A FEELING OF PANIC WASHED OVER HIM.
Jon Snow had only felt this whenever he was in battle, fighting for his life and for others. He could remember Robb saying that he always looked frightened whenever they practiced their swords. His dark brown eyes were always dilated and frantically scanning the area, even when he wasn't in danger.
It wasn't something Jon had always done. Panicking that is. As a child he was often purposely ignored by his family and all of the other kids in Winterfell. Robb had no choice but to pretend to not know him whenever his mother was around. She made it clear that Jon was less than the Starks, a bastard born till the end of his days. That same notion rolled over the castle grounds, and a few highborn kids took it upon themselves to "remind" him of his worth— as if Lady Stark would let him forget. They'd wait until he was alone, cornered and afraid, then they would pounce like wolves.
Marina rolled her tired shoulders, cracking her neck as she walked down the corridor. The day had been long and grueling. Lady Catelyn had been nothing but cruel with her chores for the sorceress, leaving her with no time for the Stark children or a meal. She had just put Arya to bed, who was a bit fussy after a long day without a nap.
The sorceress's fingers had just wrapped around the handle of the door before she heard quiet sniffling. Within seconds, she pushed into her room, closing the door behind herself and looking around. The fire crackled, filling the small space with a woodsy smell, an almost nostalgic smell that relaxed her. The sharp wind blew outside, rattling the wooden doors that closed kept the cold from covering the room in its cold hands. Her eyes settled on her bed, specifically the small bundle nestled under her blankets.
The mop of curly brown hair was a dead give away. "Jon?"
The young boy looked over the thick quilt with a swollen black eye and a busted lip. His nose is crooked and split open with a trail of dried blood. His face is puffy from crying, but he looks relieved.
"Jon, who did this?" Marina asks, coming to stand next to the bed and inspect his face.
"It doesn't matter" Jon says, moving his head away from her grasp. He knows if he gives a name then she'd take it upon herself to "investigate."
"It does matter! It's not okay for them to do this to you."
"Please, just leave it alone. Please? It's not worth it."
Marina's face softened as she moved to sit beside him. He continued to sniffle, wincing whenever he did so thanks to his broken nose. He'd never understand.
"What happened? Last time I saw you you were with Robb."
"We were practicing with our swords when Lady Stark called Robb back. I didn't have a chance to turn around before they..."
Marina couldn't understand why the kids treated him this way. She couldn't understand how someone could treat another human being the way they do. Jon already knows who he is, he's been told his "worth" since he was born. Still, they take it upon themselves do it anyway without any regard.
The sorceress tilted the boys head backwards to stem the bleeding from his nose. This hadn't been the first time he's fought, and it wouldn't be the last, but she couldn't sit there any longer and allow it.
"Jon" Marina says softly, which he does. "They won't stop. Not as long as you continue breathing. Trust me, I know."
Her green eyes swirled into a dark red as she raised her hand to his face. Jon felt the red wisps softly caress his face. A warm familiar feeling washed over him as he closed his eyes and waited.
"You can't tell Lord Stark, you can't tell Lady Stark and you can't tell your siblings. You feel alone, I know you do, but you always have me"
Jon felt the last of his skin mending itself, a painless process that he had unfortunately been through numerous times. When the warmth of her magic left his face, he opened his dark brown eyes to look into her gentle green ones.
"Lady Stark won't allow it. She looks to isolate me."
"She can try" Marina reached behind her neck, brushing her long brown hair over and unclasping the black rope. A small red stone is surrounded by a thin round metal, no bigger than a merchant coin in the palm of her hand.
She let it dangle between their faces, twirling it between her fingertips. "What are you doing?"
"Your name day, and this is your gift." She replies, using her free hand to grab his smaller calloused one. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes"
A small smile came to her face. His right hand rest in the palm of her left as she placed the pendant down in his grasp. Her magic appeared again making his hand erupt in tingles.
"It's not a great sword or fine silk from Westeros, but it's all that I have." Jon seemed to clutch the pendant a little tighter. "I'd like to think my mother gave it to me. Something to pass down like she might have done for me."
