Although you know, you know,
I think I'm starting to understand
What you meant.
(c) The Unfortunate Incident
If Sansa had said at that moment that Craster's house was wonderful, Jon, having returned from the Wailing Pass and spent a good month in the Enchanted Forest, would have agreed with her completely and not even suspected the irony. Craster's house was warm, there was always hot food, and the only price John had to pay was telling Craster several times a day how they had taught Mance a lesson. Jon spent most of his time lying on the floorboards, constantly trying to drag Ygritte there, who for some reason did not like Craster's house very much: on the first day she was sleepy from the unfamiliar heat and stuffiness, and from the second day she began to miss the sky above her head and constantly went out into the yard, where she stood silently, looking through the palisade. Jon only vaguely guessed what Qhoren had said to Ygritte directly: that she would have to get used to this house, just as she would have to get used to Jon's constant fighting and absences, while Ygritte felt that she did not want such a life; she needed silence, space, and the hidden danger of the forest.
John had grown up within the castle walls and couldn't understand how anyone could miss the forest, especially when he had been there and seen for himself that Uncle Benjen was right when he warned John in his dreams that everyone in the Haunted Forest wanted to kill him. Ygritte's arguments that no one wanted to kill Jon, not even the predators or the Wildlings who had just been chasing them, did not convince Jon at all, and he felt that the Enchanted Forest was a hostile environment.
"Do you seriously think that the bears in the forest want to kill you?" Ygritte asked in bewilderment.
"Of course," agreed Jon, who was supported in his thoughts not only by Uncle Benjen, but even by Qhoren, with whom Jon had once shared similar thoughts. "A scout has to be a little paranoid," Qhoren used to say. "And a commander even more so. You can only trust your own people, and even then, you have to keep an eye on them."
"You'll see," John continued, "if a bear gets near me, it'll attack me, and it would be foolish to expect anything else."
"He'll attack anyone!" Igrith protested.
"And how is that supposed to make me feel any better?" John replied reasonably.
Like anyone who had grown up and served in a castle, Jon took security seriously, and he was also a good and responsible guy, raised in a place where men protected women. John himself was ready to endure the hardships of service and go beyond the Wall when the time came, even if it meant going alone — to Craster's home, where it would probably be best to leave Ygritte, a long way, but better he would make that journey with his direwolf than have her make her way through the forest, where the Others and the dead were already beginning to appear even near the Wall itself.
Meanwhile, Ygritte was beginning to understand what kind of protection her companions were counting on against witchcraft, but she did not yet understand its nature or how to use it.
"So you're afraid for me?" Ygritte asked slyly when Jon told her for the second time about his encounter with the wights and the battle beyond the Wall, from which Lionel had miraculously returned alive thanks to his fury and unerring killer instinct.
"Yes," admitted honest John, and Ygritte felt that she too had power over her sorcerer.
"What would you do to keep me from going into the forest?" Ygritte asked curiously.
"I'd leave you here," replied the straightforward Jon, who didn't quite understand the question. He hadn't seen many women, even prostitutes, and didn't think you could bargain with a woman, especially about matters of the heart.
"And if I don't agree?" Ygritte continued to tease Jon, but Jon, of course, did not threaten her; he was simply offended.
After spending four days with Ygritte at Craster's, Jon began to feel much, much better about Sansa. "The way she latched onto Leo as soon as he came back, she won't leave him alone," Jon thought approvingly. "He'll have a good wife: she doesn't need anything but him. And she listens to him, didn't get in his way, left for Craster's like he told her to. Leo really knows how to handle people: he even sent Arya to Craster, and she couldn't let go of his hand on the first night either... By the way, what's she doing?"
Fortunately for Lionel, Ygritte had confused Jon's mind enough that he had no spare capacity left to think about Lionel and Arya. Instead, as he was falling asleep, Jon thought again about Sansa: what if his eyes hadn't deceived him all his childhood, and she really did feel better in a dress than in travelling clothes, and didn't like long horse rides, but had just gotten used to them? This thought made him feel very sad, and he felt sorry not so much for his sister as for himself: John couldn't imagine Ygritte twirling around in a ball gown, not that he wanted to, but she would never think, "If he wants it, I'll get used to it."
