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fandomweekly2025-10-19 11:48 am
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2025-10-19 11:48 am
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[#278] WATCHING THE WATCH (GAME OF THRONES / ASOIAF)
Theme Prompt: #278 - Dark forest
Title: Watching the Watch
Fandom: Game of Thrones (ASOIAF)
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Something is lurking out in the depths of the forest, watching the Night's Watch.
Jon couldn't say what it was that had woken him. He felt like he'd only closed his eyes just a moment or two ago, and despite feeling the exhausting embrace of a long day's march through deep snow and impenetrable forest, he suddenly felt as alert and rested as if he'd slept for days.
He looked around in the darkness, searching for any source of what might have woken him, but all he found was Samwell Tarly just a stones throw away, curled up against a gnarled tree trunk, ensconced in thick black furs. The tree wasn't a weirwood, one of the trees with its mournful face carved into the side of it which weeped blood red sap. Sam was too afraid to go near one of those, though Jon would have readily admitted to feeling far safer sleeping under the boughs of a weirwood than of any other tree in the forest.
Jon pulled himself to his feet, feeling his muscles protest at the aching cold within them, not least of which his sword hand which he flexed involuntarily to try and keep it supple and ready for fighting. He bridged the gap between them in a few steps and reached down towards Sam, shaking his shoulder eliciting a small shriek from the large young man. 'Sam! You're supposed to be keeping watch,' John told him.
Jon should have been closer to the main encampment of Black Brothers, never more than a stone's throw away from his Lord Commander, attending to his every need as was his duty as the Lord Commander's steward, but Ghost had been hungry, unable to find more than a few coneys which were naught but skin and bones to keep his belly full. Jon had offered himself for a watch post on the far edge of their encampment so that Ghost might hunt, and had dragged Sam along with him. A direwolf couldn't be sated by hard cheese and a few wisps of salted beef, or a wrinkled apple. A wolf needed fresh meat and there was little of that here beyond the Wall.
All of the creatures that should have occupied the trees and the thickets had been driven out by something unnatural. It wasn't Mance Rayder or his armies of Wildlings that could have done that. Something else far more powerful and dangerous had sent them scattering in fear, never to return. That alone demanded the sortie of Night's Watchmen to leave the relative safety of their halls and venture out into the unknown beyond the Wall.
Sam's startled reaction to Jon's touch settled as he realised who had woken him. 'It's so cold, Jon. I couldn't keep my eyes open.'
'Some watch you turned out to be,' he said, trying not to be too harsh. Sam was the very antithesis of brave, but watch duty was vital, and you had to be on guard no matter what. Anything could slip by and slit your throat if you fell asleep. In hindsight he probably shouldn't have shared his watch duties with Sam, allowing him to get an hour or two of sleep before morning. He just assumed Sam would have woken at the slightest noise alerting him to potential danger.
'No point asking if you heard anything,' Jon said, keeping his voice low, almost a whisper.
'What?' Sam said, twisting his head this way and that, as if danger were right upon them.
'I thought I heard something,' Jon said. Perhaps it had been nothing. Perhaps it was just Ghost somewhere nearby, then again Jon had never recalled a time when Ghost made a noise he didn't intend to make. The direwolf was as silent as anything, slipping around Castle Black just like his namesake.
John stood tall and let his hand wrap around the pommel of Longclaw, feeling the cold ivory of the wolf head pommel in his hand as he pulled the blade from its sheath. 'Stay here,' he said.
Sam's pale face caught in the faint moonlight overhead as he eyed the darkness of the forest that lay beyond. It was uncharted, and in completely the opposite direction to where the Old Bear planned on leading them, through the known paths towards Craster's Keep and beyond. 'You’re going in there? Alone?'
Jon didn't reply, keeping his sword arm low and relaxed, but with enough clearance between the trees to swing it upward and into a fighting position. Maybe something was out there and maybe it wasn't, but if it was, he would be the one to find it.' If you hear anything, Sam,' Jon warned him, you run back to camp and alert the others. Jon didn't fancy having to fight off any blue-eyed wights on his own if it came to it.
As the trees grew thicker they cut off the watery moonlight above. Jon could sense the trees closing in around him, as if they meant to swallow him whole. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as best they could, searching for any trace of sound that wasn't his own boots crunching in the snow beneath him. Then he caught the low threatening growl of Ghost, just away to his left. He ran as lightly as he could in the direction of the sound, until he was only a few yards behind the direwolf, almost invisible in the night despite his white fur, risen into hackles all down his muscled spine.
Jon strained to see beyond anything but the tall shadows of trees. Ghosts growl continued low and unabated for a minute longer before it stopped and the wolf visibly relaxed, rounding and circling Jon as if he'd known he was there the whole time. He ran a gloved hand through the warm fur, supple musculature underneath exuding calmness, indicating that the danger had passed. Someone had been out there, watching them, but now it was gone. It had decided that a direwolf was not to be meddled with. The only question left was who. Or what?