Jon would sit with her some nights when he couldn't sleep. He asked her to tell him stories, and would try to get her to tell him about her childhood, but she never could. She couldn't remember anything, so she'd make up things, fantasizing about what her life might have been like.
The tingling in his hand stopped, bringing him out of his thoughts. He looked down and his eyes immediately found the small gem pulsing, as if it were a heart pumping blood.
"The hilt of Robb's sword has my magic in the eyes of his direwolf, and Sansa has it in the tens of her house brooch. I'm going to have something made for Arya, Rickon and Bran, but this necklace came from my past."
"I can't take this, Mina. You know it's forbidden."
"Lady Stark does not control me. Yes, I am charged with watching over you all, but that is by the will of your father. I owe him my life and if that means cleaning and cooking in the kitchens then so be it, but she will not stop me from protecting you."
The finality in her voice brought tears to the rim of his eyes. She took her time to place the pendant around his neck. It sits on his chest nicely. He could practically feel it pulsing against his skin, bringing warmth with each thump.
"As long as you have it on, I'll always be able to feel you. Promise me you'll never take it off."
"What about the other kids? Lady Stark? They'll take it once they see it, I have to take it off when I leave my room."
"Let them try." She says, a small smirk on her lips.
"But-"
"You have to trust me, Jon. Trust that what I'm doing is to protect you." He gave her a nod after a moment. "Now promise me you won't take it off."
"I promise."
♕
Davos Seaworth, Edd and Tormund all stood around Melisandre. The Red Woman gently brushed the dried blood from Jon's torso, being careful of the raised crescent shaped puncture wounds. The warm fire crackled in the corner as the men held their breath.
"So she's going to bathe him?" Edd asks after a moment, watching the woman with narrowed eyes. "All he needed was to die to get a woman to touch him?"
Tormund snickers, "You forget Ygritte, my friend. Only that woman would be stupid enough to get in bed with a crow. Now they're both dead."
Melisandre paused, letting out a quiet breath as she looked over her shoulder. Her dark brown eyes settled on Davos who looked Edd, who then looked to Tormund. The burly man only shrugged but made no effort to take back his blunt words.
Melisandre chose to continue her work. "I'm preparing him for the incantation. It would be rude to ask the Lord of Light for help with an offering in this... state."
"You mean dead? Your Lord would rather him be alive? Then your Lord will be the first that I agree with." Edd says, crossing his arms over his chest.
"My Lord also requires silence." Melisandre says firmly. "Are you two capable of it?"
Edd blows the air from his mouth, earning a snicker from Tormund while Davos watched. The Red Woman, now satisfied with the much needed silence, continues her chant in high Valyrian. When she finished prepping him, she took a moment to look at him.
His lips are dry and blue, as well as his once warm skin. The bumps and grooves from the swords are still open but not bleeding as they once were. When the woman placed her warm palms against the side of his cold chest, she recoiled and took a step back. A painful charge of electricity made her hands feel numb.
"What's the matter with her?" Edd asks, looking at Davos. "Is it just kicking in that there's a dead man on the table?"
"It won't work" Melisandre answers quietly.
"Why?" Davos asks, "you said you've never done this before and you haven't even started. How do you know it won't work?"
"A witch protects him."
It was only then that Tormund notices the pendent is no where to be seen. It might have fallen off when the Night's Watch stabbed him or when the Free Folk moved his body from the snow. Still, it's missing.
"Her talisman is somewhere on the grounds. Wherever it is a dead man is sure to follow." Tormund says. "No one can touch it unless allowed."
Edd gave the man an incredulous look. "You have to be allowed to touch a necklace? Seriously?"
"This necklace belongs to the Red Witch, lad. I've seen what happens to people who touch it without her blessing. That's why finding it amongst this group will be easy."
"Take the wolf, he might know the scent." Davos instructs, to which Tormund agrees. He let out a low whistle as he moved to the door with Ghost in tow.
"We all heard em' say witch, right?" Edd continues. "And a talisman that kills people when touched."
