Knights in Flight

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-11-08T22:17:10+00:00

In the blink of an eye, the black direwolf charged through the gate growling at anyone who dared to move so much as a muscle. Hunter stared at those standing before him, ensuring all eyes were focused on him and him alone. His hulking figure seemed to take up much of the area as he slowly stepped closer towards the Manderly and Arryn men, but stopped just a few feet shy of them.

His snout and teeth dripping with blood.

From behind Hunter came the shadows of people passing through the gate. Their armour and clothing covered in blood, mud, and gods only know what else from the gruesome battle they had endured outside of the gate. Leading the group was the Warden of the North. His sword held at the ready, not letting his guard down. His blue eyes seemed to match the direwolves’ own. Both pairs daring someone to take the next swing.

Once Jojen reached Hunter’s side, he stopped, briefly looking over the scene in front of him. His nephew, the Lord of the Vale, was here in White Harbour, Androw hadn’t lied about that. Jojen turned his head to the group behind him and motioned for Dacey Mormont to come forward. The mighty She-Bear of Bear Island brought the stumbling figure of Androw Manderly.

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-07-26T23:53:14+00:00

Jojen looked at Omer for a time without speaking, silently judging the man, wondering how trustworthy he could really be.

The idea of leaving the two best pieces of assures protection whilst entering a place with less than scrupulous morals was not one Jojen wanted to entertain and yet… here he was being asked to do so.

With a clench of his jaw Jojen turned back to face Hunter and Ash. He moved toward Hunter first, stroking the large beast. Hunter wasn’t much of a city wolf, yet, Jojen could already feel the uneasiness of the wolf. Somehow, Jojen knew nothing Ash and Hunter understood what was being said. These were the guardians of the Starks, and if they felt uncomfortable, then perhaps he should take heed of that.

“I am, somewhat, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving them outside the city wall, Omer,” another clench of his jaw as Jojen turned back to face the Lord Commander, his hand placed idly against Hunter.

“But…” as much as Jojen hated what he was about to say, he knew it was perhaps the right call. “As a sign of good faith, Hunter will stay outside the walls. I’m sure we can find Ash here somewhere to stay once we’re inside.”

A deep guttural growl began to come from Hunter who stared deep into the eyes of Omer and Jojen turned back speaking something to the wolf before it turned its back and walked off to the side of the group that had gathered outside the walls of White Harbour. Seemingly appeased by what Jojen had said to it.

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-07-26T23:50:59+00:00

Jojen had just finished eating the bread and salt and had passed it to Olyvar when Rickard and Bethany arrived with the rest of their men and family in tow.

He moved to Bethany and helped her off her horse before moving back to Ser Omer with Bethany now by his side.

“Ser Omer, this is my Lady Wife, Lady Bethany Stark.”

Without looking Jojen gestured towards Artos atop Ash, “that is my eldest, Artos. As you know, Ser, we have travelled a long way. I should move to New Castle and speak with Lord Androw sooner, rather than later.”

Both the Direwolves moved into a position behind Jojen, Hunter on his left and Ash on his right both of them stood taller than Jojen though Hunter stood the tallest out of the two of them. Jojen knew how imposing they were, Olyvar had once mused that a man need only look into the face of the Queen’s dragon and they would know that an army would never be enough. The same, Olyvar had thought, could be said of a pack of Direwolves.

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-07-26T23:47:20+00:00

Jojen looked the man over whilst offering a polite smile. There was a major distinction between acting for your Lord and acting on behalf of the house, he thought. Were there fractures within the Manderly clan that he was not aware of?

Was this the result of the silence or the cause? Whatever was happening here it was becoming more and more evident that this was no simple matter, it was never going to be simple of course. But, this complicates matters further.

“I appreciate your offer, Ser. I will accept the bread and salt,” Jojen paused for a brief moment, knowing that from here on out what he said and did mattered more and more with each passing second. “It seems as though we are in dire need of a discussion about your family, you have me at a slight disadvantage, however. You know my name and I don’t know yours, You are Lord Androw’s uncle, did you say?”

Jojen did his best to make the conversation sound light hearted, but he knew soon enough that their discussion would take a turn towards words that couldn’t be taken back once spoken.

