Chapter 19 - Snow! Snow! Snow!
Roslin
“Snow! Snow! Snow!” cawed the raven as it sat on the watchman's arm. Its black leathery wings were sodden as the snowflakes began to melt away, giving the bird a slick sheen like metal. It was blisteringly cold, with non-stop snow and freezing winds. Roslin had never been so cold and had wrapped herself in furs from head to toe, much to Sarra's amusement. Despite looking like a delicate Lyseni maid, Sarra was used to the brutal cold of the North. Her pretty nose was bright red, and so was her ears too, though it never seemed to bother her. A heavy fur coat was all she needed it seemed, even when Roslin warned her against the dangers of frostbite. The watchman with the raven was one of those that had accompanied Jon Snow to Winterfell, and he was unfurling a small scroll when Roslin and Sarra reared their horses next to him.
“What does the message say?” called Sarra through the howls of the harsh cold wind. The watchman turned and for a moment he frowned, probably angered at the notion of a stranger asking the contents of his private affairs. His frown disappeared though when he noticed Roslin, who, despite the many furs wrapped around her, was still noticeable to him.
He bowed slowly whilst trying to keep a hold of the raven. “Your Grace.” His voice was low and hoarse, more like a bear's growl than a man's voice.
Roslin lowered the fur scarf she had wrapped around her mouth so she could speak, though she soon regretted it when she felt the cruel wind freezing her lips. “Well met ser...”
“Rast. Your Grace. Though I am no ser.” The raven began to caw again, though this time there were no words, just the animalistic calls of a freezing bird. As Rast tried to calm the raven, Roslin's eyes turned to the small rolled up parchment in the watchman's hand.
“What does that scroll say?” Instantly Rast turned to Roslin and Sarra, his eyes deep with suspicion and caution. Little did he know that he had just confirmed the importance of the message itself.
“You can tell us” insisted Sarra as she puffed her chest up and fluttered her eyes, a charm offensive that would no doubt succeed on a man starved of female company.
“It's a message from the Lord Commander” answered Rast “It is meant for Lord Sno- I mean Jon, Your Grace.”
Ever since the Bastard of Winterfell had arrived with the news of Mance Rayder's march on the Wall, Roslin had felt a feeling of dread hanging over her. She didn't know why, he was in no way rude or hostile to her, and there was no way he could take Winterfell and the North from her children as he was a sworn member of the Night's Watch. She had tried to forget about but so far she failed to do so, and any reminder of him made her extremely anxious.
With the desire for knowledge no longer with her, Roslin decided to put an end the conversation. “Well then Rast, I suggest you get your message to Jon Snow as quickly as possible.”
The watchman looked anxiously at Sarra one last time before replying. “Yes, Your Grace.” With the raven still perched on his arm, Rast slowly cantered away on his horse and eventually, his black cloak was lost in the sea of white. When Roslin turned to Sarra she caught her with the classic sultry grin she would give to all would be conquests, it was a look that turned Roslin's stomach if only because she had seen her do it to Perwyn. The image of Perwyn and Sarra being locked in a carnal embrace had been burnt in her mind ever since.
“You shouldn't tease him,” Roslin said as she pulled up her fur hood.
Sarra rolled her eyes and shrugged. “What's wrong with teasing him, he probably deserves it.”
“Even if that is so, I don't want you to cause tension between us and the Night's Watch. We are allies, we should treat them so.” The reply Roslin gave didn't seem to please Sarra.
“Those men who man the Wall are not like your dashing knights or yore, Your Grace. They're murderers, thieves, rapers, the detritus of humanity that has been flung to the far edge of the world. They would happily sell you to Mance Rayder if it meant their freedom, but only after they had mounted you themselves.”
“I know that” replied Roslin sternly “but all the same we must be respectful. And I want no more talk of mounting and raping and...”
“Fucking?” responding Sarra with an impish grin.
“Yes!” Roslin shouted, half serious and half playful.
Sarra began to chuckle and whispered, “what about humping?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Roslin and Sarra had returned to the army they found them on the march once again, nearly twenty thousand men marching through mounds of snow all to protect the Wall. Making her way up the column of soldiers, Roslin eventually found Jon Snow and his compatriots quietly conversing with one another. Gently Roslin rode her horse next to Jon whilst trying to be as silent as she could.
“Did Rast get the message to you?” Roslin caused Jon to recoil in surprise, and for a moment he struggled to stay on his saddle.
“Yes he did, Your Grace” answered a perplexed Jon “he also told me you let him keep the contents private, and for that I thank you.”
“Well it was a private message, I had no right to read it.” Roslin's answer made Jon let out a slight smile, the first she had seen from him since they left Winterfell. Ever since she met the Starks Roslin was always told that it was Jon who resembled Ned Stark the most, even Robb admitted it. He claimed that Jon had inherited the looks, the personality, and the respect of their father, just not the family name. She always had the sense that Robb would have legitimised Jon if he asked for it, though if Jon was like his father perhaps he was too honourable to ask for such a thing.
The smile on Jon's face soon left, and talk turned to war. “The Lord Commander has sent me grave news. Mance Rayder's army has been sighted at the southern edge of the Haunted Forest, he says they will be at the Wall in two days.”
“The Wall is tall and strong, it should hold out against them until we arrive.”