"Aye"
"Then who the fuck is going to be the one to touch it?" Edd asks. Everyone glances at each other, none of them speaking up to volunteer. "I think the lady should. See if her God protects its worshipers."
"And how are we supposed to bring Jon back with her dead?" Tormund asks.
"If you got a better idea in that big head of yours then please share it. Better yet, why don't you pick up the necklace. Westeros would be better off."
Tormund stalks toward the Edd, seething and not at all amused. "You want to say that again, little man?"
Davos took that as his cue to step in— that and he's tired of the back and forth. "We will figure out how to get the necklace when we find the necklace. We can't do that with you two at each other's throats."
Tormund scoffs but backs off, rolling his shoulders as he stalked out of the room with Ghost. Edd gave Davos a nod before following.
♕
Sansa Stark stared out into the white landscape, her mind running through all the things that have happened so far in such little time.
She once lived in a castle, surrounded by people who loved and adored her alongside her four and a half siblings. She didn't get along with all of them, but that was okay—at least now it is. She could count on them to play whenever she wanted or listen whenever she needed it. They were all happy or, at least, that Sansa thought she was. That young girl craved adventure outside of the cold walls of her home. She wanted to experience love and try knew things. She wanted to meet Queens and Kings, and perhaps later become one herself. She wanted everything she thought she'd never get on the grounds of her home.
How foolish that girl was.
She got exactly what she wanted. She left the comfort of her home and ended up in hell right after. She found adventure in the most darkest and cruelest way possible. She lost her father, her mother and her eldest brother mere months apart. She found the worst type of love in a psychotic boy pretending to be a King.
A foolish girl indeed.
"Are you alright, my lady?" Brienne asks, bringing the Stark woman out of her thoughts. "You've been staring at the trees for quite some time. I'm sure you must be tired."
"I'm fine, Brienne" she replies, though it's definitely a lie. "I'm just thinking."
The tall woman looked at the Stark girl for a few moments in silence before taking a seat on a log. No words needed to be spoken, at least not for the moment being. Although Brienne wasn't known for being a patient woman.
"That is a rather interesting brooch, Lady Stark. I can't say I've seen anything like it."
Sansa looked down at her hand, not even realizing she had been rubbing the nose of the wolf.
"A person back home had it made for me." She replies vaguely.
Brienne doesn't pick up on that. "A secret admirer perhaps, my lady?"
Sansa sighs to herself before looking at Brienne's hopeful brown eyes. Sansa wanted to tell the woman to leave the matter be but a thought stopped her from doing so. It's no secret that Brienne's features made her a target of isolation and ridicule, so she probably didn't have anyone to talk to growing up. Though she'd never admit it, the older woman wanted to experience what it'd be like to gossip with another woman.
"She wasn't a secret admirer" Sansa starts. "Her name is Marina, and she's a protector of sorts. She was charged by my father to watch over us."
"That must have been a great honor" Brienne says in shock. "A woman allowed to protect in a world where we're supposed to hide and surrender."
"I didn't think of it that way. I always made her tasks harder than they already were, and I spoke to her rather poorly." Sansa admits, much to her dismay.
The young girl didn't realize she had began rubbing the nose of the wolf brooch in her hand. Brienne did, however, pick up on that but chose to remain quiet.
"She protected my younger siblings and was around them more, but she still made time for my older brothers and I." A bitter smile appeared on her face. "She actually told me not to go to King's Landing despite how I treated her, and I said nasty things to her, things I wish I could take back."
"Yet you seem attached to her gift?"
"I told her I hated it when she gave it to me but now it's the only thing I have from home. It may sound crazy, but when I rub its nose it feels like she's with me."
Brienne watched the young girl's eyes lose focus as her mind began to drift once again. She stood from her seat. "Then I suppose we best find her so you can tell her if your change of heart."
"I doubt she'd accept my apology." I wouldn't.
Brienne looked down at the girl with a soft smile. "If she's as noble as you make her out to be then she'll forgive you easier than you think."