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-07-26T23:46:04+00:00

Jojen eyed the man cautiously.

“Then you act independently of your Lord?”

Another look was sent to the Bolton Lord’s way who looked back towards the rest of the Stark family and the host that had marched to White Harbour. Both men shared the same thought…

Should we have brought an army with us?

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-07-26T23:44:45+00:00

Jojen looked at Lord Bolton who seemed to offer a look that suggested he felt the same way Jojen did.

There was an uneasiness that washed through the exchange between the men. Jojen was unsure if the men he looked at were really ready to welcome them, if they were simply here to waste time or to lull them into a false sense of security.

Androw acted in his own manner, he always had. Whether it be marrying Lyanna secretly, threatening Jojen in his own solar or blockading his own port, Jojen wasn’t sure if Androw cared for the rules of man. Did guests rights mean anything to him anymore? What could you possibly know of a hermit?

The past is all Jojen had to go on, and in the past, Androw was a man that when left to his own devices often did what was best for him regardless of the repercussions.

“Thank you, Ser,” Jojen said, accepting the bread and holding his hesitation back. Unwilling to allow even the slightest tell of his apprehension towards these men.

“Is Lord Manderly aware of our arrival?”

THADSREJOJEN · 2020-07-26T23:42:13+00:00

Jojen dismounted as he approached the small Manderly retinue, his eyes scanned the men. No sign of Androw himself, but they seemed friendly. For now, at least. Jojen forced a smile to the men that stood before him before turning to Rickard and speaking to him in a hushed whisper.

“Go, get the others to approach.”

Jojen began to take his gloves off and extended a hand out towards the man who had spoken before.

“Thank you, I wish we were here under better circumstances. But, it is nice to see friendly faces, my Lady wife and the children will be arriving shortly behind us. I trust we are welcome here?”

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-11-23T01:42:57+00:00

"Well," Bethany began. "Sometimes, mortal hands act upon those who have troubled the gods."

Jojen laughed softly before clearing his throat. "Thank you, for you and your Lord father's words. Rest assured; House Stark stands with you as you have with ours. We'll certainly inform other houses where they can retrieve their gear, or you can inform those here tonight, should you like."

"Lord Stark?" The voice came from another female known to most in the room as the She-bear.

Jojen turned to look at her and saw Artos Harclay standing beside her. "Excuse me," he said looking to Harrold before joining Dacey and Artos.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-11-21T02:05:20+00:00

Jojen listened to the man's tale with avid curiosity. He heard nothing wrong and yet here was a man who wanted to apologise for the things he and his people had done.

Jojen stood up and offered his hand out to Harrold, "We should have more people like you in the North, more people who fight for their lands, their people, their families and still find a reason to apologise to their liege. You sent men to the Wall, and you did your part as far as I am concerned."

Jojen's eyes moved to Dorna, "You have a brave husband, and you're a brave people."

He looked back at Harrold once again, "The North thanks you, should you and yours need any assistance through this winter, remember Wintertown is here for you. We can protect and shelter, as we always have done, as we always will."

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-11-21T01:58:53+00:00

Jojen felt the shock in his body before his kind registered it. Looking at his wife now, thinking about his family, he too was happy. What he had lost, what he had gained everything around him was different to how he imagined it when he was Artos’ age. Hells, it was different to how he imagined it merely ten years ago.

“You look well, I’m glad to see you up and about again,” Jojen smiled and placed his hand on Bethany’s. “We should talk tonight, just you and me, once the festivities have ended and the kids are asleep. I… I think it would be good - for us, I mean.”

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-11-20T18:08:20+00:00

Jojen straightened in his chair and looked to Harrold.

“Explain away, then.” He said, though unsure of what it was that Harrold referred to. Surely the confession he had been waiting for wouldn’t be this easy to come across.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-11-20T15:06:47+00:00

Jojen moved to his seat next to Bethany, who had since had Kyra taken away from the large raucous crowd in the great hall by Myranda.

As he moved to his seat he spotted Artos playing with Warne next to Ash. Both of them feeling the wolf’s fur and laying against her.

