sixthiterationlogs | wear it like armor [open]

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wear it like armor [open]

WHO: Jon Snow
WHERE: woods; House 25; weirwood (locked to Starks only)
WHEN: 18 August (plague prompt); early September
OPEN TO: all; weirwood prompt locked to Starks only
WARNINGS: usual sad bastard warnings.

a. bring out your dead

It had only taken a few days after visiting his lord father for Jon to fall ill and he tried to ignore it and push past it as much as he could. He did what he could to keep going, to maintain his routine, but after three days he fell to the fever and the rash and took to his bed.

Jon couldn't ever remember being ill like this. Once, during the False Spring, he'd fallen ill with a flu that all the rest of the Starks had fallen ill with one after another in succession. While Sansa and Robb had the touch of Catelyn Stark to soothe them when they thrashed in the sheets, Jon only had broth from Old Nan and the fevered dreams of a boy who wanted his mother more than anything. He wanted his mother to put cool cloths against his forehead and to brush his hair back from his brow.

His mother never came.

Now, as a man grown, he wouldn't do anything so weak as beg for his mother but he did, in passing, wish to be put out of his misery a handful of times. He hoped that none of his other siblings had fallen ill with this and that only he and Father had gotten it. Perhaps the girls and Robb had been spared and Jon would be better in a few days. Didn't it pass? All things passed in time.

So, for the first time since that illness as a boy, Jon Snow took to his bed and didn't rise for a week.

b. but i'm feeling better!

After laying in bed for a week and a half, Jon finally felt well enough to venture out into the woods. His traps were all a loss, considering they hadn't been checked while he was ill and he spent a few hours redoing the lot of them. It was tedious work, yes, but he was just glad to be out of his bed and moving around again. He hadn't been the best patient while he'd been ill and he'd been really glad to be out of the house; he had the idea that he'd spend the whole day out of doors if the women in his life would let him.

Once he'd reset all of his traps, he took one of the bows to actually hunt, feet silent against the leaves. It was times like these that he missed Ygritte. For all that he was good with a bow, she was better, and she could shoot further and cleaner than he ever would. Still, he had a duty to feed those in the village and he wouldn't manage that if he was lost in a dream of days past. Seeing a rustle out of the corner of his eye, he nocked an arrow and let it loose, pleased when it struck a grouse. It'd make a fine dinner for someone, whether it was his family or up at the Inn.

c. you have found...the shrubbery!

The weirwood was still a tiny thing but even as a sapling, Jon knew what it meant. He occasionally said prayers in front of a heart tree for his family who hadn't come here to this village - for Bran, for Rickon whom he knew was dead and gone. He said them for Catelyn Stark, that his siblings might have their mother again. He said them for Ygritte, for the brothers he'd lost at the Wall and the brothers who had betrayed them. It was a time to think and reflect, to remember the Old Gods and the First Men and how they'd given rise to the man he was today.

It seemed so far away from him now, the snows of the North and the battle that they had yet to fight. There was a war to wage against the dead and yet he was here in a place that was summer-green, a place that winter lasted only a few turns of the moon before it became spring and then autumn. It seemed like madness that seasons would last only a few moons' turn but he guessed for those not from Westeros, the opposite must seem true.

He knelt for what felt like an eternity, his lips moving without sound escaping as he gave his prayers to this fledgling tree in hopes that House Stark would take root here in this village and be strong once again.

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Wanda had gone out to gather fallen sticks and twigs for kindling. They always needed it in the kitchen during meal times and it was a thoughtless task that she could perform while letting her mind wander. She felt the days becoming shorter, the air becoming a little colder. It was a pleasant change though Wanda continued to wear her hair up accompanied by a tank top and a pair of jean shorts.

It was during her second trip out into the forest when she heard the soft rustle of footsteps and then the familiar release of a bow. She always thought about Clint when she heard the familiar sound though she knew that many hunted in the woods. She stepped towards the sound, a small collection of brown thin limbs beneath one arm.

Wanda was surprised to see Jon. She usually saw him at the inn since they both took the time to help preserve the meats but she hadn't seen him for the last week or so. She had guessed that he had vanished but hadn't wanted to go to the Stark's residence to ask.

"You look like you're doing better." She knew that some people had gotten sick like Baze and assumed that something similar happened to Jon. "Are you alright? It's been some time." They never spent a lot of time talking but Jon was one of those people that Wanda was comfortable working around, even if they mostly worked in silence.

"Aye, I am better," Jon said, giving Wanda a warm smile. It had been a while since he'd been out to check his traps and hunt and he was glad to have a chance to get back to his routine, such as it was. Routine helped him to pass the days and to mark time and the days he'd spent in bed had been a blur of illness and pain. He would be glad to have other ways of determining how much time had passed.

"You didn't get ill with it, did you? Most of my family managed to catch it. I think my lord father caught it first."

Wanda shook her head. "I rarely get sick." She grew up in cold weather without much of a home to keep her safe. She was resilient and while that didn't necessarily count for anything here, she was also stubborn. Wanda was entirely the type of person to push herself, even when she was sick.

"Is everyone healthy now?" She shifted the sticks beneath her arm before crouching down to gather more. Wanda had her routine's too and while they weren't always interesting, she'd agree that it was nice to have something to pass the time and mark the days when sleep didn't.

"Everyone's better now," Jon confirmed. "My lord father fell ill with it first, then me. I think one of my sisters got it too. I'm just glad we're all up and around now - for a family who doesn't often take ill, we certainly got our fair share of it."