Title: Watching the Watch
Fandom: Game of Thrones (ASOIAF)
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Something is lurking out in the depths of the forest, watching the Night's Watch.
Jon couldn't say what it was that had woken him. He felt like he'd only closed his eyes just a moment or two ago, and despite feeling the exhausting embrace of a long day's march through deep snow and impenetrable forest, he suddenly felt as alert and rested as if he'd slept for days.
He looked around in the darkness, searching for any source of what might have woken him, but all he found was Samwell Tarly just a stones throw away, curled up against a gnarled tree trunk, ensconced in thick black furs. The tree wasn't a weirwood, one of the trees with its mournful face carved into the side of it which weeped blood red sap. Sam was too afraid to go near one of those, though Jon would have readily admitted to feeling far safer sleeping under the boughs of a weirwood than of any other tree in the forest.
Jon pulled himself to his feet, feeling his muscles protest at the aching cold within them, not least of which his sword hand which he flexed involuntarily to try and keep it supple and ready for fighting. He bridged the gap between them in a few steps and reached down towards Sam, shaking his shoulder eliciting a small shriek from the large young man. 'Sam! You're supposed to be keeping watch,' John told him.
Jon should have been closer to the main encampment of Black Brothers, never more than a stone's throw away from his Lord Commander, attending to his every need as was his duty as the Lord Commander's steward, but Ghost had been hungry, unable to find more than a few coneys which were naught but skin and bones to keep his belly full. Jon had offered himself for a watch post on the far edge of their encampment so that Ghost might hunt, and had dragged Sam along with him. A direwolf couldn't be sated by hard cheese and a few wisps of salted beef, or a wrinkled apple. A wolf needed fresh meat and there was little of that here beyond the Wall.
All of the creatures that should have occupied the trees and the thickets had been driven out by something unnatural. It wasn't Mance Rayder or his armies of Wildlings that could have done that. Something else far more powerful and dangerous had sent them scattering in fear, never to return. That alone demanded the sortie of Night's Watchmen to leave the relative safety of their halls and venture out into the unknown beyond the Wall.
Sam's startled reaction to Jon's touch settled as he realised who had woken him. 'It's so cold, Jon. I couldn't keep my eyes open.'
'Some watch you turned out to be,' he said, trying not to be too harsh. Sam was the very antithesis of brave, but watch duty was vital, and you had to be on guard no matter what. Anything could slip by and slit your throat if you fell asleep. In hindsight he probably shouldn't have shared his watch duties with Sam, allowing him to get an hour or two of sleep before morning. He just assumed Sam would have woken at the slightest noise alerting him to potential danger.
'No point asking if you heard anything,' Jon said, keeping his voice low, almost a whisper.
'What?' Sam said, twisting his head this way and that, as if danger were right upon them.
'I thought I heard something,' Jon said. Perhaps it had been nothing. Perhaps it was just Ghost somewhere nearby, then again Jon had never recalled a time when Ghost made a noise he didn't intend to make. The direwolf was as silent as anything, slipping around Castle Black just like his namesake.
John stood tall and let his hand wrap around the pommel of Longclaw, feeling the cold ivory of the wolf head pommel in his hand as he pulled the blade from its sheath. 'Stay here,' he said.
Sam's pale face caught in the faint moonlight overhead as he eyed the darkness of the forest that lay beyond. It was uncharted, and in completely the opposite direction to where the Old Bear planned on leading them, through the known paths towards Craster's Keep and beyond. 'You’re going in there? Alone?'
Jon didn't reply, keeping his sword arm low and relaxed, but with enough clearance between the trees to swing it upward and into a fighting position. Maybe something was out there and maybe it wasn't, but if it was, he would be the one to find it.' If you hear anything, Sam,' Jon warned him, you run back to camp and alert the others. Jon didn't fancy having to fight off any blue-eyed wights on his own if it came to it.
As the trees grew thicker they cut off the watery moonlight above. Jon could sense the trees closing in around him, as if they meant to swallow him whole. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as best they could, searching for any trace of sound that wasn't his own boots crunching in the snow beneath him. Then he caught the low threatening growl of Ghost, just away to his left. He ran as lightly as he could in the direction of the sound, until he was only a few yards behind the direwolf, almost invisible in the night despite his white fur, risen into hackles all down his muscled spine.
Jon strained to see beyond anything but the tall shadows of trees. Ghosts growl continued low and unabated for a minute longer before it stopped and the wolf visibly relaxed, rounding and circling Jon as if he'd known he was there the whole time. He ran a gloved hand through the warm fur, supple musculature underneath exuding calmness, indicating that the danger had passed. Someone had been out there, watching them, but now it was gone. It had decided that a direwolf was not to be meddled with. The only question left was who. Or what?