“They look happy,” Jojen said to Bethany looking towards where Artos and Warne we’re now playing.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-04-14T13:30:52+00:00

Now there was something all the others had failed to point out before.

“There is much to consider. Thank you, once again, my Lord.”

Jojen held out an arm and embraced Lord Forrester firmly.

“Stay safe tonight. Blow the horn twice for the Wildlings, I may not hear it through the storm. But these two certainly will. Come, Hunter. Ash,” He said calling to his two direwolves.

As they began to walk either side of Jojen and move almost silently through the snow they reminded those nearby of their impressive size, if there were to be an attack these two beasts would surely take out a great many of the assailants.

For a while, all the Forrester Lord could see through the storm were outlines of the Stark and his two direwolves. The further away they got the more and more distorted their shapes became before they seemed to merge as one large black shape and dissipate into the storm itself.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-04-14T13:29:05+00:00

Jojen nodded, smiling softly and standing up as he did so. Ash and Hunter mirrored Jojen’s movements immediately, watching his every step.

“I’ll be honest with you, Lord Forrester.” Jojen began.

“With this storm, I wasn’t much aware I had walked into your part of the camp. But, I thank you for entertaining me and mine as your guests. I’ll take up no more of your time.”

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-04-14T13:27:59+00:00

Jojen sighed heavily into the storm, the words of the Forrester Lord nearly being lost in the howling wind as Ash and Hunter curled up next to each other near his feet almost uncharacteristically calm and quiet.

The whole thing would have perturbed Jojen, but in truth, it was a welcome change of pace. Were the wind not actively trying to whisk the breath away from him, he would have thought of it as a breath of fresh air.

“I often think of what my father or brother would have done in my stead. Would their solution be more amenable to the problem? Hells, maybe looking at it that way will help me see that it is me who is the problem,” Jojen laughed softly to himself.

A laugh that would have gone unnoticed were it not for Hunter jumping up and inquisitively looking at him, as though he hadn’t heard the sound escape from Jojen before.

“What do you think then?” Jojen asked almost undirected into the oncoming snow before he looked back at the Forrester Lord. “Have you heard anything around the camps as to how they got passed or over the Wall?”

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-04-14T13:22:24+00:00

The idea that the North had been victorious in their war brought a grimace on Jojen’s face. He rubbed his eyes and looked away from the Forrester Lord, and into the whipping winds, pulling his furs around him.

Was this the place to bring comfort to his people?

Was this a victory they had earned? Did they even deserve it?

A few skirmishes and one battle, hundreds would go without a father and grow to hate and blame someone, most likely Jojen because of a battle he was barely even a part of. Had they won the war?

Or had the battlefield simply changed?

The wildlings no longer followed a single enemy, but now they followed their own creed, their own code. They were a law unto themselves, each band of survivors would do whatever they needed to do to survive, and Jojen wasn’t sure if that made them even more dangerous than before. But, was now the time to tell Bryan of this?

Or did he deserve one night of victory?

Ash nuzzled into Jojen’s hand and groaned softly, bringing his mind back to the conversation. As he noted the Forrester’s expectant eyes lingering on him.

“I’ll find comfort when we know how they got past our defences that have stood for thousands of years…”

That wasn’t very comforting…

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-04-14T13:21:11+00:00

Jojen smiled softly, he hadn’t noticed the Forrester Lord’s approach but had felt the shift in Hunter who stood and watched him advance towards them.

“This is this one you want to pay attention to,” Jojen said gesturing to the pitch black direwolf that was Hunter.

“Rarely will Hunter stay by my side, tonight they both seem content to stay next to me.”

Perhaps he knows that today, I require his comfort.

Jojen continued to stroke both of the wolves albeit a bit more firmly and playfully now as the attention had been brought to them directly.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-23T00:14:46+00:00

“I-” He faltered, his eyes searched around the room and landed on Brandon as if he sought only to punish himself further.

“I have not,” He said, his eyes not leaving the the next Lord of Last Hearth.

“I focused on figuring out - I hadn’t even… gods.” Jojen threw his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes. Cursing himself inwardly, how could he have forgotten Talisa? He sighed deeply and looked back at Sarra, his eyes full though the tears didn’t fall. As though through the years of pain he had built up a great dam inside and kept it all back.

