Lost in Sothoryos | A Game of Thrones Fanfic

Mutiny

(Location: Haunted Forest)
(Time: Night)

Daeron's weary steps carried him to where Jeor and the remaining members of the Night's Watch had sought refuge within the haunted forest. The sight that greeted him was one of devastation and despair. The once formidable force of three hundred had been reduced to a mere fifty, their bodies battered and bloodied, their spirits worn thin.

Jeor, bearing the weight of his leadership responsibilities, looked upon the surviving men with a mix of sorrow and determination. He acknowledged the grim reality that only a fraction of their original numbers had managed to escape the clutches of the wights and Others. The toll of the battle was evident in the weary faces and wounded bodies that surrounded him.

As Daeron approached, Jeor's gaze met his, a glimmer of recognition shining through the exhaustion. "Jon," he rasped, his voice laced with fatigue. "Only fifty of us remain. We've suffered heavy losses."

Daeron nodded solemnly, his features etched with a mixture of grief and resolve. He understood the magnitude of their sacrifices and the daunting task that lay ahead. However, Jeor's next words struck a chord of astonishment within him.

"And that dragon," Jeor continued, his voice filled with a blend of awe and disbelief. "To think that such mythical creatures have returned... It's a sign, Jon. A sign that the world itself is on the brink of upheaval. The long night may be upon us once more."

Daeron's mind swirled with the implications of Jeor's words. The return of dragons, the encroaching darkness, and the relentless onslaught of the wights and Others—The ancient prophecies and legends suddenly took on a chilling relevance.

Silently, Daeron's eyes scanned the faces of the weary Night's Watchmen. He knew that their journey was far from over.

'Shiera stay out of sight, it'll only spook them' Daeron says to her to which she sends a mental affirmation.

Through the unrelenting darkness of the haunted forest, Daeron and the remaining members of the Night's Watch pressed on, their weary bodies and battered spirits propelling them forward. They trudged through the dense snow and undergrowth, their steps heavy and laboured, fueled by sheer determination and the urgency to find refuge.

Hours turned into an entire night, and as the sun rose to cast its feeble light upon the forest, the weary men continued their arduous journey. Every step was a struggle, their muscles aching, and their minds plagued by the constant fear of pursuit.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the silhouette of Craster's Keep emerged in the distance—a glimmer of hope amidst the desolate wilderness. Daeron's heart quickened with a mix of relief and trepidation. They had reached their destination, but the question lingered: had they managed to elude the relentless pursuit of the Others?

The Lord Commander ordered a halt to the men as he went inside to deal with Craster and bargain for refuge. Daeron joined him as he would need to explain what had happened when he came here.

Jeor bangs his meaty fist on the door, the entire frame shaking, after a few minutes a girl, one of Crasters' younger wives answered the door. She sees the man whom she recognises as the Lord Commander and opens the door to let him in, her eyes brighten when she sees Daeron with him and he gives her a gentle smile making her blush.

As they walk inside they are led by the wife to where the older wives resided, they had taken charge of things around here for the time being after Craster's end.

They see Daeron and all smile "I'm glad to see that you've come back though you look a little worse for wear, come sit" she says while two of the wives corral him into Crasters old seat offering him a drink which he happily takes.