A Chorus of Flame and Snow

Unkindness

Jeyne

She was so tired that though they approached the wall and she wanted to jump for joy, she could only manage a weak smile. Before its daunting black gate, she gazed upwards; several heavily coated men with torches were posted as sentries along its arches. Her uncle produced a horn from his coat and bellowed a long tone. It was different than pretty much every blow she had ever heard; likely to set itself apart for that very purpose. Several reverberating commands were shouted in response.

"Raise the gate! Raise the gate!"

The sentries went to work and she could hear gears turning; the system at work. A minute later, Benjen and his black brothers led them inside. Jeyne looked all around. Ghost stayed close to her ankles, alert for any danger to her human. Hard, flapping sounds drew her attention upwards; an unkindness of ravens traveled overhead. They were almost unnaturally large and she feared that they could eat a child. Old Nan once told her a tale of ravens that were maneaters and bloated from flesh.

The other side of the gate was Castle Black as she was told, one of the last manned strongholds of the Night's Watch and home to the Lord Commander. Besides the castle, which wasn't really a castle, there was an array of towers and sturdy yet decrepit buildings, some of which were long abandoned and falling apart. As Jeyne walked in the company of her namesake companion, she walked past many black brothers and servants at work in preparing for the day. Some were bringing chopped wood into the dining hall; others were bringing dead brothers in to be identified and laid to rest. Just about everybody stopped to stare at the new arrivals but especially the girls. She had never felt more self-conscious in her life. She hated to think it but while Sansa and Jeyne Poole seemed to dream of strong, brave and chivalrous men from the south; Jeyne reserved those thoughts purely for the men of the Night's Watch. She imagined strong, stocky, bearded men with axes and greatswords, with eyes that burned with fire; vigorous enemies to all wildlings and defenders of the realm. These men, if she could call them that were all frail-looking; they seemed hungry and frightened. She noticed that some of them didn't even appear lustful towards herself and her steward; they averted their gaze and scurried away like scared rats. They were afraid.

It shook her and she tried not to be too disappointed.

The wet rooftops reminded her of Winter town though this stronghold was far smaller in land area and far lower in upkeep quality. Her uncle and his men led them to what he called the Lord Commander's tower. He told her that the lord commander wished to greet her and Tyrion Lannister in person. Tyrion's royal guard traveled alongside her own, disciplined and nonverbal. She found herself increasingly nervous at the prospect of making the lord's acquaintance but she said nothing of it. The group entered the main hall of the tower where a steward guided Jeyne to a nearby fireplace.

"Please, warm yourself. The lord commander will see you shortly."

The Jeynes gave each other looks of uncertainty but Jeyne Snow looked to Ghost whom settled down in front of the fire and seem to revel in its warmth.

She turned and gave a courteous nod to the steward. "Thank you."

She turned to the fire and Jeyne Poole followed her. Though she loved the north, she found a certain comfort in the flames beyond what a common person would find in its heat. She got lost for a moment, wondering if a vision would reveal itself she looked hard enough. It occurred to her that these thoughts were likely blasphemous; they were more akin to the red god and rather than her old ones. Jeyne Poole spoke to her and distracted her from these thoughts, thankfully. "Did you see the way they looked at us?"

Jeyne didn't need her to clarify what she meant. "Yes. Are you afraid?"

"Yes. Aren't you?"