The Fox and The Wolf

9. Fear

When I was young, my father told me tales of battlefields, with knights in shining armors fighting with might and honor. I imagined smiling soldiers, singing horns and pretty ladies throwing flowers to wish them good luck. There was no smile that day, no horns and the pretty ladies gave orders instead of flowers. The tired look of the soldiers seemed even gloomier with the dark sky and mud and welts stained boots and breastplates.

As I walked towards the makeshift stables, I felt my hands shaking, my guts twisted like when I ran in the forest, flying from the Boltons, not so long ago. From somewhere close, I heard someone give their breakfast back to the earth, and the sound and smell knotted my stomach even more. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone, as my fear was probably displayed in full colors on my face. Thankfully, the stables weren't far from my tent. The strong smell of horses and hay instantly helped me put my mind on other things. A groom offered me to prepare my horse, but I shocked my head.

One thing at a time, I kept repeating myself. So I focused on finding my mare and my dogs. One thing at a time. I brushed the horse's brown coat with care, untangling each knot I found. One thing at a time. I petted Cobweb while attaching him to a wooden post. One thing at a time. The saddle seemed heavier than before, but I managed to put it on place and buckle it on my own. One... I jumped when Jon took the reins I just settled. The dogs had not make a sound when he arrived, but all of them were wagging their tails.

"I didn't notice you..."

He sighed, his shoulders bent to the lowest point I ever saw them. "Keep your focus. You need to notice everything out there."

I nodded and quickly turned towards the saddle where I placed my dagger. He took it back and gave it to me again.

"Always keep a dagger with you, in case you lose your horse... or dogs."

"I know," I whispered, brows furrowed. "I know all of this..."

Yet I couldn't do it properly. My shaking hands struggled to put the dagger in my boot and Jon gently took my wrists when I finally managed to keep it on place.

"Nobody will blame you if you stay..."

I looked at Maurl at my feet, then at the saddle, at anything to advert his gaze. I did my best not to think about how I couldn't fight, after our small talk, the last night. I had kept waking up, heart racing and tears on my cheeks, from one nightmare to another. Now, an hour before our departure, I couldn't think straight and kept doing small mistakes that could easily cost me my life, out there. They were right, Elayne and him, and I was stupid to think otherwise. I couldn't back down now, however. How could I be able to face him if I did.

"I said I would come..." I finally said, focusing on the mare.

Jon brought a hand to my cheek and forced me to look at him. "Only fools don't change their mind."

"But... You..."

Words stumbled on my mouth and before I knew it, I was clinging to his sleeve. He pulled me closer, allowing my face to rest on the crook of his neck.

"I'll feel better if you stay here, with Sansa and Lyanna."

"So I'm either a fool or a coward..."

"No. You're Lady Stormfeld of Hearthgrove. You gave us the Glovers. You helped us with the strategy. And you'll protect Ned Stark's daughter. Neither of this seems foolish or cowardly to me."

I couldn't help but smile a little. My arms found their way to his neck, and I pulled him even closer. I may not go to the battlefield today, but fear had not let me alone. How could it when he would risk his life... I stopped at the thought. I stepped back a little to have a good look at him, but lost myself in these dark eyes of his. His brooded a lot, brows always furrowed, but he had this reassuring area around him, where everything seemed possible. Yet today, the calming effect he had on me was tainted with shame and apprehension.

"Who will watch your back, then?"

Behind Jon, Tormund had a small laugh. I quickly backed off, putting a proper distance between the commander and me. I had no idea of how long he was here but I preferred not knowing.

"Don't you worry, girl," he said with his unmistakable rough voice. "I won't let him die today. I still owe him my life."

"Please bring him back in one piece," I asked the red-haired giant with a small smile.

"Aye" was his response, and he quickly disappeared with a giant axe across his shoulders.

With the Wildling gone, silence fell between us. I knew he would be gone too quickly but I stubbornly dismissed the thought, afraid to dwell on the implications of his departure, and of my stay. I turned away, cheeks bright red. I didn't deserve his attention.

"You should go. Your men will wait their commander."

He didn't budge, and I felt his hesitation before I even looked at him. When I finally faced him, I didn't dare lift my eyes to met his so I focused on lower face. His lips were pressed against one another and for a moment, I hoped he came to me, and pressed these lips against mine, despite my guilt, despite everything. But he didn't. He straightened his doublet and cleared his throat.

"Lady Stormfeld, you and your men will be in charge of protecting the camp, with Lady Mormont's forces."

His voice was loud enough for people around to ear, but we got only some glances before they all gone back to their businesses. I bowed my head and took a deep breath to keep me from running to him, urging him to be careful. Making sure no one was looking, I still grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"Come back to me," I whispered.

He lifted my hand to his face and pressed his lips on top of it