Trueblood || Jon Snow ✓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 ~ 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊

THE COLD WAS UNFORGIVING, the wind billowing as the gate to Eastwatch shut behind them. Saving their breath, the group stomped through the whirling snow until it had passed, leaving them padding across fresh snow in the calm northern air. Being lighter than the others, Yelena moved easier and over the snow, her pace keeping her at the front of the group as she heard the murmurs of conversation behind her; Jon and Beric, Jon and Ser Jorah, Tormund and the Hound.

Finally, they all halted as the Hound pointed to a mountain standing before them. "That's what I saw in the fire. A mountain like an arrowhead."

"Are you sure?" Thoros verified.

Clegane nodded. "We're getting close."

As they pushed forward towards the rocky spire, they were hit with another storm, once again making their journey more difficult. Through the wind-whipped snow, they came to a stop at something before them; a barely visible figure that was not one of their own.

"A bear." the Hound realised. "Big fucker."

Yelena frowned as it turned to them; something was wrong; and then it clicked. Gendry said it mere seconds after her mind had registered it. "Do bears have blue eyes?"

As it began to charge, the man who'd been guiding them began rushing back to the group, only to be snatched by another bear that appeared from the left, and then was gone again. Jon ran after them, the other following only to find a spear and a pool of quickly-freezing blood. They all drew weapons, forming a defensive circle as they attempted to cover every angle. A roar sounded suddenly, and another man was snatched up. One charged forwards, bringing his sword down on the monster's neck, but it only threw him away. Thoros and Beric drew blades of fire, charging at the bear and setting it aflame. Its murderous blue gaze set on the Hound, who remained frozen in fear at the sight of the fire. Thoros ran in to help, but was slammed to the ground, his sword the only thing between him and the bear's teeth as it attempted to rip him to shreds. Tormund ran forward, but even he was tossed aside, the bear's attention returned to the one wielding fire. It finally managed to toss his sword aside, biting into his chest and eliciting agonized yells as it whipped him around like a rag doll. With a shout, Yelena rushed forwards. She sank her black dagger into the bear's neck, and finally, it fell. Gendry and Beric dragged Thorors away from the thing. Somehow, the man wasn't dead yet.

While they dealt with his wounds, Jon and Yelena found each other, their hands swiftly connecting. "Are you hurt?" he looked her up and down.

She shook her head, still a bit shocked. "I'm alright. Are you?" he nodded, and her gaze returned to the bear. "That was just one. And the Night King has a whole army."

He nodded gravely. "That he does."

Tormund approached them, looking over the bodies, and then the bear prints. The three of them seemed to silently agree that they had to follow those prints if they wanted what they came for.

And they did, but when they started up the mountain, the sounds of armor, weapons and more feet over snow stopped them. Quietly as they could, they approached a crevasse, and inside, the dead walked in line, heading south.

"Where's the rest of them?" Jon wondered quietly.

"If we wait long enough," Tormund warned. "We'll find out."

And so they set to work. It seemed that the best way to face them was not a head on assault, but since these things liked to surprise people it was only fair to turn it around on them with a trap. They lit a small fire directly in the path of the wights, and then hid out where they had a good view, but also wouldn't be easily spotted. When they reached the area, the leader - the walker - stopped, turning towards the fire and approaching it. He looked around in suspicion, still entirely unaware of the presence of the living until they jumped out, attacking with full force. Yelena wouldn't have described it as an easy fight. She was smarter and quicker and less awkward then her opponent, yes, but he also didn't tire, nor did he seem to be inclined to die a second time. Finally, her Valyrian steel sword cut straight through its chest, killing it. Another slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. As it brought down its weapon, she rolled away, springing quickly to her feet and resuming the fight until the walker crumbled before her eyes.