On the evening before their departure, Qoren decided to talk to Jon, seeing that he was in a gloomy mood, but it was too late."Where is she going on the road?" Qoren asked Jon sternly. "If you're completely stupid and plan to take her with you to the Wall, at least think about how she'll get back. What, is she asking to see our locks?"
"She's seeing us to the first stop," Jon said awkwardly, unable to tell his commander that he still hadn't decided to tell Ygritte definitively and firmly that they were leaving without her and that she had to stay with Craster.
"Oh, you fool!" Qoren was so upset that he even blurted out something he hardly ever said. "You can't do that. Even if she clings to you like the girls cling to Lionel, you still can't. Don't cut off the dog's tail piece by piece, pull yourself together. And remember, by the way: we don't have a horse for her, she'll have to walk back.
Quoren was right, of course: at the first halt, Jon took Ygritte aside, and she was very upset with him for sending her away like that in front of everyone. However, Jon also had a few words for her.
"I am a free woman and I will go where I want!" Ygritte shouted, as if renouncing all the promises she had made before the battle.
"You're my woman!" John roared. "You'll go where I tell you to go!"
Perhaps if Ygritte had a horse, it would have carried her to Craster's house, obeying Jon's bewitching will, and Ygritte understood this and even cowered a little, even though she was already much smaller and weaker than Jon. But even in his anger, Jon could not strike her, let alone punish her in such a way, and Ygritte had not grown up in a place where noble restraint was valued, and in any case would not have been able to appreciate it while she was angry.
"Go," Jon said calmly as Ygritte strapped her skis to her feet and took her weapon from Quoren. "Come back when you've changed your mind." Jon turned away and walked back to his men, while Quoren looked at him with respect.
In difficult times, John was always supported by his family and thoughts of them. His sisters were still too young to find the right words for such a moment, but they were smart enough to remain silent, and John remembered what else he had to ask Qoren at Craster's.
"Quoren, was Benjen's wife there?" John asked about Craster's house.
"He wasn't there, why would she be?" Qoren replied calmly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he brought her to Winterfell. You Starks are very fond of the wildlings. I don't mean you, but Joren said that some healthy girl from beyond the Wall was after your younger brother."
"My uncle is missing beyond the Wall," Jon said, angering Qoren.
"Where did he disappear to?" Cuoren asked, a little surprised. "He probably ran away again."
"What desertion?" John was taken aback.
"What do you mean, desertion? Honourable desertion," Cuoren was even more surprised. "When they called you Lord Snow at the training centre, why did it sound so unfriendly? Because you're a white knight. How do you imagine your father chopping off his own brother's head for coming home without permission? Didn't those savage chiefs tell you how the Roys recently came to us and went behind the Wall to mourn Waymar? If you put Waymar in prison for even the slightest offence, the Roys would come to you to clarify the details. Not to mention that the one whose relative is in the Watch now gives the Watch much more money than the rest, and did so before, otherwise his relative would never have thought of joining the Watch. It's better not to get involved or to negotiate with the family.
John rode in silence for five minutes, digesting what he had heard, but then returned to the conversation about Uncle Benjen.
"I don't know where he went," Quoren shrugged. "It must be a good place to live, since his wife followed him there."
John didn't tell him about his dreams, but he thought seriously about the fact that Benjen was alive in his dreams, looking like himself and surprisingly perceptive.
After thinking about Uncle Benjen's fate and coming to no conclusion, John decided to take a closer look at his sisters, who had become quite unruly in the second half of the journey, seeing that Cuoren was too observant and John too slow on the uptake. Just as John decided to pay attention to his sisters, Arya was riding in front of Leo again, supposedly to give her horse a rest, while Sansa rode alongside and occasionally teased them both. John's intuition told him that something was wrong with this picture, and he became concerned that Arya had climbed somewhere or run off again during the stop at Craster's and had hurt herself or pulled a muscle. Jon was a caring brother and loved his little sister, so when he caught up with Leo, he offered Arya a ride to give Leo a rest, which at first embarrassed the sisters a little, but then made them laugh.
