AGoT Prologue
POV: Will
Appearing: Gared, Waymar Royce, Will
Prologue takes place during a “ranging” (if we can call the patrols of three NW man “ranging”) beyond the Wall. Before the first conversation begins, Will has found a group of wildlings, all dead. (Though we do not see that, they’ve been displayed rather dramatically on the show.) Gared and Will try to convince their commander, Ser Waymar Royce, to head back to the wall and report it, as their job is now done and the said wildlings wouldn’t trouble them anymore.
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“My mother told me that dead men sing no songs,” [Will] put in.
“My wet nurse said the same thing, Will,” Royce replied, “Never believe anything you hear at a woman’s tit. There are things to be learned from the dead.”
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Gared had spent forty years in the Night’s Watch, man and boy, and he was not accustomed to being made light of. Yet it was more than that. Under the wounded pride, Will could sense something else in the older man. You could taste it; a nervous tension that came perilous close to fear.
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Something was different tonight. There was an edge to this darkness that made his hackles rise. Nine days they had been riding, north and northwest and then north again, farther and farther from the Wall, hard on the track of a band of wildling raiders. Each day had been worse than the day that had come before it. Today was the worst of all. A cold wind was blowing out of the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things. All day, Will had felt as though something were watching him, something cold and implacable that loved him not.
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a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife.
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“The camp is two miles farther on, over that ridge, hard beside a stream,” Will said. “I got close as I dared. There’s eight of them, men and women both. No children I could see. They put up a lean-to against the rock. The snow’s pretty well covered it now, but I could still make it out. No fire burning, but the firepit was still plain as day. No one moving. I watched a long time. No living man ever lay so still.”
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“They couldn’t have froze. Not if the Wall was weeping. It wasn’t cold enough.”
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“There’s some enemies a fire will keep away,” Gared said. “Bears and direwolves and... and other things...”
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He went to the tree, a vaulting grey-green sentinel, and began to climb. Soon his hands were sticky with sap, and he was lost among the needles. Fear filled his gut like a meal he could not digest. He whispered a prayer to the nameless gods of the wood, and slipped his dirk free of its sheath. He put it between his teeth to keep both hands free for climbing. The taste of cold iron in his mouth gave him comfort.
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The Others made no sound.
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Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness.
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A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss.
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It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.
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When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal; only a high, thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain.
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Will rose. Ser Waymar Royce stood over him.
His fine clothes were a tatter, his face a ruin. A shard from his sword transfixed the blind white pupil of his left eye.
The right eye was open. The pupil burned blue. It saw.
Edited by The Pack Survives, 05 November 2012 - 10:28 AM.
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evita mgfs, on 03 November 2012 - 08:54 PM, said:
They could be on a kitty calendar - you and LITTLE WING should get together and do a pussycat calendar with pictures of your cats.
I love her all the same though 
They had allowed their "favorite dog" to abuse my poor baby! 
THE PACK SURVIVES
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