Jon could go his whole life without being ill like that again, without the hot flashes and the cold sweats.

"It seemed to have hit a lot of the village, though, all at once."

Wanda nodded her head. "It had spread after we found the lab." She didn't know if the two incidents were connected but the last time that people got sick it had been the fireflies. There was always a reason and while that reason might snake it's way back to the same source, she had no doubt that it was somehow connected.

"I don't know why it didn't affect everyone." Perhaps it had to do with the vials of blood or water those who didn't visit the new village. Wanda had searched for answers but she hadn't been able to find a common thread of similarity between the victims.

"Let me know if you need help with anything." In general, Jon was the sort of person that Wanda didn't know but he was easy to trust. He had his own way of living and code to follow.

"Seems strange that more didn't fall ill with it. Sickness usually affects a wide swath of people and not at random the way this did," Jon said. He wasn't a maester, or anything, but he knew such things tended to spread quickly and especially in a place as tight knit as their village.

"I only hope it doesn't happen again. So far as help, well, could you help walk my trap lines and reset them? I have to do all of them over again."

"It could be that some people were immune to it." Wanda offered in way of an explanation. She couldn't think of any other reason why the illness had skipped certain people. She had helped tend to Beverly, and a few others who had gotten sick, but she hadn't found out anything about the illness itself. It went away, it didn't kill anyone but they had no idea where it came from.

"This is the second time I've seen people get sick." Her lips tugged into a frown. "Given that, I think it will happen again. We should be ready." Not that there was any way to prepare for a sickness.

Wanda nodded her head at his request. "How many traps do you have?" She didn't spend enough time in the forest to know where Jon kept all of his traps.

"About ten or fifteen. I was here for the last round of sickness too," Jon said, remembering how it had befallen some in the village and others had seemed to have the ability to cure it. He hadn't gotten ill that time but others had and he'd counted himself among the lucky ones. Now, it seemed, this illness had chosen at random and had not cared who fell ill and who remained healthy. It had no pattern that Jon could discern.

"I think we should do everything we can to help the healers and maesters prepare for the next round of illness. The words of my house are Winter is Coming. It means to be prepared. We have to prepare."

Wanda nodded her head. She hadn't known if he had been affected by it or not. She remembered seeing him at a feast but the chronology of everything was beginning to blend in her head. That was never a good sign and the sudden realization sat uncomfortably in the pit of Wanda's stomach. She shook her head and forced the thought away.

"Yeah." They never stopped preparing when they didn't know what was coming. "I always preferred winter." Wanda didn't think that he was speaking about anything specific since she had winter every year, depending on the state and how close you were to the north pole.

"Winter is the time for reflection, for drawing strength for the days to come. It's easy to like spring or summer - they're beautiful seasons and it's easy to eat and drink and be merry. It takes someone of true strength to love winter."

He smiled a bit, amused. "You'd have made a good Stark, Wanda. We all like winter."

His reply pulled a small smile across her lips. "I grew up in colder climates. It's different and at times harsh but no less beautiful than the spring or summer." There was something lovely about the snow and the chill that crept into the air. Like time was frozen and all the world had to stop and feel that frost.

"What is your favorite part of the winter Jon?" She looked over at him before turning to reset another trap.

"I like when the snow first falls. Where I'm from, the snow is clean and pure - there's not a lot of travel there, so there's not wagons and horses to muddy it up. It's thick and full and it makes the world seem like it's all quiet and at peace," Jon said, smiling; he loved to talk about Winterfell and his mind had been so occupied with other things that it had been a while since he had.

"My brothers and sisters used to play in it for hours. What about you?"

It had been awhile since Wanda thought of home. There were days when she'd try and forget bits and pieces of her past and other days she'd cling to them. After decades, it's hard to remember her childhood clearly but she remembered the snow.

"There was almost always snow on the ground." Over half the year would have snow. "I grew up in a small town. A small country, most have never heard of. Whenever there was enough snow," She smiled at the memory before continuing. "My brother would run outside. He'd tell me that he'd race me. I never knew where we were racing too but we always ended up in the snow."

Wanda looked down at her task before pushing herself back to her feet. "That was a long time ago." And her brother was dead.

"I used to play with my siblings in the snow too. The good thing about it is, the snow falls thick and heavy here in this place during the winter," Jon said. "Last winter, I thought we might end up buried beneath it. Were you here then?"

He couldn't recall exactly when Wanda had come to the village.

Wanda shook her head. "I arrived at the tail end of winter. There was still snow but not very much of it." She had heard of the high banks of snow and was honestly a little sad that she missed it. She didn't want to be here for a whole year but it'd be a little better if it meant that she could see the snow again.

"How long have you been here Jon?"

She asked while leaning over the next trap.

"I came with the first group. There was no one else here when we came - we had to find the Inn ourselves, choose the houses. It wasn't much different than it is now if you get a house nobody's lived in before," Jon admitted, "But the Inn is a nice place to stop and have a meal before taking on that task and we didn't have the luxury."

He did a quick calculation on his fingers. "A year and a few moons, I think, give or take. It's hard to remember when there's no one to keep the time for you."

Wanda nodded her head. "Sam has journals dating back that far." She didn't know if he had been in the first way or not but she had his records and some of it noted the difficulties it took getting settled. She was curious now though Sam was gone, making it impossible for her to ask him.

"I never thought I'd be here this long." She admitted with a frown, pushing herself back up on her feet.

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wear it like armor [open]

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