Chapter 13

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Thyrsa was still shaking hours later.

"Thank you," she murmured as Tormund offered her some mead. She took a sip and coughed. "Fuck, that's disgusting."

"It'll wake you up," he said, sitting beside her. "We lost a lot of good men back there."

Her hands trembled as she held the cup, "I'd heard stories, I even saw drawings from the First Men's records. But I never... never saw something so awful. The way they just kept coming back. Swords... did nothing. Jon's was the only one that did anything. Gods." She held her head, then took another sip of the mead. "I can't burn that image out of my mind."

Tormund was quiet, watching as she massaged her own hands. "Would you like to meet my girls?" he asked, figuring this would distract her. "They're eager to meet the only female crow that's ever been at Castle Black."

She smiled weakly. "Of course."

He stood, beckoning across the deck at the girls, who had been kicking a chunk of ice with their friends. They ran up, skidding to a halt beside her. "Hello there," said Thyrsa, offering her hand. "I'm Thyrsa. You are... Maja and Munda, yes? Your father's told me a lot about you."

"Papa likes to talk a lot," said Munda honestly. "He is never quiet."

"Papa, look," said Maja, pointing at Thyrsa's cloak, which still rested on the shoulders of one of the elderly wildlings. "She has a crow's cloak. It's very strange."

"I told you," said Tormund. "A female crow."

"And a bear and a giant," said Thyrsa, kneeling down in front of them. "Your papa doesn't believe me, but my father was part giant and my mother was a she-bear. Hardhome is something House Umber and House Mormont would enjoy. My mother's family lived on an island in the Bay of Ice, south of the Frozen Shore, among many massive bears, gnarled oaks, tall pines, and very steep hills with streams that contribute to the water that flows into the Sunset Sea. They fish often there, and all the women are taught to hunt and fight. My sisters and I were, too. I come from two long lines of warriors. Your papa says my family is a lot like the wildlings. Is it true you two are already learning to wield swords?"

"Yes!" said Maja. "Look, I made a pretty belt for my sword..." she showed her a leather belt wrapped in cloth that kept the sword tight and dry, and also had hints of color, most likely from berries.

"I like it very much," said Thyrsa. "Perhaps you'll show me how to make one."

"No, I can!" complained Munda. "I'm little but I can make it if I tried!"

"I'm sure I have much to learn from each of you. I may need a new cloak. Perhaps you can teach me to make the holder and Maja can teach me to make the cloak?"

"She knew!" squealed Maja, clapping her hands at Tormund. "I love to make cloaks!"

Tormund smiled. "I told her, little one. She will need a cloak just like ours if she will one day join the wildlings. Go on, return to your play. And make plans for that cloak."

"But I want to stay with Thyrsa!" said Munda. "Maja can play." She patted her head, then pointed at Thyrsa's. "Will you braid my hair? Maja only braids her own."

Thyrsa smiled. "But of course. I admit, I'm not as good at this as my sisters, but I've gotten used to doing my own hair. Sit, go on." She sat on the floor alongside Munda, beginning to run her fingers carefully through her tangled locks, working to smoothen it out before she began.

Tormund sat with them, polishing his sword while Munda told Thyrsa all about daily life in Hardhome, and how good she was at fishing compared to her sister. She sat patiently until Thyrsa had managed two braids, then shot up like a bird to rejoin her sister's game.

Ursa Major | Tormund GiantsbaneWhere stories live. Discover now