"He doesn't need to rest," replied Arya, who loved dangerous stunts, and glanced up at Leo. "He's going to be in pain for a long, long time."
John was the only one who didn't get the joke and thought that Leo had lost a bet, while Leo understood two meanings and decided that John needed to be prepared for a collision with reality.During a break, Lionel decided to tell Jon about some matrimonial difficulties Robb had encountered, which no one had written to Jon about on the Wall. In Lionel's mouth, the story of Robb's campaign turned out to be quite exciting, for which Lionel did not hesitate to invent the missing details, and towards the end of the story, John sincerely sympathised with his brother, who had been captivated by the beauty of Jane Westerling and had forgotten his engagement to Roslin Frey for her sake.
"Yes, I also forgot my duty as a watchman," sighed John.
"What duty?" asked Lionel, who was used to Quoren and the Watch as they were.
"Well, when I met Igrith," John explained cautiously.
Lionel thought for a moment, because his first thought was that Jon had successfully completed Queren's task, which Queren was proud of, but then he remembered something he had heard about the Night's Watch, something about a vow of celibacy — Queren, for example, would never marry, no matter how much his children begged him. there was something about a vow of celibacy — Qoren, for example, would never marry, no matter how much his children asked him to.
"Listen, why is Craster called 'friend of the Night's Watch' and not 'friend of those who forgot their duty as watchmen'?" Lionel asked cheerfully, and John thought about this question seriously, because Queren had explained to him before the battle that no one would attack Craster, because anyone who did would be dug up and cut into strips, which should mean that not only those whose women lived with Craster, but also their fellow soldiers knew what was going on with Craster and sympathised greatly with their comrades.
"So Robb is wondering what to do now," Lionel returned to his story, because the decisive moment had arrived.
"I would tell him that he should marry Roslin Frey," said honest and conscientious John after some thought. "Everyone can make mistakes, but you have to keep your word."
"I told him pretty much the same thing," Lionel softened the blow a little. "But he already married Jane Westerling while he was away on campaign.
"Oh," was all John could say, although thoughts of the Freys' vindictiveness had not yet crossed his mind.
"I said 'oh' too," agreed Lionel. "What do we do now?"
"I think someone from our family should marry Roslyn now," John decided after a few minutes.
"John, you're a noble man," Lionel said with a smile and patted John on the shoulder.
"What about me?" John was taken aback and even a little frightened, which was very rare for him. "I can't. Uncle Edmar isn't married."
"Do you know what Robb has come up with?" asked Lionel, admiring John's face. "He said he's going to marry Roslin too. He even asked me to help him."
John looked at Lionel as if he were the eighth wonder of Westeros and took some time to gather his thoughts and words.
"That's not possible," John said, a little uncertainly. "The freys would be even more angry. It's completely out of the question."
"I would help Robb, I would issue a decree when I return to the capital," Lionel pressed on. "You say your uncle — I know him a little, he's a brave knight, but think about it: what looks more natural, a sixteen-year-old girl next to a grey-haired man twice her age, or a sixteen-year-old boy next to two girls his own age?
"But that's..." John was stunned by this approach. "They're... how are the three of them?"
"Well, they can take turns," Lionel didn't object to the practical approach, and he remembered his joker of an uncle with his birthday presents, but he decided not to shock John with that. "One won't let him, he'll go to the other."
John was basically a normal, healthy man, and although he dismissed unworthy thoughts, he thought in a natural way. Besides, he was angry with Ygritte, partly because she had been avoiding him for the last couple of days, just when he had slept, rested and felt refreshed.
"You know," John said a little angrily. "There's something to it."
However, during the night, John, worn out and exhausted by unworthy thoughts that found no natural outlet, changed his attitude towards the marriage scandal a little and, although he had become somewhat accustomed to Robb's unusual idea, approached Lionel with a grim and determined look.