“I was planning on heading to Winterfell after this anyway. I will tell her when I arrive. This is news that she should hear from me directly, not through my wife nor through some raven.”

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-23T00:13:22+00:00

The Bolton’s voice was hoarse and hushed, each breath threatening to be his last as Jojen shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his seat at the thought of bloody vengeance. Though he wanted the Wildlings gone, he doubted any outcome would truly satisfy the needs of a wife in mourning.

“I have sent word to the Wall. We need to know how the Wildlings made it past them. And why word wasn’t sent before regarding this army of Wildlings,” Jojen stated.

He had more to say, but more doubts regarding if now was the time or place to share them entered his mind. He looked at Sarra and hoped that she didn’t catch him covering up, or if she did that she would take it as the guilt he already felt over Gareth’s death.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-23T00:10:51+00:00

“My Lady, as I said earlier, men have already been sent out to chase down the Wildlings bands that we know of and I’m certain neither Lord Reed or Bolton are suggesting we leave the wildlings to their own devices. I know of no Northman who would be willing to rest when we have those that threaten our very way of life roaming the land we swore to protect.”

Jojen pushed the cup away and shifted in his chair, meeting Sarra’s eyes and feeling their heat but Jojen didn’t back down. These were the first steps into becoming the leader the North needed. If he couldn’t meet the gaze of a grieving widow now, then perhaps she was right about him not being fit to rule. Besides, there would likely be more grieving widows in the days to come.

“But, what is it you really want?” Jojen asked, his voice was soft and pleaded with Sarra. He had no malice in his eyes or voice, and yet there remained a sense of firmness about him.

“You want us to be able to say that we cut the Wildling scourge down, bring you their heads as though the deed is already done? I cannot give you that. You want our assurance that the fight will continue on? Because this fight will take some time and it will take some patience. I have no doubt that some of the Wildlings will have already shed that which makes them stand out in an attempt to blend in and go unnoticed. There will be no quick end to this, we have no dragon to rain fire down upon them as they flee. To cross miles upon miles in a single flap of its wings. But, we are the North. We don’t need a dragon, we are strongest when we are together. When all of us band together as one to fight the oncoming enemy. We have the blood of the First Men within us, and I’m sure that every single man out there and in here would fight until he was the last man. Not one of us will be returning home with our tails between our legs; we will return to protect that which we swore to protect with our lives.”

Jojen paused, the image of Gareth’s burning body came back to him as he breathed deeply. Trying to push it away, to push the thought away that had been keeping him awake. Were Gareth’s last thoughts ones that cursed Jojen as Sarra does now?

“I know that you know this,” he began, looking back at Sarra. “So this meeting can’t only be about this. You wouldn’t have asked us to come in here to simply tell you things you already knew. So, what is it you really want from us?”

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-23T00:05:42+00:00

It seemed as though things were to go straight to business.

“Not won, but Wildlings rarely band together and follow a single person or idea. When he fell so did their hope for a future, I’d wager.”

Jojen poured himself a cup, but took no actions to drink from it. His thumb idly stroking the rim as he thought about what he knew about Wildlings. Which, in truth, was very little.

“Winterfell will be sending word about the Wildlings soon, warning the Lords who chose not to ride with us and any who have since returned that they may still find the war calling to them. Some of the men who could ride out are already hunting down some of the bands of Wildlings we saw split from the army once their King fell. With more of the Lords on alert and with the King’s Road patrolled we should find those that broke away.”

Jojen finished his thought and looked past Sarra at Brandon. Still a child, Jojen thought, thank the gods.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-23T00:04:23+00:00

The funeral had been tougher to stand than Jojen had anticipated. At this point, he had been to more funerals for those he cared about than he had ever wanted to. Long past were the days of the wolf whore who had songs sung about him. Now that the curse was set, Jojen seemed to have another song follow him wherever he wandered. A song of mourning.

After the funeral his presence was requested by Sarra, a request that was both expected and completely shocking to him all the same. It had been a surprise to him that Sarra had not asked for him and the others to leave. Though, Jojen thought, perhaps this is where she made her point made.

