloy glanced at the boy, her eyes noticing his legs for a moment. "What type of question is that?"

Erik thought for a second. "A good one."

Aloy snickered causing Erik to smile with pride. He was able to receive something else rather than a scowl.

Thwack

"It's blue. An ocean sort of blue." She answered honestly. "What's with your legs?"

Erik grew a sense of humiliation. Always his legs, everyone was so enthralled with his damn legs.

"Born with it." He looked down at his scuffled boots.

    Thwack

    Aloy's lips formed a tight line. She thought of her brother Bran, the feeble boy laying in bed, never able to use his legs again. She changed the topic for Erik's sake.

"Weapon of choice?"

    "Sword. Like everyone else." Erik concluded.

    The morning horn sliced through the crisp air, signifying the impending arrival of lawless men. Aloy huffed, adjusting her hair to a more tighter ponytail. She neatly placed the dagger back onto the table.
    Gravel was heard underneath boots. Endless chatter and curses echoed around. Erik turned to bid a goodbye but Aloy disappeared into thin air.
     Erik let out a heavy sigh, miffed he was unable to say a proper goodbye. Aloy treated him like a normal person, not even his mother did that.
     A handful of men walked in, chuckling about a joke that one of them said. They caught eye of Erik who was leaving.

    "What're you doing here, cripple?" One of them chortled to the amusement of the others.

    Erik looked over his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm on my way out."

   He pushed himself outside, heading in towards the stables. Erik usually would not say anything, stay silent, and ignore the mean comments but something changed in his heart that cold morning. A sense of inspiration and confidence.

——

word count - 1,208

ouch, my writers block killed this chapter. i suck at writing men, women r way better. don't forget to check out my tiktok page. love you all <3

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