"You and your decrees," John said with funeral solemnity. "If you decide to take anyone else besides Sansa, I'll challenge you to a duel. I mean it."
"Come on," said the reckless Lionel. "I won't bring anyone into the family."
But even such a transparent hint missed its mark.
Arya slipped into Leo's chambers on the second evening at the Black Castle, surprising him considerably with her arrival: he had been expecting Sansa that evening and had even thought at first that she would come in and find them together. It would be awkward, even if they already knew about each other: it was clear why Sansa had come, and it was clear that nothing could happen with Arya yet, but he would still look like some kind of freak. And anyway, he didn't want them to run into each other like this, either now or in a few years.
In his fear of being caught, Lionel didn't even think about the fact that the sisters were talking to each other, and that Sansa was probably teasing him on purpose, knowing full well the position she was putting him in.Arya jumped into Leo's arms from the doorway and pounced on him with kisses, so that he even doubted whether he would be able to keep this little hurricane within reasonable limits for even two years, or better still three or four. Fortunately, Mother Nature, who usually only tempted Lionel, came to his aid this time, and Arya first decided to tickle him, then fell asleep in his arms, literally this time: she made herself very comfortable, just like she had done in the square in front of the sept of Baelor, and she had already gotten used to falling asleep shortly after dark on the march beyond the Wall. Lionel sat down carefully on his bed, leaning back against the pillows, and soon dozed off himself, waking up in the dark when the candle had burned out and his right hand, which was holding Arya's head, had gone completely numb.
"Little one," whispered Lionel, not wanting to wake Arya. "You can't sleep here."
"No one saw me," Arya replied in the darkness, waking up quickly. Lionel didn't even have time to light the candle before she was sitting on his bed as if she had just arrived, her hair sticking out in all directions like a crow's nest, which was very convenient in such cases, as no one would guess that she had just been lying in bed with him. "Serio taught me how to move without being seen."
"That's how you dance," Lionel couldn't help saying. He hadn't thought that Sirio Forel's teachings would come in handy in such a situation. In the end, Lionel thought, Lord Eddard was largely to blame for the scandal in his family; it was he who had hired Arya's teacher, who taught her how to sneak into a young man's bedroom unnoticed.
Arya scolded Lionel a little for mocking the teacher, and he gladly let her, so that a couple of minutes later, Arya, now in high spirits, was sitting on his chest, pressing his hands to her knees, and laughing at her role as the victor — Leo could lift her with one hand, and even now, if he wanted to, he could twist her into a knot with a couple of movements. He didn't see any danger in such games, and neither did Arya until that moment.
"Okay," said Arya, looking into Leo's eyes almost like a woman. "Teach me something bad."
Lionel laughed, sat Arya down on the bed next to him, and taught her how to cheat at cards.
Early in the morning, when Lionel, as always, met Sansa in the empty white courtyard, he tried to scold her for letting Arya go to him at such an hour, but Sansa laughed too contagiously.
"It's your own fault," Sansa said quite rightly. "You're the one who proposed to a ten-year-old girl. If I don't let her go, she'll be offended. So you'll have to get yourself out of this mess."
"Are you still angry with me?" Lionel asked. "Or would you tease any of your sister's suitors?"
"Well, if it wasn't just a marriage proposal at such a young age," Sansa thought for a moment, and for some reason it occurred to her that, strange as it might seem, she couldn't imagine Arya with anyone else — if he had courted her and made her fall in love with him... of course she would have teased him. And she would have been very happy for her. And she was happy now.
Lionel sighed, realising that Sansa's jokes would not end anytime soon, and he began to understand a little better why in all families the eldest sister was married off first.
"Well, I had to teach her a few bad things," Lionel decided to return the joke. "I don't even know what idiot came up with the idea that she has awkward fingers. She can learn any trick in ten minutes, you'd better not play cards with her anymore."
Lionel was almost a stranger to Sept Merdyn, who always complained about Arya's clumsiness, so it was difficult for him to explain to Sansa, who was laughing until she cried, what could be so funny about memories of sewing lessons, to which her imagination would now always add a marked deck of cards and a fake camera.
***
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