“I hope so, Your Grace. We must remember though, Mance was once a Black Brother like me, he swore the oaths and pledged his life for the Watch. He knows the ways to get in and out of the Wall, if anyone is going to take Castle Black, it's him.” Jon let a deep sigh and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I think I've had enough of talking about war, it's all I seem to do. Besides I want to hear how Robb's doing, I've not seen him for so long now.”
Roslin wanted to tell Jon how much she missed her husband, how every night she would yearn for his company, how much she missed his warm embrace. But she knew she couldn't, she was a Queen and wife and she had a duty to keep her private life private. “I do not know what he was like with you, but from the time I spent with him he was kind, headstrong, compassionate...and solemn.”
“I don't know how he does it when I heard of our father's murder I struggled to cope for a while. If it wasn't for my friends I doubt I would have got through it.”
“The war is his way of coping at least that's what I think he believes.”
“And do you?”
Roslin paused for a moment as she thought of an answer, not one that was right but one that was correct for the moment. She knew that is was folly, war for vengeance will never fill the hole that has been left in you. At the same time, she sensed that Robb knew that already, as did Lady Catelyn who's primary concern always seemed to be her two daughters. “It's not for me to say, Lord Eddard was not my father and I no not what it's like to lose someone that close in such horrifying circumstances. All I know is your father marched south for vengeance all those years ago and it didn't bring him solace.”
Jon nodded. “No, at the end of it his sister was dead and he had bastard to care for.”
You stupid bitch Roslin how could you have not foreseen that! Roslin began to panic in fear of insulting her brother-in-law. “Oh no, I didn't mean it like that-”
“I know you didn't, Your Grace, but that is the truth.” There were no words Roslin could think of to reply to Jon, and instead, she remained quiet and allowed the sounds of horse hooves and marching in the snow take over.
As the silence continued Roslin thought about why her feelings about Jon fluctuated so much and it was then she reached an epiphany. She was afraid, not of him personally but what he represented, the living proof of infidelity. By all accounts Lord Eddard was an honourable and just man who stuck to his vows, hardly the type to sire a bastard, and yet he did. If someone like Ned Stark could not resist the desires of the flesh, how could Robb? Roslin once heard her cousin Edmyn say that war makes a man thirsty for peace and pleasure and that the more carnal the pleasure was, the better. It was not like Roslin was innocent either, she felt the yearnings of pleasure ever since she had left Riverrun, and the longer she was apart from Robb the stronger that need was becoming.
“Your Grace!” Jon suddenly shouted as he pointed to the horizon “look!”
Appearing over the horizon was a large white block that ran across Roslin's entire field of view. It was the Wall and it was far larger than Roslin expected, in fact, it was so big that even thinking about standing on top of it made her feel queasy. “Wow...it's...”
Jon chuckled “That was my reaction as well when I first saw it.”
It was the deep into the night when the army finally arrived at Castle Black, and unlike it's larger counterpart, the castle was a shoddy sight to behold. Half of the buildings were ruins, and those that were garrisoned looked close to collapse. The watchmen themselves look less like guardians of the Seven Kingdoms and more like starving and freezing men at the end of the world. They watched her suspiciously as she rode into the castle and all she could think about was what Sarra had said they would do to her.
Accompanying her
was Jon, Ser Rodrik, and Lords Reed, Glover, and Ryswell. In the courtyard were ten members of the Watch, with a large old muscly man stood in front of them. Jon dismounted first, taking time to help Roslin off her horse before approaching the large man and bowing.
“Lord Commander may I present Roslin of House Frey, Queen of the North and of the Trident.” Jon stood and turned to Roslin “and Your Grace, may I present you Lord Commander Jeor Mormont of the Night's Watch.”
When Lord Commander went to one knee the rest of his men followed. “Your Grace” the old bear growled, “Castle Black welcomes you and thank you for your assistance in such dire times.”
Roslin waved her hand upwards allowing them to stand. There was a time she would have been too timid to do such a thing, but those days were long gone. She had to learn to become a queen quickly, but she had done it none the less. “It's okay Lord Commander, it is the least we can do. The Watch has protected us for thousands of years, and now the North returns the favour.”
“And I thank you for it.” Once he had gotten to his feet, Jeor motioned to a small scrawny boy behind him, who scuttled to the Lord Commander and gave him a scroll before scurrying off again. “We have news, Your Grace, from the capital. It arrived only two hours ago, and I thought it may interest you.”
Intrigued, Roslin took the scroll from the Lord Commanders hand and looked at the seal. It was emblazoned with a stag in the centre of a flaming heart. She didn't need help to understand who's sigil that was. A wellspring of fear began to fill her as she unfurled it, only to be greeted with news she did not expect...
To all high lords of Westeros
The false king, Joffrey Waters, has been deposed, attainted, and punished for the crimes of murder, sedition, and attempted usurpation of the crown. His head now sits on a spike on the walls of the Red Keep, his debased nature for all to see. To ensure that Westeros lives in everlasting peace, a treaty has been ratified between the Iron Throne and the Kingdom of the North, securing peace and amity between both kingdoms. All those who reject the treaty are to be considered enemies of the realm and will be punished with the full strength of the law.
Signed,
Stannis of House Baratheon, the First of the His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm
Robb of House Stark, the First of His Name, Lord of Winterfell, and King in the North and of the Trident.