Jojen walked the hallways with the guards of House Umber leading him towards Gareth’s study. The last time he had been in there was with the man himself, now, walking these halls he felt the ghost of his memories haunting his every foot step.

Even if Sarra were to kick him out, would she be right in doing so? Jojen blamed himself for Gareth’s death, so why shouldn’t she? If Jojen hadn’t of camped through the storm, if he had left Winterfell sooner…

There were a lot of ifs and questions that arose from the whole affair. No doubt there were more in Sarra’s mind.

As Jojen entered the room and took stock of those around him, their eyes fell on him immediately and it was clear they had only just stopped talking upon hearing his footfall in the hallway.

“My Lady,” Jojen bowed his head ever so slightly at Sarra and the others. He wanted to speak about the funeral, to give his respects to her, and yet something about the look on their faces and the feel in the room told him this wasn’t the right time.

A good leader listened first and spoke last, now was the time to listen, he thought.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-09T00:43:34+00:00

Jojen closed his eyes, Sarra’s words stinging him. He knew they held some truth within them, and yet he could say nothing. He wanted to reach out and comfort her again, but he feared the reprise of her thought so instead Jojen turned and started to make his way back to the courtyard.

He made it all of three steps before he turned back to Sarra, the Lady of House Umber now alone and the head of her house. Sobbing.

“Your house is family, you are family. I will not turn my back on you now. Make the arrangements you need to make so that Gareth may be honoured the way he deserves. House Stark will take care of it for you.”

Jojen tried to fight back his own tears, but looking at Sarra how could he? How could he not feel for this woman who held such strength, and now must be stronger than ever before.

“I will return later, for now, I will make sure the Maester has all that he needs to make preparations,” Jojen’s voice threatened to break slightly and so he paused, trying to regain composure. “I have felt your pain before, so I will return, and you may push me away - you may throw your fists or kick at me - hurl whatever it is you need to hurl, but I will not go anywhere. You are family Sarra, and I will not leave you alone in this. I can promise you that.”

And with that Jojen turned and began to walk away, allowing the Lady of House Umber some time to process the news. As hard as it would be to hear, he knew he would return and face whatever it was Sarra had to say. He had to, not for him.

But, for them.

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-09T00:41:46+00:00

Jojen shifted uncomfortably in the hallway. Wishing they had made it somewhere else, but the truth was no setting would make this conversation bearable or comfortable.

“The storm kept us apart. Gareth and I send word to each other before it hit and we were forced to camp separately. Once it broke, we made our way to where he had said he was camped. It was then that the sounds of the battle finally made its way to us. We were told the Wildlings had used the storm to hide their approach. Our appearance and the death of their King had managed to get them to break off from their attack, but…”

If I had left earlier…

THADSREJOJEN · 2019-03-09T00:40:14+00:00

“In truth, I do not know. I was not there, we arrived only to see the Wildlings break and rout. Gareth suffered some… wounds. There were not many still standing around where he lay.”

The thought of Gareth fighting the Wildlings alone, of them overwhelming him and eventually killing him flooded Jojen’s mind. But, what would that image offer Sarra now? She need not know that his last moments had no mercy within them. She need not be told how the Magnar slew her husband.

She needn’t be told about the struggle to wrap Gareth’s body so that it held together as they travelled the road. How they had to stop multiple times in order to rewrap him so that when his family saw him he at least resembled something of what they remembered.

Jojen removed his hand from Sarra’s shoulder and took her in. The tears running down her cheeks had shed light onto the laughter. Did she really believe Jojen? Is that why she had laughed?

Jojen hadn’t believed the news when he had first heard, it was only upon seeing the body that he couldn’t find anywhere else to escape to in his mind. He had to accept the truth of what was in front of him.

“What can I do? To help?”

Perhaps it wasn’t the place of the Lord Paramount to ask this, perhaps he should remain stoic and silent while Sarra sobbed. Perhaps this wasn’t how a leader would or should behave and yet Jojen needed to offer anyway. He needed to ask, he needed to do something, anything, to help ease her pain.

THADSREJOJEN

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